Griff leaned closer, and she caught that scent of gun oil and coffee that was becoming familiar. His eyes trackedacross the data with the focus of someone who understood the implications immediately.
"They're not working for the government," Sarah said, the words tumbling out as the full magnitude hit her. "They're buying it. Systematic bribery on a scale I've never seen."
Sarah pulled up more data, her mind racing. "But why? Why would Stillwater—or whoever's using them as a front—pour money INTO government accounts?"
"Bribery," Griff said immediately.
"But these amounts..." She calculated quickly. "We're talking millions per account. That's not only buying silence or cooperation."
"It's buying operations." Griff's expression darkened. "Tank found that biological passport scheme—selling military identities to the highest bidder. What if there are other revenue streams?"
"They collect money from selling the passports, then funnel it back as bribes to keep the pipeline open. But that doesn't explain the scale?—"
"Unless they're not just selling passports." Griff leaned closer. "What else could you do with military biological data?"
The implications made Sarah's stomach turn. "Medical research. Genetic targeting. Identity theft on a massive scale."
"And every one of these accounts represents someone who's either facilitating or turning a blind eye."
Sarah stared at the screen. "What if they’re buying cooperation with someone else’s money?”
He frowned, shaking his head.
“Obviously, Stillwater is receiving payment for services rendered.” She air-quoted the last phrase. “But what if they’re getting ‘pass through funds’ as well?”
His lips parted. Comprehension dawning. “You mean like I give you money to do a job, and extra to bribe whoever you need to.”
“Exactly. Maybe I can’t risk giving bribes myself. I pay you a little extra to do it for me.” She sighed. “Without names, we’re speculating. We need to know who these accounts belong to."
His voice went deadly quiet. "Tell me where to go. Who to threaten."
"That's the problem. The payments go to numbered accounts, then get routed through—" She stopped, a new pattern emerging. "Wait. These routing numbers. They're all coming from one FBI server farm."
Her pulse quickened. "The secondary facility in Arlington. The one I use for archived case files."
"No." Griff straightened, crossing his arms. "Absolutely not."
"I have clearance there. I know the layout."
"A federal facility full of people who might be on Stillwater's payroll."
Sarah stood, ignoring the protest from her injured ankle. "Without those names, all we have is money moving through accounts. With them, we have proof of who's been bought."
"We need to think about this?—"
"Think about what? We can't stay here forever." The frustration that had been building boiled over. "Every hour we wait, they could be destroying evidence, killing witnesses. How many people are dying while we hide?"
"None of them are my responsibility."
"What about Tank? Isn't finding his killer your responsibility?"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. "Careful."
But Sarah was too deep into the data to stop. "Look at this." She pulled up another screen. "Three payments to Pentagon accounts. Each one week before a VA patient disappeared. That means we’re only seeing the outflow side. Forthat much money to move, there has to be an inflow—someone powerful feeding their slush fund."
His fist slammed into the wall hard enough to shake the paintings. Sarah jumped.
"Show me," he said, voice controlled again but darker.
