Chapter 6 - THE DRIVE FROM OAK PARK
Z
I sprinted through the executive suite, dialing Daniel's number as I ran. "Daniel, Caldwell is framing Rachel. The FBI is on their way to her apartment, if they aren't there already. Where is she?"
"She's not at the apartment, Evan," Daniel replied, his fingers flying across a keyboard in the background. "After the break-in last night, she refused to go back. She’s in the basement of the Meridian Plaza building. The old archives."
I changed direction, heading for the service elevators. "Why the archives?"
"Because she’s brilliant," Daniel said, a hint of awe in his voice. "When the mercenaries took the drive from the briefcase... they took a decoy. She swapped it when she pulled it out of the lining. She knew they were coming."
A fierce surge of hope ignited in my chest. Rachel Bennett was truly her father's daughter, always designing for failure, always anticipating the worst-case scenario. I took the service elevator down to sub-level three. The air was damp, smelling of old paper and ozone. I navigated the maze of metal shelving until I saw the faint glow of a laptop screen in the far corner.
Rachel was hunched over the keyboard, cables snaking from the laptop into an archaic server rack. "You’re late," she didn't look up as I approached.
"Caldwell played his hand," I said, catching my breath. "He announced to the board that you’re the spy. He’s sent the FBI to arrest you."
"Let them come," she muttered, her fingers dancing across the keys. "I'm decrypting my dad's drive now. It’s an old encryption, but I’m almost in. If we broadcast this data to the entire company intranet, Caldwell won’t be able to contain it."
The progress bar on the screen crawled agonizingly from 98% to 99%. The tension in the dusty archive room was absolute. This small piece of plastic held the power to topple a billionaire’s empire and avenge a murdered man.
Suddenly, the heavy metal door at the end of the corridor slammed open. The echo reverberated through the concrete basement. Footsteps. Fast, heavy, and purposeful.
"They found us," I whispered, stepping in front of Rachel to shield her.
"Just ten more seconds!" she pleaded, typing frantically.
Eric Caldwell stepped out from behind the shelving, a sleek, silenced pistol in his hand. He looked panicked, sweating profusely, the arrogant veneer of his uncle completely absent. "Step away from the terminal, Mr. Cole," he stammered, aiming the gun with a trembling hand.
"Eric, you're in over your head," I said calmly, holding my hands up. "Your uncle is using you as a scapegoat. When the FBI finds out about the offshore accounts, who do you think is going to take the fall? The billionaire VP, or the nephew with the money in his name?"
Eric hesitated, his eyes darting between me and the laptop. The progress bar hit 100%. A chime echoed from the speakers.
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"Decryption complete," Rachel announced, slamming her hand down on the enter key. The screen flooded with cascading lines of code, the original backdoor architecture, accompanied by a scanned memo signed by Martin Caldwell himself, authorizing the illegal bypass fifteen years ago.
"No!" Eric lunged forward, raising the gun. In a split second of pure adrenaline, I tackled him. The gun went off with a muffled thwip, the bullet shattering a server rack above us in a shower of sparks.
