I gave the dial two final clicks.

The digital display on the radio, hidden from Hayes’s view by a stack of manuals, glowed steady blue.

142.350.

I pressed the red transmit button on the side of the desk microphone.

A tiny red light flickered on.

“Tell me again, Colonel,” I said, speaking clearly and directly toward the desk. “How did you get the civilian manifests to match the military inventory?”

Hayes turned back to me, a thin sneer on his lips.

“It’s simple, Captain,” he said. “The military logistics database is only as good as the clerk entering the data. I had the access keys.”

He tapped his chest pocket.

“And your father had the physical trucks to move the crates from the base to the harbor,” I added.

“Exactly,” Hayes said. “A perfect circle. No paper trail left behind.”

He raised his gun again, pointing it at my chest.

“Now, stand against the wall with your sister,” he commanded.

I didn’t move.

Suddenly, the speaker on the radio gave a sharp, loud burst of static.

A voice crackled through the small room, clear and urgent.