Chapter 6 - The Counter-Strike
With Caleb’s data in our possession, we didn't wait for Friday’s deadline. By Thursday morning, we launched a coordinated counter-strike that caught both Vanessa and the Lucien Group-backed Aethelgard completely off guard.
Instead of filing a simple civil suit, Arthur Pendelton delivered our findings directly to the United States Attorney’s Office for the Northern District of Illinois, alongside the FBI’s Corporate Fraud Division.
I stood in the glass atrium of our headquarters, watching the television screen mounted on the wall. A local news reporter was standing outside the glass tower of Aethelgard Industries downtown.
“Breaking news today in the corporate sector,” the reporter announced, her voice urgent against the background noise of sirens. “Federal agents have executed a series of search warrants at the offices of Aethelgard Industries and several residential properties tied to its executives. Sources indicate the raid is part of a massive investigation into corporate espionage, extortion, and the illegal manipulation of medical pharmaceutical stocks.”
The screen cut to a shot of Marcus Vance being led out of his building in handcuffs, a leather jacket draped over his wrists to hide the brass restraints.
Moments later, my phone vibrated. It was an unknown number. I answered it on the second ring.
“Martin,” Vanessa’s voice was frantic, the sound of wind and traffic loud in the background. She sounded like she was running. “You think you’ve won? You think you can destroy me? I still have the Project Resolute files. I’m uploading them to an public server right now. The second I press enter, your wife’s little miracle cure disappears.”
“Go ahead, Vanessa,” I said, my voice completely level.
There was a sudden pause on the line. “What?”
“Press enter,” I told her. “What you don't realize is that Sarah intercepted your remote server access six hours ago. Every time you tried to log into that cloud network today, you were interacting with a localized sandbox environment. The files you think you’re uploading are nothing but a collection of corrupted system logs and corrupted text files. You don't have the data anymore, Vanessa. We deleted your remote access tokens last night.”
A sharp gasp escaped her lips. “No… no, that’s impossible, Caleb wouldn't know how to—”
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“Caleb didn't do it,” a new voice said on the line. Caleb had joined the call from the adjacent office. “I just gave them the maps, Vanessa. You were the one who walked right into the vault. The FBI is outside your mother’s house in Naperville right now. I suggest you stop running before they have to find you in a ditch.”
I hung up the phone before she could answer, the cold weight that had settled in my chest since the wedding day finally beginning to lift.
