Chapter 16 - THE RED LINE
I set the metallic drive onto the glass table with a soft clink.
The technician immediately picked it up, inserting it into the side port of his high-speed terminal. His fingers flew across the mechanical keyboard, code scrolling across his glowing screen in rapid green lines.
"Validating encryption keys," the technician reported flatly. "Accessing root directory..."
Sterling walked over to the table, leaning down to watch the screen over the technician's shoulder. His face was lit by the blue glare of the monitor, an expression of supreme, greedy satisfaction spreading across his features.
"Fourteen months of legal headaches," Sterling murmured to himself. "Resolved in thirty seconds."
Suddenly, the technician’s fingers froze over the keyboard.
The green lines of text on his monitor turned bright, glaring red. The laptop’s cooling fan suddenly spun up into a high-pitched whine, and a warning dialogue box popped up in the center of the screen:
CRITICAL SYSTEM BREACH — EXTERNAL NETWORK ACCESS GRANTED
"What is that?" Sterling demanded, his smile instantly vanishing. "What did you just do?"
"Sir... the drive isn't loading the patent data!" the technician said, his voice rising in panic as he tried frantically to pull the drive from the port. "It's an automated override script! It's wiping our local memory and mirroring our IP address to an external server!"
"Unplug it!" Sterling yelled, grabbing the technician’s shoulder.
"It's too late!" the technician gasped. "The script bypassed the firewall! It's transmitting our internal server credentials!"
Sterling turned on me so fast his chair nearly tipped over. His polite, refined mask shattered into pure, monstrous fury.
"You bitch!" Sterling roared, reaching into his suit jacket.
"Clara, GET DOWN!" Miller’s voice screamed in my ear.
Before Sterling could pull his weapon, the heavy mahogany door of Suite 1402 exploded inward with a deafening crash.
Flash-bang canisters bounced across the carpet, detonating with blinding white light and thunderous booms that shook the entire room. The glass windows vibrated violently as smoke filled the air.
I threw myself onto the floor, covering my head with my arms, my ears ringing from the concussive blasts.
Through the thick white smoke, four tactical officers dressed in dark gear burst into the room, their weapon-mounted flashlights cutting through the haze.
"FEDERAL AGENTS! DON'T MOVE! GET ON THE GROUND!"
Sterling stumbled backward against the sofa, blinded and coughing, dropping his pistol onto the carpet. The security contractor near the door was already on his stomach, hands zip-tied behind his back by two officers.
Miller stepped through the ruined doorway, holding a heavy tactical sidearm, his eyes scanning the room until they found me lying on the carpet.
He rushed over, dropping to one knee, pulling me up by my shoulders. "Clara! Are you hit?"
"I'm okay," I gasped, coughing through the smoke, wiping tears from my eyes. "I'm okay!"
Across the room, two Federal Marshals slammed Richard Sterling face-first against the glass window, pulling his arms violently behind his back and snapping heavy steel handcuffs around his wrists.
"Richard Sterling," the lead Marshal announced in a loud, clear voice that echoed over the ringing in my ears. "You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit extortion, obstruction of justice, and corporate racketeering pursuant to a federal warrant issued by the Eastern District of Michigan."
Sterling pressed his face against the cold glass, staring at me through the smoke with eyes filled with pure, murderous hatred.
"You're dead, Mercer!" Sterling spat, blood trickling from his lip onto the glass. "You think this ends with me?! Apex will tear your life apart! You'll spend every dime you have on lawyers!"
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I stood up straight, supported by Miller’s arm. I stepped toward Sterling until I was standing right beside him, looking into his defeated, bloodshot eyes.
"The real drive was delivered to the FBI Director in Detroit five minutes ago, Mr. Sterling," I said, my voice steady, cold, and clear. "By tomorrow morning, Apex Bio-Tech won't exist. And you won't need a lawyer... you'll need a priest."
