“Already in the crates,” Hayes said. “Halfway to the container ship. By tomorrow morning, I’ll be retired, and your father will have enough money to pay off his debts and keep this house.”

“At the cost of your daughter’s life?” my mother asked, looking at my father.

My father didn’t look back. He pulled a thick folder of documents from the safe and handed them to Hayes.

“We had to secure the future,” my father said, his voice flat.

I reached my hand behind my back, my fingers searching for the edge of the desk.

The cold metal of the radio housing brushed against my knuckles.

I needed to find the toggle switch without looking.

“The port authority will flag the shipping containers,” I said, trying to keep Hayes talking. “They have new scanning protocols this month.”

“Not for military transport under diplomatic seal,” Hayes said. “I took care of that last week.”

My fingers found the rubberized toggle switch on the back of the radio.

I slid my hand down, feeling the click mechanism.

If I flipped it, the unit would make a faint static hiss before connecting.