Chapter 6 - The Velvet Trap
While Preston Vale scrambled to liquidate assets and Vanessa drifted through the city in shock, I spent my afternoon in the research lab at Meridian Shield.
I had replaced the old, faded denim of yesterday with a clean charcoal henley and canvas work pants. On the hoist in the private bay sat my father’s Ford.
Beside me stood Leo, our veteran master technician who had worked with my father forty years ago.
“Carburetor’s clean, Marc,” Leo said, wiping grease from his hands with a rag. “Starter motor’s dried out. Elias built that engine to survive a river crossing. A country club pool ain't gonna stop it.”
I smiled, running my hand along the chipped paint of the driver’s door. “Dad always said: if it has good iron underneath, the surface doesn't matter.”
“Speaking of iron,” Leo nodded toward the glass entrance.
Maya walked in, accompanied by a tall, sharply dressed woman with silver-streaked hair and an imposing presence: Eleanor Vance, the most formidable corporate litigator in the state.
“Marcus,” Eleanor said, shaking my hand firmly. “The traps are set. Vale tried to transfer six million dollars into an offshore Caymans entity at two o'clock this afternoon.”
“Did he succeed?” I asked.
Eleanor gave a cold, shark-like grin. “The moment his margin default was filed, an injunction froze all Vale Harbor foreign exchange channels. He walked straight into a wire fraud flag. The Securities Commission is reviewing his books right now.”
“And the divorce paperwork?”
“Served on Vanessa’s hotel room thirty minutes ago,” Eleanor replied. “Along with a complete disclosure of the postnuptial agreement, timestamped hotel surveillance, and the financial audit. Her attorney—if she can find one to take the case on contingency—won't have a single leg to stand on.”
“Good,” I said.
Maya handed me a tablet. “There’s one more thing. Preston reached out to our secondary automotive systems competitor, Ironclad Dynamics.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Ironclad? Why?”
“He knows our upcoming contract with the Global Auto Consortium is worth four hundred million. He’s offering to sell them proprietary architectural specs on our Meridian 5.0 security matrix.”
I let out a short, quiet laugh. “He thinks he has our specs?”
“He had Vanessa download files from your home office cloud storage two months ago,” Maya said quietly. “He thinks he has the core encryption algorithm.”
I looked at the brass key ring resting on the workbench.
“He doesn't have the core encryption,” I murmured. “He has the honeypot code I planted in that drive the night I watched that Annapolis video.”
Eleanor’s smile widened. “Marcus... you are a terrifying man.”
May you like
“No,” I replied quietly. “I’m an engineer. When a rogue process enters the system, you let it route itself to quarantine.”
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