"Yes."
"It's not going anywhere."
"I know."
He started the engine. They left the West Loop and moved northwest through morning traffic. Neither of them discussed Keller, Sloan, or Adrien for the first twenty minutes. Maya answered two calls from counsel and one from Dana Ellis, confirming that WDI's normal operations were continuing under the restrictions already in place.
When the last call ended, Raymond said, "You're still running the company from the passenger seat."
"I'm still the CEO."
"You're also allowed to sit in a car."
Maya looked at him. "That sounds like retirement talking."
"It sounds like someone who learned too late that every problem does not improve because you stare at it longer."
She put the phone facedown.
Traffic slowed near an interchange. After several minutes, Raymond exited and pulled into a small coffee shop beside a gas station.
"We're early," Maya said.
"I know."
"I'm not hungry."
"I didn't ask."
Inside, Raymond ordered black coffee; Maya asked for hot tea; Raymond added two breakfast sandwiches.
She looked at him. "I said I wasn't hungry."
"And I heard you."
"That usually means don't buy me food."
"At my age, it means buy two and see what happens."
They returned to the Explorer. Maya left the sandwich unopened for several miles before finally taking it from the bag. Raymond did not comment. She took a few bites, then looked out at the commercial buildings along the road.
"If the verification works, WDI could still lose contracts."
"Yes."
"If it doesn't work, the company may not survive at all."
"Yes."
"You're very helpful this morning."
"You already know the answer you want from me."
"I want you to tell me everything will be fine."
Raymond shook his head. "No."
Maya looked at him. "At least you're consistent."
"A career can be rebuilt."
"At thirty-four, maybe." She turned toward him. "Would you say that at sixty-two?"
Raymond kept his attention on the road. "At sixty-two, I'd say the part worth rebuilding is the part you can live with."
Maya was quiet for a moment. "You ever regret leaving the Bureau?"
"Sometimes."
"That isn't what I asked."
Raymond glanced at her. "You've been using that line a lot lately."
"You taught it to me."
He considered the question again. "I don't regret leaving. I miss parts of the work. Those aren't the same thing."
Maya nodded. She finished half the sandwich and wrapped the rest.
The data center sat in an industrial area near Elk Grove Village, surrounded by low commercial buildings, fenced lots, and service roads. Nothing outside identified WDI or the type of information stored inside. Raymond parked in the visitor section.
Before getting out, Maya checked the seal on the document bag: still intact.
Inside the building, a security employee examined their identification and compared their names with the approved visitor list. "Miss Williams, Mr. Williams, you're both cleared for reception. Mr. Williams, your access is restricted to the verification area as a civilian witness."
Raymond nodded. "Understood."
The employee looked at Maya's bag. "The verification device needs to be logged before entry."
Maya placed it on the counter. The security employee recorded the case number, seal number, time of entry, and the identity of the custodian. Maya signed the record; the compliance representative signed after her.
Marcus met them beyond reception. "System is ready. Read-only access is confirmed."
"Any changes since yesterday?" Maya asked.
"One." She stopped. "What?"
"The cold image is still physically present, but the manifest attached to it no longer verifies."
Maya looked at him carefully. "Was the image altered?"
"We don't know yet. That's what the hash comparison will tell us."
Raymond asked, "The manifest is the part that says when the image was created and what it contains?"
Marcus nodded. "Yes."
"So the data may still be original, but the label that proves its history can't be trusted."
"Exactly."
They entered the verification room. It contained two secured terminals, a wall-mounted camera, a logging station, and a separate workstation operated by the facility's compliance representative.
Maya checked the camera indicator. "Recording?"
The representative nodded. "Continuous from the moment you entered."
"Good."
Marcus handed Maya the access form. She reviewed every line before signing. Raymond sat several feet behind her. Maya looked over her shoulder. "You chose the chair facing the door."
He looked toward the entrance. "It was available."
"There are four chairs."
"This one has a better back."
She almost smiled.
The compliance representative began reading the procedure aloud for the record: Maya's identity was confirmed; her access authority was confirmed; the purpose of the session was stated as independent integrity verification of an existing cold storage image.
The metal case remained sealed until all parties confirmed the log. Marcus opened the cold storage interface. A directory appeared: the image was there; its creation record, however, could no longer be independently trusted because the manifest signature had been changed.
Maya studied the screen: Adrien had reached far enough into the system to damage the proof around the image, but he had not removed the image itself.
Marcus said, "If the original blocks still match your root hashes, we can establish that the underlying data existed before the disputed credential activity."
"And if they don't?"
"Then we document that, too."