“I have the complete financial history of the Thorne family’s criminal enterprise,” I said.

I opened my leather bag and took out three thick, bound folders.

I also placed an encrypted flash drive on the table.

“This contains thirty gigabytes of emails, bank ledgers, and wire transfer logs,” I said.

One of the FBI agents, a woman named Miller, pulled over a laptop and inserted the drive.

“Start from the beginning,” Vance said, sitting down.

For two hours, I walked them through the labyrinth of the Thorne family accounts.

I showed them how Julian Thorne used import-export licenses to move undocumented cash across borders.

I showed them Eleanor’s signature on the bribery authorizations disguised as consulting fees.

“They aren’t just hiding wealth,” Agent Miller remarked, looking up from her screen. “They are funding an illegal surveillance network.”

“They used it to track my daughter,” I said, my voice tight. “And to keep her prisoner.”

“This is enough for a grand jury indictment,” Vance said, rubbing his chin. “We can secure warrants for arrest and seizure of all electronic devices.”

“How quickly can you move?” I asked.