Chapter 6: Two Hours
The call to the federal prosecutor's office lasted nine minutes.
Harlan made it from the back of the car, Ray beside him, Reyes in the front seat driving fast and quiet through airport traffic.
The prosecutor — a sharp, careful woman named Dana Fitch who had been building the Voss case for three years — listened without interrupting until Harlan finished.
Then she said: "If what you're describing is accurate, I need that drive authenticated by someone outside your chain of command within the hour."
"I can have it to Judge Mercer's clerk in forty minutes."
"Harlan." A pause.
"If Callahan finds out you're moving on this before the transfer order is executed—"
"He'll try to stop it.
I know."
"I mean he will try to stop you specifically.
Not the case.
You."
"I understand."
Another pause.
Longer.
"Forty minutes.
Don't be late."
She ended the call.
Ray was looking out the window.
"She's right, you know.
Callahan won't go quietly."
"He never does."
"I mean he has options you don't.
He can flag your credentials.
Lock you out of the building.
Issue a temporary suspension on procedural grounds while the transfer processes." Ray turned.
"He's done it before.
To the Harmon team in 2019.
By the time they cleared it, the window was gone."
"I remember the Harmon case."
"Then you know he only needs forty-five minutes to make your next forty minutes useless."
Harlan looked at the drive in his hand.
"Which is why I'm not walking it into the building myself."
He turned to Reyes.
"Call Agent Tran.
Tell her I need a favor.
Personal, not official.
She'll understand."
Reyes picked up his phone.
Ray studied his brother's profile.
"You've been planning for this."
"I've been planning for something like this for three years.
Since the first time Callahan's name came up sideways in a file it shouldn't have been in." Harlan pocketed the drive.
"I just didn't know it was going to be today."
"Or that Marcus was going to be in the middle of it."
"No." A beat.
"Not that."
Ray was quiet for a moment.
"He's a good kid."
"He is."
"Smart.
Stubborn.
Doesn't trust easily but when he does, he goes all the way." Ray glanced at his brother.
"Reminds me of someone."
Harlan said nothing.
But something in his jaw shifted.
"I'm sorry," Ray said.
"For using him.
I didn't see another way, but that doesn't make it right."
"Tell him that.
Not me."
"I will."
The car stopped at a red light.
Reyes lowered his phone.
"Tran is in position.
She'll meet the courier at the clerk's office."
"Good." Harlan looked at the time.
"Now the harder part."
"Callahan," Ray said.
"Callahan." Harlan turned to face forward.
"He's going to know something went wrong the moment the transfer order hits resistance.
And the first person he's going to call is the intermediary who's been running communications between him and Voss's team."
"I know who the intermediary is."
Harlan looked at him.
"A man named Peter Solis.
Private attorney.
Offices in Georgetown." Ray reached into his coat and produced a folded sheet of paper.
"That's his schedule for today.
He has a lunch meeting at twelve-thirty that he will not cancel because the person he's meeting is a federal judge he's been cultivating for two years." Ray set the paper on the seat between them.
"If Callahan calls him during that lunch, Solis won't answer.
He never takes calls in front of the judge.
It's his one consistent habit."
Harlan picked up the paper.
"You've been watching Solis."
"For four months."
"And you're telling me this now."
"I'm telling you this now because forty minutes ago I was still trying to do this without getting you involved." Ray looked out the window again.
"That plan ended when Marcus got thrown onto a car hood."
The light changed.
Reyes pulled forward.
Harlan looked at the schedule.
Twelve-thirty lunch.
It was eleven forty-seven.
Forty-three minutes.
"If Callahan can't reach Solis," Harlan said slowly, "and the transfer order hits resistance at the clerk's office—"
"He'll come out from behind the desk," Ray finished.
"He'll have to move personally.
And the moment he does—"
"He's visible." Harlan folded the paper.
"And we're ready."
Ray looked at his brother.
For the first time since the coffee shop, something in his face loosened slightly.
Not relief.
Something older than that.
"You always did think faster under pressure," he said.
"You always did make more pressure than necessary," Harlan replied.
Ray almost smiled.
Reyes's phone buzzed.
He glanced at it and his shoulders went rigid.
"Sir.
Callahan just issued a second order.
He's flagging your federal credentials.
Effective in twenty minutes."
The almost-smile disappeared from Ray's face.
Harlan looked straight ahead.
May you like
"Then we have twenty minutes," he said.
"Drive faster."
