"They're not just framing us," Sarah said. "They're convicting us in public opinion first."
Through the comms, she heard Ronan: "All units, maintain positions. This changes nothing."
"It changes everything," Izzy countered. "We're blown."
"No," Griff said firmly. "We're being hunted. There's a difference. Sarah, can you track where they're taking Axel?"
She pulled up federal detention protocols, cross-referenced with marshal transport routes. "Federal holding facility. Not local jail—that means this is being run from Washington."
"How high does this go?" Deke asked through comms.
Sarah looked at the evidence spread across her screens—Pemberton's transactions, Buckley's authorizations, federal marshals moving on their command. "All the way up."
Tears rose up, but she pushed them back. This wasn't only about Tank anymore, or even stopping Buckley. They were fighting the entire system.
"Lord," she said quietly, not caring who heard through the comms. "We can't do this alone. We need Your help. We need a miracle."
"Sarah," Griff's voice was gentle. "We're going to get him out."
"How? We can't even get evidence to anyone who matters. David and Buckley made sure of that. He knows exactly how I work, who I'd contact, every avenue I'd try." The betrayal hit fresh. "I trained him. Showed him my entire network when we were together. I handed him the weapon to destroy me."
"Hey," Griff turned her chair, made her look at him. "He betrayed you. That's on him, not you. And we're going to stop him."
"The news is calling you terrorists. Axel's in federal custody. We have no allies, no resources, no?—"
"We have each other," Griff said firmly. "We have the truth. And according to you, we have God."
Sarah blinked. It was the closest thing to a faith statement she'd heard from him.
"Ghost," Ronan's voice interrupted. "News truck pulling up to the Marriott. They're doing live interviews with Pemberton."
Sarah turned to her screens, pulled up the live feed. There was David, looking concerned and professional in his expensive suit, talking about "the threat to democracy" and his "duty to protect the summit."
"He's enjoying this," she said, feeling sick.
On screen, a reporter asked, "Mr. Pemberton, how did you discover this terror cell?"
David's answer made Sarah's blood run cold: "Through careful financial analysis. My former colleague, Sarah Winters, inadvertently led us to them. She's been linked to several suspicious transactions. We're currently seeking her for questioning."
The monitor shook. Sarah realized her hands were trembling with rage. Her fingers found Tank's tags again, gripping them hard enough to leave marks on her palm.
"He just—" She took a breath, forced calm. "He just named me as a suspect on live television."
Through the comms, Izzy's voice, deadly: "Yo, Bear Spray. Want me to shoot him? I have a clear line."
"Negative," Ronan said, but Sarah heard the temptation in his pause.
A new alert on her screen. Federal arrest warrant issued for Sarah Winters—conspiracy to commit terrorism, financial fraud, treason.
"Sarah," Doc said urgently. "You need to?—"
"I know." Sarah saved everything to multiple encrypted drives. "I'm now officially a fugitive."
Through the comms, Deke's voice, tense: "Second marshal team. Moving toward Maya's position."
"Maya, hang tight," Zara's voice cut through, calm and focused. "Finn and I have you on satellite. Kenji's pulling building schematics."
"Got it," Kenji confirmed. "Maya, see that vintage bookstore to your three? Finicky Cat Books?"
