Chapter 7 - Unwelcome Surprises
The executive boardroom was bathed in the cool, artificial glow of a massive floor-to-ceiling projection screen displaying flight manifests and financial spreadsheets.
Three corporate vice presidents sat frozen around the mahogany table, mid-sentence, their coffee cups hovering halfway to their mouths. But it wasn't the executives who commanded Simone's attention. Standing at the head of the table, leaning casually against the back of an ergonomic leather chair, was Federal Division Director Thomas Vance.
Vance was a man in his late fifties with impeccably silvered hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and the polished, unflappable demeanor of a bureaucrat who had survived four presidential administrations. He didn't look panicked. In fact, as he looked up and saw Simone standing in the doorway, a faint, condescending smile touched the corners of his mouth.
"Inspector Sterling," Vance said smoothly, checking his gold wristwatch as if she were merely late for a routine Monday morning briefing. "We expected you back at the regional field office hours ago. What brings you to corporate headquarters?"
Simone walked into the room, her amber eyes locking onto his with a predatory intensity. She didn't take a seat. She stopped halfway down the long table, letting Agent Miller position himself near the double doors to block any exits.
"Cut the act, Thomas," Simone said, her voice cutting through the heavy air of the boardroom like a razor. "You didn't expect me back at the field office at all. You expected me to be detained by airport security or bogged down in endless bureaucratic paperwork after Brenda Miller tried to drag me off that plane."
One of the corporate VPs—a heavy-set man with a flushed face named Henderson—swiveled in his chair, slamming his palm onto the table. "Listen here, young lady! You are trespassing in a private corporate facility! Who the hell do you think you are bursting in here—"
"Quiet, Henderson," Vance interrupted, never breaking eye contact with Simone. He raised a single hand, his smile widening just a fraction. "Let her speak. I'm fascinated to hear what kind of conspiracy theories our top inspector has managed to cook up on a morning flight from Chicago."
"It's not a theory, Thomas," Simone said, stepping closer to the head of the table. She pulled her tablet from her bag and tossed it onto the mahogany surface. It slid across the polished wood, stopping inches from Vance's coffee cup. The screen lit up automatically, displaying the high-resolution photograph of Vance standing in this exact room ten minutes earlier, alongside the emergency incident report stamped TERMINATE AUDIT.
"That's a secure internal feed," Henderson muttered, his face turning pale. "How did you—"
"An anonymous friend with better encryption protocols than your IT department," Simone lied smoothly, keeping her gaze fixed on Vance. "You orchestrated the whole thing, didn't you? You knew I was getting too close to the shell company transfers moving through the O'Hare hubs. So you tipped off the airline executives, arranged for Brenda Miller to provoke me, and hoped I'd react so you could pull my badge."
Vance slowly picked up the tablet, glanced at the screen, and then calmly set it back down. He adjusted his glasses, letting out a soft, theatrical sigh.
"You always were exceptionally thorough, Simone," Vance said, his tone shifting from paternal mentor to cold, calculating adversary. "And that was always your fatal flaw. You don't know when to look the other way."
"Is that what you told the board when you took their offshore retainers?" Simone challenged.
Vance didn't flinch. Instead, he reached into his suit jacket, pulled out a folded document, and slid it back across the table toward her.
May you like
"I told them," Vance whispered, his voice dropping into a chilling register, "that federal oversight is a negotiable commodity. And as of forty seconds ago, your federal credentials have been officially revoked for insubordination, unlawful detention of commercial personnel, and abuse of investigative authority."
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