“We should wait until Marc leaves before attempting to log on remotely,” Sheldon said. “If he logs on locally while we’re remoting in, security systems will generate an alert.”

“Are you sure?” Patrick asked.

I answered before Sheldon could. “Even for human sysops, that’s an obvious thing to watch for. It’ll be automated and they’ll get an alert.”

The device that Nat had planted could pick up sound over most of the third floor, but the video field of view was limited by its location. Most of the information coming over the bug consisted of off-screen bumps, walking sounds, and occasional English and Lorannic commentary. It was a measure of the stress level that the Loranna were breaking character like that.

Then there was a yell, followed by stampeding sounds. “What just happened?” Patrick said.

“They are excited by something,” Sheldon replied. “Ah. Security-camera feeds. Someone went back through the video files and found a scene where Karen was being kidnapped by Karen and Marc. Marc keeps yelling, ‘That isn’t me! I wasn’t there!’ I believe the jig is out.”

“Up,” Nat corrected.

“Regardless of the jig’s ultimate vector, they are now on full alert. We might want to consider logging in now and getting what we can.”

“Let’s do it,” Nat said, and grabbed her laptop. Reaching into a pocket, she pulled out a small, round object—her new security fob. Some rapid typing, a pause to transfer a number from the fob’s display, and the logo of the Harris Institute was up on her laptop screen.

Nat scanned the menu for a moment. “This is a pretty standard document-management system. Let’s see what we can find.”

“Allow me, Natalie. I can scan and analyze the contents more quickly than you.”

The laptop started flashing through screens faster than we humans could follow. Natalie leaned back, a surprised expression on her face. “You hacked my laptop?”

“Not at all. Standard man-in-the-middle attack. I am, after all, your Wi-Fi hotspot. I’ve merely taken over the client connection.”

“But that’s encrypt—” Nat sighed. “Never mind.”

“Finally!” Sheldon crowed. “Signs of intelligence.”

I pointed to a small window at the bottom left of the screen that said “Downloading,” and “Thirty-four files.” The number fluctuated up and down.

“Looks like Sheldon is queueing interesting files for download,” Nat said.

There was a yell in Lorannic from the video window still displaying activity on the third floor.

“What’re they saying?” Patrick asked.

“They are currently discussing why Marc is both logged in remotely and standing right there. Of more concern to me is—”