Chapter 4 - The Interrogation of Damian
The federal detention facility in Lower Manhattan was dark, cold, and smelled faintly of industrial cleanser and old paper.
Adrien and I walked down the narrow concrete corridor, accompanied by Lead Agent Miller. The sound of our shoes clicking against the linoleum was the only noise in the quiet hallway.
"He hasn't spoken a word since Saturday night," Agent Miller told us, holding a silver keycard against the electronic lock of Observation Room 4. "His high-priced lawyers tried to file three emergency bail motions, but Judge Miller shut them all down after your legal team produced the encrypted wiretap recordings from the orchid corridor."
"Has he seen his father's old legal team?" Adrien asked.
"They refused to take the case," Miller replied with a grim half-smile. "The moment Sterling Innovations released the forensic audit showing forty million dollars missing from the military navigation project, every major defense firm in the state pulled their representation. He’s using a court-appointed public defender now."
The heavy steel door clicked open.
Inside, sitting at a metal table bolted to the floor, was Damian Sterling.
He looked unrecognizable from the smooth, arrogantly handsome young CEO who had ordered the hotel manager to throw me out two nights ago. His designer tuxedo had been replaced by a gray, oversized institutional jumpsuit. His hair was greasy and unwashed, his stubble thick, and his hands were cuffed to a steel ring in the center of the table.
When the door opened and he saw Adrien and me walk in, a spark of pathetic, animalistic fury lit up his sunken eyes.
"You," Damian spat, his voice hoarse from lack of water and endless screaming at the guards. "You came to gloat?"
Adrien didn't answer. He pulled out a metal folding chair, held it for me as I sat down, and then pulled out a second chair for himself. He folded his hands on the metal table, staring at his cousin with an intensity that made Damian involuntarily shift back in his seat.
"I didn't come to gloat, Damian," Adrien said softly. "I came to ask you one question."
"I’m not answering anything!" Damian snarled, rattling his cuffs against the steel table. "My lawyer said—"
"Your lawyer is currently in the lobby trying to figure out how to pay his own parking fee, Damian," I interrupted smoothly, laying a sleek black folder on the table between us. "You don't have a defense team anymore. You have a criminal indictment with seventeen federal counts attached to it."
Damian looked at me, his eyes filled with a venomous hatred. "You... you fake little servant. You sat there taking champagne orders while you were setting me up!"
"You set yourself up, Damian," I told him calmly. "When you decided that thirty million dollars of charity escrow money was your personal bank account."
Adrien leaned forward, resting his forearms on the cold metal. "Where is the second drive, Damian?"
Damian froze. The angry posture faltered for half a second before he tried to cover it with a sneer. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"The encryption key for the satellite guidance system was split into three parts," Adrien said, his tone entirely devoid of emotion. "Part one is in my head. Part two is on Ana's drive. Part three was stored in the Sterling safe in Zurich—the safe only you and I had access to. When the federal marshals opened that safe yesterday morning, the drive was gone."
Damian bit his lower lip, sweat breaking out across his forehead despite the cold room. "I don't have it."
"We know you don't have it," I said, leaning in close. "Because Viktor Volkov’s men wouldn't have let you leave the orchid corridor alive on Saturday night unless you had already handed it over."
Damian’s jaw worked silently. He looked away, staring at the gray concrete wall.
"You gave Viktor Volkov national security technology to pay off your personal gambling debts in Macau, didn't you?" Adrien’s voice didn't rise, but the lethal promise behind it filled the small room like poison gas. "You traded our family name, our company's integrity, and the safety of this country because you couldn't stop playing baccarat in secret casinos."
"He was going to kill me!" Damian suddenly sobbed, his composure completely collapsing into a pitiful, blubbering mess. He beat his handcuffed fists against the table, tears leaking down his dirty cheeks. "You don't understand, Adrien! Volkov doesn't care about money! He told me if I didn't give him the Zurich drive by midnight on Saturday, he would send a team to my apartment and... and leave me in pieces in the river!"
"So you gave him the drive," Adrien said, his eyes narrowing into slits of pure obsidian.
"He... he took it at 9:00 PM!" Damian wept. "Before the gala even started! The thirty million from the Starlight escrow was just the secondary payment to activate the receiver dish in Cyprus!"
I looked at Adrien. The situation was far worse than we had anticipated. Volkov already had the physical drive. He didn't have the decryption keys yet—those were safe with Adrien and me—but with a quantum supercomputer and enough time, Volkov’s engineers could eventually breach the secondary protocols within six months.
Adrien stood up slowly. He adjusted his suit cuffs, looking down at his weeping cousin with a cold, absolute disgust.
"You were always weak, Damian," Adrien said quietly. "Father saw it. I saw it. But I thought you had enough pride left not to become a traitor."
"Adrien... please!" Damian begged, trying to reach across the table with his bound hands. "Help me! Volkov has people inside this prison! I'm not safe here!"
Adrien turned his back on him, walking toward the heavy steel door.
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"You are safer in a federal cell than you will ever be on the outside, Damian," Adrien said without looking back. "Because if Viktor Volkov comes for you here, the guards will shoot him. If he comes for you outside... I won't stop him."
The steel door opened, and we stepped back out into the bright, clinical light of the hallway, leaving Damian’s hysterical wails ringing against the reinforced glass.
