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Before dawn, Stella and Hagen dressed, packed, and drove to the FBI Pittsburgh field office to join Journey Russo and Lucas Sutherland on another interoffice videoconference at seven.

At noon, the Administrator would call for the sacrifices to begin as the world ended. Five hours from now.

They’d barely slept as they’d dug through messages in the Dispatch group, specialized research papers, and journal articles. And they had nothing.

Urgent cases had challenged them before.

They’d sought psychopaths who’d wanted to slaughter multitudes, stopped killers who’d threatened members of the team directly, and chased down murderers who’d killed people they’d known and loved.

Now it was like the weight of all those cases together had landed on Stella’s shoulders.

This killer was already responsible for the deaths of so many. He’d caused Alessandra’s death. And if they didn’t stop him now, he could cause the deaths of hundreds more.

Never had a case been bigger or heavier .

And the clock kept ticking. Stella had felt useless as she entered the Pittsburgh field office.

Hagen squeezed her hand under the table. He felt the pressure too.

They joined the others as everyone popped up on their screen.

Tysen was first, in her office in Washington. Guy Lacross was also on the call, from Chicago. Journey and Lucas, of course, along with their SSA. And everyone from the office in Nashville—Slade, Mac, Stacy, Caleb, Anja, and, surprisingly, Ander.

Tysen rested her elbows on the table. “So the Administrator made direct contact with Tyra Scharf. Fill us in.”

Slade nodded at Stacy. “Agent Lark?”

She cleared her throat. “Yeah, Tyra talked a little. Said that she’d been in contact with the Administrator. We found a message that said he’d accessed the collection recently, prophesizing the Day of Changing. Mac?”

Mac pulled her chair forward. “The Laurel Mount library gave me access to their records already. I have requests out to others, but with the holiday coming up, people are moving slow. Anyway, I checked visitor entries the week before that message was sent. There weren’t many.

Seems those archives aren’t that popular.

In fact, only two people visited the archives on the exact date that the Administrator sent that message. ”

On the screen, Guy tilted his head. “Makes sense. Those things are really only used by scholars. Who were they?”

“Professor Andrew Whelan. And Dr. Alfie Napp of the?—”

“Of the Pittsburgh Museum of Ancient Art,” Stella finished for Mac. “Of course. That would make sense.”

Excitement pulsed through her. Maybe they were making this harder than it needed to be. The world of ancient history fanatics was small, comparatively. Trained translators were an even smaller percentage of the population.

They had the names of two people with access to the appropriate material. The odds of one of them being the Administrator were high.

And with a single message, one of them could stop hundreds of murders from taking place later that day.

Guy ran his hand through his hair. When he stopped, he still held a handful of locks. “Those are two of the biggest guys in the field. I just can’t believe either one of them would be involved in something like this.”

“You’d be amazed who gets involved.” Slade pressed his fingers to the table. “I’m surprised every time.”

Anja chimed in. “Before we dive in, let’s consider that the Administrator could’ve been lying on Dispatch about deciphering tablets. Are we really going to take his word for it?”

On the video feed, Tysen narrowed her eyes. “We can’t afford not to act. Let’s get moving. Knox and Russo, you two head to Laurel Mount. Talk to Whelan. Yates, you and Sullivan pay Napp a visit at the Pittsburgh Museum of Ancient Art. I’ll make the arrangements. We don’t have time to waste.”

“And then what?” Stella didn’t move. “We can make an arrest easily enough. These are two old guys. But how do we stop the mass murder that’s supposed to start in less than five hours?”

Caleb spoke. “Make him tell them to call it off. Get him in the app and make him write a message to his followers saying he’s made a mistake. He’s in charge. Use him.”

“And if he won’t cooperate?” Hagen drummed his fingers on the table. “We don’t have time to lean on him.”

“You won’t need to.” Mac sounded confident. “If you can get his phone, you can get his password. I’ve been trying to crack into the account from my side, but the encryption is heavy.” She gave a crooked smile. “It’ll be miles easier if you can get his password.”

“Once you’re in, I can help.” The offer came from Guy. “I can pretend to be him and write some technical, lexicographic mumbo jumbo for you to explain why the translation’s all wrong. And come up with some excuse for being wrong.”

“Mac, work on breaking through.” Tysen bounced her fist on the table. “Agents Knox, Yates, Russo, and Sullivan, we’re relying on you to figure out which one is the Administrator. Go.”

The screen turned blank.

Stella checked her watch.

Time was running out.