THE SILENT WITNESS IN THE WHITE NURSERY WHO RECORDED EVERY SINGLE SECRET

The tactical team didn't wait for orders. Two federal agents surged forward, returning fire with suppressed pistols as the intruders opened up from the patio threshold. Muzzle flashes strobed through the shattered glass like lightning in a storm, lighting up the pristine white kitchen with stark, violent contrasts.

"Get down!" Miller roared, tackling Julian and Clara toward the heavy oak dining table just as a volley of rounds punched through the drywall above their heads, sending a cloud of white plaster dust raining down over them.

Clara curled entirely around the baby, shielding the infant with her own body while Julian used his weight to pin them both against the floorboards.

"The drive!" Julian shouted over the deafening rattle of gunfire. "Clara, give it to Miller!"

Clara looked down at her hand. The titanium thumb drive was slick with sweat, but her grip was ironclad. She tossed it across the floor toward Miller, who was kneeling behind the marble island, returning fire with deadly precision.

The federal agent caught the drive out of the air on the rebound, sliding it instantly into a ruggedized tactical terminal strapped to his forearm. His fingers flew across the tiny mechanical keyboard, entering a rapid sequence of override codes.

"Beacon active! Uploading encryption keys to Quantico!" Miller yelled over the chaos, taking a round to his shoulder armor that spun him half around, though he managed to keep firing. "We've got thirty seconds before the data transfer completes!"

From the patio, a familiar, smooth voice cut cleanly through the sound of gunfire.

"Give it up, Miller!" Marcus called out, stepping calmly into the room through the broken glass, his tailored suit jacket fluttering in the helicopter rotor wash from outside. He wasn't holding a rifle; he stood with his hands casually at his sides, watching the carnage with the detached amusement of a chess master. "You're playing a game you don't own the board for."

Julian pushed himself up from the floor, ignoring the burning pain in his injured shoulder. He locked eyes with Marcus across the blood-spattered white kitchen.

"You're out of time, Marcus," Julian shouted, taking a deliberate step out from behind the dining table. "The federal server has your entire network."

Marcus smiled, a cold, dangerous expression that didn't reach his eyes. He slowly raised a small, red detonator box in his right hand. "The server only gets what I allow it to receive, Julian. And right now, this house is wired with enough C4 to send every single one of us into the history books."