A figure in a dark hoodie was hunched over the keyboard, typing frantically on the large wall monitor above them. A red progress bar was crawling forward. System purge: 45% complete. "Hey!" Silas shouted, his voice booming through the server racks.
The figure froze, then spun around. It wasn't a security guard. It wasn't an IT technician. It was Arthur Pim, the general counsel. The heavyset lawyer looked terrified.
Sweat was pouring down his red face, soaking the collar of his expensive shirt. He held a heavy magnetic degausser, a device used to permanently scramble hard drives. "Arthur." Silas stopped, stunned. "What are you doing?"
I have to, Silas. Arthur stammered, backing up against the mainframe. They have photos of me in Macau with the girls, the gambling debts. I didn't have a choice. Who?
Silas demanded, stepping forward. Cross? Arthur yelled, his voice cracking. He owns everything, Silas. He bought my debt three years ago.
He's been reading your emails through my account since the merger talks began. He told me if I didn't wipe the logs tonight, he'd send the photos to my wife. To the bar association. Arthur, turn it off, Silas said, his voice low and dangerous. I can't, Arthur screamed.
He raised the degausser. I have to finish it. If the company goes under, Cross promised me a job in Zurich. He lunged for the master drive bay. "No!"
Elena shouted. She didn't wait for Silas. She sprinted down the aisle of servers. Arthur swung the heavy magnetic wand at her, a desperate, clumsy blow. Elena ducked, sliding on her knees across the polished floor.
She grabbed the power cable of the terminal Arthur was using and yanked it with all her strength. Sparks showered down as the cable ripped free. The terminal went black, but the wall monitor didn't stop. System purge: 58% complete. It's not running locally, Elena realized, scrambling to her feet.
He initiated a remote command. Pulling the plug won't stop it. Arthur was sobbing now, slumped against a rack. It's too late. It's gone.
Silas grabbed Arthur by the lapels and slammed him against a server rack. What is the kill code, Arthur? There's always a kill code for a remote wipe. I don't know. Veronica set up the protocol.
Arthur wailed. "Veronica," Silas growled. He looked at Elena. Can you stop it? Elena was already at a different terminal, her fingers flying across the keyboard.
I'm trying to bypass the firewall, but Veronica locked it down with biometric encryption. "I need a fingerprint or a retinal scan." Purge: 70% complete. We don't have Veronica, Silas said. Think, Elena.
Think, she whispered to herself. She closed her eyes for a split second, diving into her memory. She visualized the contract she had seen at the restaurant. She visualized the sticky notes she had seen on Veronica's desk in the conference room when she swiped the key card. She remembered a photo on Veronica's desk, a picture of a dog, a golden retriever, and a date written on the collar tag in the photo. 051218.
It's not biometric, Elena said, her eyes snapping open. Veronica is old school. She doesn't trust the cloud. She uses a manual override. Elena typed admin override password prompt.
Enter phrase. What's the password? Silas asked, hovering over her shoulder. She's a narcissist, Elena muttered. And she loves that dog more than she loves this company, Elena typed.
LadyMacbeth0512. Access denied. Damn it, Elena cursed. Purge: 85% complete. Try cross, Silas suggested.
"No," Elena said. "She hates Cross." She's working with him, but she hates him. She loves money. Wait.
Elena remembered something else. In the restaurant, Cross had mentioned a specific shell company. Seychelles Shell Co. 4491. Why 4491? It wasn't a random number.
It was a date. April 4, 1991. "Silas, when was Sterling Vanguard incorporated?" Elena asked. April 4th, 1991.
Silas said, "My father founded it." "She doesn't want to destroy the company," Elena realized. "She wants to own it. She thinks she's saving it from you." Elena typed, "Founder4491."
The screen flashed green. Access granted. Elena's fingers blurred. Command: Abort. Abort.
Abort. The red bar on the wall froze at 98%. The room went silent, save for the hum of the cooling fans. The red light of the purge warning flickered and turned to a steady green. Data restored.
Elena slumped over the keyboard, breathing hard. Silas let out a breath he felt like he'd been holding for 10 years. "You did it," Silas whispered. He looked at her with a mixture of awe and disbelief. "You actually did it.
"We have the files," Elena said, pulling a USB drive from her pocket and jamming it into the port. I'm copying everything. The phantom vendor payments, the communications with Cross, the offshore accounts, everything Arthur was trying to delete. Silas turned back to Arthur Pim. The lawyer was sliding down the server rack, weeping into his hands.
"Get up, Arthur," Silas said coldly. "Silas, please," Arthur begged. I have a family. "That's the only reason I'm not throwing you out that window," Silas said. "You're going to go to the police.
You're going to turn yourself in. You're going to tell them everything about Cross's blackmail scheme. If you do that, I'll make sure my lawyers argue for leniency. If you run, I will hunt you down." Arthur nodded frantically.
I will. I promise. "Go!" Arthur scrambled up and ran out of the room, leaving his shoes behind in his panic. Silas turned to Elena.
The download bar on her screen hit 100%. She pulled the drive out. "We have the smoking gun," she said, holding the small silver USB stick. "But we can't stay here. Veronica will get a notification that the purge was aborted.
Security will be here in 2 minutes. My penthouse is compromised, Silas said. My driver is probably on Cross's payroll. We can't go to my hotel. Then where do we go?
Elena asked. Who do you trust? Silas looked at her. For the first time all night, the billionaire looked vulnerable. He looked at the waitress in the ill-fitting suit, holding the fate of his empire in her hand.