Chapter 4

I burst into Noah Green's studio with seven minutes and forty-two seconds left on the countdown. The space was a windowless Faraday cage of corrugated steel and soundproofing foam, hidden in the back of an abandoned electronics repair shop. It smelled of ozone, hot circuitry, and stale coffee. Noah didn't ask questions. He took one look at my pale face, the frantic rise and fall of my chest, and the glaring red countdown ticking away on my phone screen. He immediately guided me to a heavy, scarred metal desk in the center of the room.

He moved with practiced efficiency.…