I stopped.
Davies placed his thumb under the latch.
That was when I said the one sentence that finally made Sloan move.
“The case is under federal preservation notice.”
Her eyes snapped toward mine.
“What?”
Davies stopped too.
I continued.
“There is an active federal civil action connected to the attempted takeover.”
“Federal court?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have the order?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Outer document sleeve.”
Davies looked annoyed.
“You could’ve said that five minutes ago.”
“I told you the material was under litigation hold.”
“That’s lawyer nonsense.”
Sloan ignored him.
“Can I access the sleeve without opening the locked compartment?”
“Yes.”
“With your consent?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
She moved toward the case.
Davies blocked her.
“I’ve got it.”
Sloan’s voice hardened.
“No. You don’t.”
That was the first time she sounded like a supervisor even though she was not.
Davies stared.
“We’re the same rank.”
“I know.”
“Then back off.”
She looked at his hand near the latch.
“Not while you’re about to destroy potentially court-preserved material without probable cause.”
His face tightened.
“You buying this?”
“I’m checking.”
That word mattered.
Checking.
Something nobody had done yet.
Sloan opened the exterior sleeve.
Inside was a document packet.
The first page contained the letterhead of a federal law firm.
The second bore a court caption.
UNITED STATES DISTRICT COURTNORTHERN DISTRICT OF ILLINOIS
Below it was a preservation order related to Vanguard Logistics Systems v. NorthStar Capital Partners.
Attached was a declaration describing the encrypted storage device and restricted-access protocol.
Sloan read enough to understand the problem.
Then she looked at Davies.
“Step away from the case.”
He stared.
“You’re kidding.”
“No.”
He pointed at me.
“We don’t even know if this guy is who he says he is.”
I said:
“You have my driver’s license.”
“Anybody can have a company title.”
Sloan looked toward Emily.
“Can you verify the corporate travel record?”
Emily nodded quickly.
She pulled up the profile.
“Marcus Hayes. Vanguard Logistics Systems corporate account. Ticket purchased through executive travel. Identity verified.”
Davies scoffed.
“That proves he bought a ticket.”
Sloan looked at him.
“What exactly are you trying to prove?”
He had no answer.
That was when a man standing fifteen feet away stepped forward.
He had been watching quietly for several minutes.
Mid-fifties.
Gray hair.
Black overcoat.
He held up a federal credential wallet.
“Maybe I can help with that.”
Every officer turned.
Davies stared.
The man introduced himself.
“Special Agent Thomas Brennan. FBI.”
I did not know him.
At least not personally.
But I recognized the name.
Brennan was assigned to the cyber intrusion investigation involving Vanguard.
He was not there for me.
By coincidence, he was traveling to Denver from a nearby gate.
Or what looked like coincidence.
He looked at me.
“Mr. Hayes?”
“Yes.”
“I believe we spoke by video conference two weeks ago.”
“Briefly.”
Davies looked between us.
“This guy’s part of your case?”
Brennan’s expression changed.
“That is an interesting way to phrase it.”
Davies corrected himself.
“Mr. Hayes.”
“Yes.”
Brennan looked at the case.
“Is that the isolated source repository referenced in the preservation declaration?”
“Yes.”
“Has it been opened?”
“No.”
“Tampered with?”
I looked at Davies.
“Almost.”
Brennan followed my eyes.
Then stared at the latch.
He stepped closer.
“Who attempted to access it?”
Davies straightened.
“I’m conducting an airport-security investigation.”
Brennan looked around.
“TSA flagged it?”
“No.”
“Explosive trace?”
“No.”
“Airline security report?”
“No.”
“Threat intelligence?”
Davies’s voice dropped.
“No.”
Brennan looked at Sloan.
CHAPTER 3
“What initiated contact?”
She hesitated.
Then answered honestly.
“Officer Davies says Mr. Hayes appeared out of place in the priority boarding lane.”
Brennan’s face became very still.
He looked at the blue carpet.
Then at me.
Then Davies.
“Out of place.”
Davies folded his arms.
“You weren’t here.”
“No.”
Brennan nodded.
“That’s why I’m asking questions instead of pretending I know.”
The words landed hard.
Davies said:
“This is local jurisdiction.”
“Correct.”
Brennan smiled slightly.
“And the preservation order is federal jurisdiction.”
That ended the argument.
At least legally.
Not emotionally.
Davies turned toward me.
“You could have avoided all of this by opening the bag.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
He frowned.
“No?”
“I could have avoided conflict by surrendering a right.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
His jaw tightened.