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He doesn't answer.

"Stefanos."

His gaze drops. I already know I'm not going to like what comes next.

"Not much."

I turn the laptop toward me and pull up the latest balances. My stomach drops when I see he's right.

Several accounts have fallen sharply during the last seventy-two hours. Others are almost empty. One that held fourteen million yesterday now contains less than two. Another has lost eight million. Another eleven.

The reservoir isn't draining because we're closing in.

It's draining because someone is spending it.

"Where did it go?"

"I don't know every destination."

"Give me the ones you know."

Drakos exhales. "Contractors. Weapons procurement. Logistics companies. Properties."

"What properties?"

"Safe houses. Warehouses. Temporary facilities. Some in Greece, others abroad."

Adrianos leans forward. "What else?"

"Political consultants. Private security. Transportation."

"Political consultants?" I ask.

"That's what they're called on paper. Some payments went to aides, intermediaries, and lobbying organizations. I don't know who ultimately received them."

"Bribes," Adrianos says.

Drakos doesn't answer. He doesn't need to.

I pull up another reservoir account and watch the balance update. More money has disappeared since yesterday.

Hundreds of millions accumulated gradually, quietly, almost invisibly. Money stolen in fractions from shipping, real estate, investments, currency conversions, and legitimate Crown businesses. Money we believed was being collected for some future purpose.

We called it a war chest. But war chests wait. This one isn't waiting anymore.

"How much has already been dispersed?" I ask.

Drakos looks at the table.

"Estimate."

His hesitation tells me the answer before he speaks.

"Most of it."

The room goes silent.

I look at Adrianos. His face has become unreadable, but I know what he's thinking because I'm thinking the same thing.