1:47.
Thirteen minutes.
Emily whispered:
"What do we do?"
The judge closed the computer.
"We leave."
"Where?"
"Somewhere they aren't expecting."
The marshal looked at him.
"And Exhibit B?"
The judge picked up the container.
"It comes with us."
He walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
Because on the other side of the glass, standing at the end of the corridor, was Deputy Attorney General Richard Cole.
He was alone.
He looked directly at the judge.
And smiled.
The judge stared back.
Cole lifted his hand.
Not a wave.
A warning.
Then he turned and walked away.
The judge looked at Emily.
"Do you see that?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
The judge's voice was almost a whisper.
"Now we know."
"What?"
"Who was waiting for me at two."
He tightened his grip on the evidence container.
"And why they wanted me out of my courtroom."
Outside, the television cameras were still waiting for the judge to make a statement about the slap.
Inside, the courthouse was becoming a battlefield of secrets.
And the man who had been humiliated on live television that morning now understood something terrifying.
The officer who slapped him had never been the real enemy.
She had simply been the first person placed between him and the truth.
The real enemy had been inside the courthouse all along.
And they were no longer trying to hide.
They were trying to make sure he never left the building with Exhibit B.
The judge watched Richard Cole disappear around the corner.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Emily was the first to break the silence.
"Judge, we can't stay here."
"I know."
The marshal moved toward the hallway.
"I'll get the elevator."
"No."
The judge's answer was immediate.
The marshal turned.
"Why?"
"Because if they know where we are, they'll expect us to use the elevator."
"Then the stairs."
The judge nodded.
"That's what we'll use."
Emily looked at the evidence container in his hands.
"Are you taking that with you?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Somewhere secure."
The marshal shook his head.
"There may not be anywhere secure inside this building."
The judge looked at him.
"Then we'll go outside."
The marshal hesitated.
"With the media everywhere?"
"Exactly."
He handed the container to the marshal.
"Take this."
The marshal accepted it.
"Your Honor?"
"If anyone asks, you're carrying ordinary court files."
"What are you carrying?"
"Nothing."
Emily looked confused.
The judge opened his robe slightly.
He removed a small encrypted drive from an inner pocket.
"This is the important part."
The marshal stared at it.
"You copied Exhibit B?"
"No."
"Then what is it?"
"A duplicate I made before the original was sealed."
The marshal looked at him.
"You had a copy?"
"Not intentionally."
Emily frowned.
"What do you mean?"
The judge looked at her.
"Three months ago, when the evidence was transferred, my clerk received a technical copy for review."
Emily nodded slowly.
"Yes."
"I kept it."
"Why?"
"Because something about the original chain of custody bothered me."
The marshal looked at the drive.
"Does it contain the same information?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"The metadata."
He held the drive up.
"Who created the files. When they were created. When they were modified. Who transferred them."
Emily understood.
"And that's what they don't want."
"Exactly."
A sound came from the hallway.
Footsteps.
Everyone froze.
The judge motioned for silence.
The footsteps came closer.
Then stopped.
A man's voice came through the closed door.
"Your Honor?"
The marshal looked at the judge.
The judge recognized the voice.
It belonged to David Mercer.
The systems administrator.
The man whose credentials had been used to manipulate the courthouse.
The judge whispered:
"Don't answer."
The footsteps remained outside.
Then Mercer spoke again.
"Judge, I know you're in there."
Silence.
"I can help you."
The judge looked at the marshal.
The marshal shook his head.
Mercer continued.
"You need to leave the building."
The judge stared at the door.
"Why?"
Mercer answered from the hallway.
"Because they know you have the drive."
The judge's eyes narrowed.
He had not told Mercer about the drive.
Mercer had somehow learned it.
The judge stepped closer to the door.
"Who are you talking about?"
There was a pause.
"Richard Cole."
Emily looked at the judge.
Mercer continued.
"He isn't alone."
The judge opened the door.
Mercer stood at the end of the corridor.
He looked terrified.
Not angry.
Not defensive.
Terrified.
The judge stepped into the hallway.
"Come inside."
Mercer glanced behind him.
Then hurried forward.
The marshal opened the door.
Mercer entered.
The door closed.
"Where is Cole?" the judge asked.
"Lower level."
"Doing what?"
"Looking for the evidence."
"How does he know about the drive?"
Mercer looked at the judge.
"Because I told him."
The marshal immediately moved toward him.
Mercer raised both hands.
"Wait."
The judge looked at him.
"You told him?"
"I had to."
"Why?"
"Because if I didn't, they would have killed my brother."
The judge's expression hardened.
"Daniel?"
Mercer nodded.
The judge stared at him.
"Your brother is working with them."
"He was."
"Was?"