Chapter 7 - Face to Face with the Devil
The elevator dinged, and Chief Vance stepped into the basement hallway. Up close, the stench of his expensive cologne couldn't mask the rot underneath. He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on my face.
“Dr. Rostova,” Vance said, his voice a low, gravelly purr. “I don’t recall authorizing a secondary medical evaluation.”
“My client is very thorough, Chief Vance,” I said, forcing my chin up. “When spending millions, one likes to ensure the product isn’t defective.”
Vance smirked. “Of course. We pride ourselves on quality. Right this way.”
He swiped his keycard, and the heavy metal door to the server room hissed open. It was cold inside, humming with the noise of dozens of massive hard drives. This was it. The belly of the beast.
“You have two minutes,” Vance said, leaning against the doorframe, watching me intently.
I walked over to the main terminal. I opened my clutch, pretending to look for a pen, and slipped the USB injector into my palm. I plugged it into a hidden port at the back of the terminal while pretending to type on the keyboard.
The screen flickered. A progress bar appeared. Uploading to DOJ Secure Servers... 10%
“You know,” Vance said softly, taking a step toward me. “You look remarkably familiar, Doctor. You have a very specific bone structure. Reminds me of a woman I knew a long time ago. A woman whose brakes suddenly failed on the highway.”
My hands began to shake. He knew.
Upload... 40%
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“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
Vance drew his gun, the silencer clicking into place. “I think you do, Clara. Did you really think putting on a blonde wig would fool the man who spent a decade covering up your family's existence?”
