“Those are the smuggling crates,” I whispered.

“The ones from the shipping manifests I audited last week before I fled.”

“He’s storing the contraband right here,” Adrian said, his eyes narrowing.

“This isn’t just a kidnapping, Emily. This is his entire midwest distribution hub.”

“If we get those crates, we can link Marcus and the Blackwood Syndicate to the federal smuggling charges,” I said.

“We will,” Adrian said. “But Clara comes first.”

He zoomed in on the video feed, pointing to the far corner of the screen.

A shadow moved across the threshold of the concrete room.

It was Marcus.

He was holding a tablet of his own, his face pale and furious in its glow.

He kicked a piece of loose pipe on the floor, the loud metallic clang echoing faintly through my phone speaker.

“He’s losing patience,” I whispered. “He knows the financial data I sent him is locked.”

“The decryption key I gave him was designed to freeze his system,” Adrian said.

“It didn’t just lock him out. It initiated a silent download of his local directory back to our server.”