Chapter 29 · Restore Clock

"Nineteen minutes." Marcus says it like a countdown he wishes he could stop. "That's what's left on the federal restore window. After that this isn't a commission thing anymore. It's a federal chain-of-custody violation. Somebody goes to prison for this, not just loses a license."

Neither of us lets go of the box.

Levi's knuckles are white on the lid, blood from his side dripping down onto the seam where my hand is locked on the other corner. His shirt's soaked through dark on the left, and every time he shifts his weight to keep his grip, his jaw goes tight like he's biting down on the pain instead of admitting it exists.

"You're bleeding on federal evidence," I say. "That's a good look for your restore window."

"Then let go of the box, Ortega."

"So you can walk it out that door before anyone logs it? Not a chance."

"There is no door," Marcus says. "That's the point. The magnets are still dead. We're not walking anywhere."

He's right. I heard it a second ago —