Chapter 8 - The Shadow Arrest
At 4:15 AM, the glass and steel spire of Vance Global Tower pierced through the low-hanging storm clouds.
Inside the opulent penthouse boardroom, fourteen major shareholders sat around a polished mahogany table.
Eleanor Vance sat at the head of the table in an immaculate white designer suit, sipping black coffee.
Julian Foster stood beside her, distributing bound legal dossiers to every board member.
"With Marcus currently fleeing federal authorities for homicide, the company requires immediate stewardship," Eleanor announced smoothly.
"I propose an emergency resolution to transfer all voting shares to my executive trust."
Before the board chairman could call for a vote, the reinforced glass doors of the boardroom swung open.
Marcus walked into the room, his tuxedo torn and drenched in rain, but his posture commanding and unyielding.
Behind him stood two uniformed Special Agents from the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
Gasps echoed across the mahogany table as three board members stood up in shock.
"Marcus!" Eleanor exclaimed, feigning horror.
"Security, arrest this man before he hurts anyone else!"
Four building security guards moved toward Marcus, but the lead FBI agent raised his gold badge.
"Step back immediately," the federal agent commanded.
"Federal investigation under the Patriot Act."
Marcus walked straight toward Eleanor, his boots leaving wet footprints on the plush carpet.
"The show is over, Eleanor," Marcus said, tossing a clear plastic evidence bag onto the table.
Inside the bag was a duplicate digital drive and a signed affidavit from Dr. Evans's private head nurse.
"Dr. Evans isn't dead," Marcus said with a cold, triumphant smile.
"He survived your hitman's bullet, and he is currently singing to federal prosecutors in an undisclosed medical facility."
Eleanor's aristocratic mask cracked for the first time, exposing raw panic.
She looked over at Julian for support, but Julian took two steps backward and raised his hands in surrender.
"I made a full proffer agreement with the Justice Department an hour ago, Eleanor," Julian whispered.
Eleanor lunged forward to grab her leather briefcase from the table, but the FBI agents grabbed her arms.
Marcus opened her private safe behind the wall painting using the master code Julian had provided.
Inside lay a refrigerated metal canister containing three auto-injector pens of the antidote.
Before Marcus could turn toward the door, Dominic's frantic voice crackled through his radio earpiece.
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"Marcus, get down here right now!" Dominic screamed.
"Chloe just stopped breathing!"
