Chapter 7 - THE SETUP
Z
We crashed to the concrete floor in a tangle of limbs. Eric was younger and desperate, but I had the weight of fury behind me. I drove my elbow into his ribs, wrestling the weapon from his grip. It clattered away into the darkness. I pinned him to the ground, my forearm pressing hard against his throat.
"It’s over, Eric," I gritted out, my heart pounding in my ears. "The data is already live."
Rachel stood over us, her chest heaving, staring at the screen. "It’s done. The broadcast went to every employee inbox, the board of directors, and the SEC tip line. Caldwell can't delete it. It’s everywhere."
Eric stopped struggling, a whimper escaping his lips as the reality of his ruined life crashed down on him. I hauled him to his feet, shoving him against the nearest pillar. Just then, my phone rang. It was Caldwell. The ultimate hubris. I answered it, putting it on speaker.
"Evan," Caldwell’s voice was remarkably calm, though tight with contained rage. "You think you've won? You think an old memo and some archaic code will hold up in court? I have the best lawyers in the country. I will tie this up in litigation for a decade while your company burns."
"You don't understand, Martin," I said, a grim satisfaction washing over me. "I didn't just send the memo. Rachel’s father was a brilliant engineer, but he was also a paranoid man. He didn't just document the backdoor. He wrote a script that tracked every piece of data you siphoned through it. And he hid it inside the system's core architecture."
Silence on the other end of the line.
"When Rachel executed the drive," I continued, twisting the knife, "it didn't just release the code. It triggered an audit of every transaction your nephew made over the last eighteen months, correlating it directly with the backdoor access. It's a closed loop, Martin. We have the IP theft, we have the buyer, and we have the exact route the money took into Eric's accounts."
"You son of a bitch," Caldwell spat, the veneer finally shattering.
"The FBI isn't going to Rachel's apartment," I said, looking up as the sound of sirens began to wail in the distance, growing louder by the second. "Daniel re-routed them to the boardroom. They're coming for you."
I hung up the phone. Rachel slumped against the server rack, sliding down until she was sitting on the floor, her hands covering her face. A ragged sob tore from her throat. The weight of fifteen years of grief, anger, and secrecy was finally lifting.
I walked over and sat beside her on the cold concrete. The flashing red and blue lights of the police cruisers began to reflect through the small basement windows, painting the room in chaotic, beautiful colors.
"He’s going to prison," I told her quietly. "For a very long time."
May you like
She looked up at me, her eyes red but fierce with triumph. "For my dad."
"For your dad," I agreed. We sat there in silence, the billionaire and the security guard, united by a ghost, waiting for the authorities to clean up the wreckage of a corporate war. The drama had crested, and the storm was finally beginning to clear.
