Two hours later, William burst into the suite. He didn’t care about the secret anymore. He looked defeated.
“It’s over,” he told Victoria, ignoring his father’s frozen form. “Cross found the Syndicate debt. Five billion. 48 hours. We’re going to prison.”
Victoria looked at William, then turned to Alistair.
“Alistair,” she said, her voice steady. “Did you hear that?”
Alistair blinked twice. *Yes.*
“You were the banker for the Syndicate,” Victoria said, leaning over him. “You moved trillions through Zurich. Did you keep a reserve? Do you have the money to pay them off?”
The room went silent. William watched, confused, as his paralyzed father blinked twice. *Yes*.
“Where?” William gasped. “We checked the accounts. They’re empty.”
Alistair’s right hand–the one they had tortured into waking up–twitched on the duvet. He lifted his index finger.
Victoria immediately offered her palm, holding it flat like a slate.
“The password,” she realized. “It’s a black account. It needs a key.”
Alistair’s finger descended. He was exhausted, his nerves screaming, but he began to trace. The code wasn’t a word. It was a complex alphanumeric string, the key to a kingdom hidden in the dark.
*Seven.*
*D.*
*Nine.*
*Q.*
“Write it down, William,” Victoria commanded, her eyes never leaving Alistair’s face. “Every character. We only get one chance at this.”