“And I assume you are there as well, Mr. Draven.”

Lucian stepped closer to the screen, his face twisted in rage.

“If you hurt her, Sinclair, there is nowhere on this earth you can hide,” Lucian growled.

Sinclair let out a soft, dry laugh.

“We are far past the point of threats, Lucian,” Sinclair said.

“Your sister was a liability, and your physician was too curious.”

“But we can still resolve this.”

He pressed the gun harder against Alina’s head. She let out a muffled scream.

“You have the drive,” Sinclair said.

“And you have the decryption keys.”

“I want them.”

“Bring them to the south docks, warehouse number four.”

“You have twenty minutes.”

“If I see a single soldier, or if you call the police, I will end her life.”

“And then I will come for you, Mara.”

The screen went black.

The line was dead.

The silence in the room was thick, broken only by the sound of heavy rain pelting the glass.

Lucian slammed his fist onto the mahogany desk.

The wood groaned under the impact, and a silver pen rolled off the edge, clattering onto the hardwood floor.