The control was already established.
Now it was about proof.
Jocelyn broke first.
She pushed herself up slightly from her knees, not fully standing, just enough to look like she still had some authority left.
“This is a mistake,” she said quickly, her voice shaking but trying to stay sharp. “She’s not who she says she is.”
No one responded.
She turned toward the team lead, desperation starting to bleed through.
“You need to listen to me. My sister, she’s unstable. She’s been under stress. She makes things up when she feels threatened.”
I watched her.
Same tone she used earlier.
Just louder now.
“She hacked something or she manipulated—”
Jocelyn kept going, words stacking too fast.
“This is a misunderstanding. You’re acting on false information.”
The team lead didn’t even look at her.
That hit harder than any response.
She shifted again, voice cracking.
“You can’t just come in here and—”
“You’re done talking,” I said calmly.
That stopped her.
Not because I raised my voice.
Because I didn’t.
I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a small device.
Plain matte casing, about the size of a deck of cards. No branding. No lights. Just hardware.
Trent saw it first.
His entire body tensed.
“That—what is that?” he asked, already knowing he didn’t want the answer.
I held it loosely in my hand.
“Five minutes,” I said.
Jocelyn stared at me, confused.
But I didn’t look at her.
“Those five minutes you gave me downstairs,” I continued, steady and clear, “weren’t for thinking.”
I tapped the edge of the device once with my thumb.
“They were for work.”
Silence.
Real silence this time.
I lifted my wrist slightly, letting the watch catch the light.
“The transmitter in this watch doesn’t just track location,” I said. “It establishes a secure breach channel.”
Trent shook his head immediately.
“No. That’s not possible. There’s no signal down there.”
I looked at him.
“You’re thinking commercial infrastructure.”
That shut him up.
I continued, voice flat.
“Encrypted IP routing. Direct relay through military satellites. No dependency on your house systems.”
Jocelyn’s breathing changed.
Faster now. Uneven.
“While I was sitting in your basement,” I said, “this device was decrypting your server access, mapping your network, and pulling everything tied to your company.”
Trent took a step back on his knees like distance would help.
“No,” he said again, but quieter. “No, you didn’t.”
I met his eyes.
“I did.”
I walked over to the glass table in the center of the room, the same one they were standing near earlier, the same one they thought they controlled.
I placed the device down gently.
Then I reached for a folder one of the agents handed me.
Thick. Heavy.
I didn’t rush.
I just set it down on the table and slid it forward.
The sound of paper against glass cut through the room.
“That,” I said, “is your last seventy-two hours.”
Trent didn’t move.
Jocelyn didn’t breathe.
I opened the folder.
Pages of financial logs. Transaction records. Contract approvals. Every piece clean, organized, undeniable.
I tapped one page.
“Offshore transfer chain.”
Another.
“Shell company routing.”
Another.
“Unauthorized contract approvals under your authorization, Major.”
