Chapter 7 - The Lion's Den
At 10:00 AM the following morning, the top floor of the Vanguard Tower on Wall Street was quiet, luxurious, and bathed in morning sunlight.
Victor Sterling, a handsome, iron-grey-haired man of fifty-five, sat behind his executive glass desk enjoying an espresso. On his desk were three computer monitors showing stock market tickers and news feeds.
The double mahogany doors of his office swung open without warning.
Sterling frowned, setting down his espresso cup. "What is the meaning of this? I told my assistant—"
He froze.
Ellis Thompson walked into the office. He was dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his hair combed back, his posture commanding and unyielding. Behind him walked two heavy-set men in dark suits—Marcus's private security team.
"Ellis Thompson," Sterling said, recovering his composure instantly, leaning back in his leather chair with a smooth, patronizing smile. "I heard a rumor that you were causing a disturbance down at the docks last night. Mourning can do strange things to a man's mind, Ellis. You really ought to take some time off."
Ellis walked slowly across the plush carpet, stopping at the edge of Sterling's desk.
"She's alive, Victor," Ellis said clearly.
Sterling didn't flinch. "I'm sure she is—in your heart. But as the state police established eighteen months ago, your wife passed away in a tragic motor vehicle accident."
Ellis reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a portable tablet computer, and laid it face-up on Sterling's desk.
On the screen was a live video feed from a secure room at the United States Attorney's office.
Sitting in front of three senior federal prosecutors and a court reporter was Willow Thompson. Beside her sat Marcus Vance, feeding physical documents into a scanner.
Sterling's smooth smile vanished. A muscle in his jaw twitched violently.
"That's a very convincing deepfake," Sterling sneered, though his face had gone noticeably pale.
"It's not a deepfake, Victor," Ellis said smoothly, leaning down until his face was inches from Sterling's. "That is my wife. And five minutes ago, she handed over the unredacted core sample analysis for the St. Jude Bridge project, along with a full sworn statement detailing how your security team abducted her and threatened my daughter's life."
Sterling stared at the tablet screen. On the live feed, two FBI agents were already signing an arrest warrant.
"You think you've won?" Sterling hissed, his voice dropping into a low, venomous growl. "I own half the judges in this state, Thompson. By the time this hits a courtroom, those files will be declared inadmissible, and your wife will be committed to a state psychiatric facility for faking her own death."
"You don't own the federal government, Victor," Ellis replied, pulling his phone from his pocket and checking the time. "And you certainly don't own the news media."
Ellis pressed a button on his phone.
Across the room, the wall-mounted television turned on automatically.
A red BREAKING NEWS banner flashed across the screen.
“BREAKING: VANGUARD INFRASTRUCTURE CEO VICTOR STERLING INDICTED ON FEDERAL RACKETEERING AND ATTEMPTED MURDER CHARGES; STATE ATTORNEY GENERAL SEIZES ALL CORPORATE ASSETS.”
The glass doors of Sterling's office were kicked open.
Eight armed FBI agents, flanked by United States Marshals, poured into the room with weapons drawn.
"Victor Sterling!" the lead federal agent shouted, unholstering his handcuffs. "Put your hands on your head! You are under arrest for federal racketeering, conspiracy to commit murder, and obstruction of justice!"
Sterling sat frozen in his chair, staring at the television, then at Ellis, his world collapsing around him in a matter of seconds.
Ellis picked up his tablet, pulled his coat closed, and looked down at the man who had stolen eighteen months of his family's life.
May you like
"My wife sends her regards," Ellis whispered coldly.
He turned on his heel and walked out of the office, leaving Sterling to be thrown against his own glass desk and fitted with steel handcuffs.
