Chapter 16 · Half His Code on Vault Steel

"Second key's dead." Knox's mouth was at my ear before I even got my hand off the breaker.

"You bought us maybe six minutes before the wash crew figures out why their guy's tool went cold."

"Then we use them." I didn't move. My palm was still under his on the switch, both of us sweating into the same warm metal.

"Chain of custody doesn't die because the lights flicker, Hale."

"Chain of custody." He said it like it tasted bad.

"It's a burnt matchstick in a tray. That's all it is."

"That matchstick puts your name on an arson file."

"So does the code you just spent." His hand closed around my wrist, not gentle.

"Half of it, Voss. You took half my door code off me back there. You know what happens if you use the other half wrong?"

"I know what happens if I don't use it at all." I pulled free. He let me — that was its own answer — and I crossed to the wash-corridor glass. Steam fogged most of it. Through the clear strip at the bottom: boots. Reinforced toe. A jacket with a shield stitched where a logo should be. ATF.