The silver drive sits in the port of Alex’s main server tower like a bullet in a chamber. We are back in the fortress, huddled around the blue glow of the monitors in the subterranean tech wing. The air smells of ozone, stale coffee, and high-voltage anxiety.
Alex’s hands hover over the mechanical keyboard. His face is pale in the screen glow.
"It's encrypted," he says, his voice tight. "Old school. 128-bit. I can crack it, but it might trigger a fail-safe."
"Do it," Stavros commands. He’s standing behind me, his hand resting heavily on the back of my chair. His grip is tight, grounding me when I feel like I’m floating in a sea of ghosts. "We need to see what he kept."
Alex types. Clack-clack-clack-clack. Then he hits enter.
A progress bar fills the screen. Red... yellow... green.
"G
