He was sitting at a metal table, handcuffed to a steel ring bolted to the center of the wood.

His expensive tweed sport coat was stained with dark charcoal smudges, and the elbows were damp.

His face was pale, his eyes darting toward the corners of the ceiling as if looking for an escape.

“Let’s see what’s on that drive first,” Voss whispered, gesturing toward an empty office off the main hallway. “I want to know exactly what cards we hold before we walk in there.”

The office belonged to the desk sergeant, who was out on patrol.

Voss set his leather briefcase on the desk, opened his laptop, and booted it up.

I pulled the silver-plated flash drive from my pocket and handed it to him.

His fingers were slightly wrinkled from the cold as he slotted the drive into the USB port.

The screen flickered, and a single directory appeared.

It was labeled with my father’s military service number and the words: *PROPERTY TRUST – ORIGINAL.*

Voss clicked the folder open.

There were three scanned PDF files and a short video file.