Chapter 17 - THE CONFRONTATION IN CONFERENCE ROOM BConference Room B was sleek, modern, and entirely enclosed in soundproof glass. Julian Cross looked nervous, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he stood by the window overlooking the wet city streets. He was a small, neatly dressed man with nervous eyes and a briefcase clutched tightly in his sweating palms.
The heavy glass door clicked open, and Mara Vale walked in. She didn't smile. She walked with measured, deliberate steps, sitting down at the head of the conference table and gesturing for him to take a seat.
"Mr. Cross," Mara said, her voice cutting through the quiet room like a scalpel. "My secretary tells you have information about hidden assets. Let’s not waste time. What do you have?"
Julian swallowed hard, slowly setting his briefcase on the table and popping open the brass latches. He pulled out a thick manila folder stamped with Swiss banking insignia.
"Mrs. Vale... or should I say, Agent Vance's former federal partner," Julian stammered, offering a nervous, tight-lipped smile. "Word travels fast in Zurich banking circles. Everyone knows you’re the one who dismantled Roman's entire network."
Mara didn't blink. "Get to the point, Julian."
"Right. Well, Roman was arrogant, but he wasn't completely stupid," Julian said, sliding the folder across the mahogany table. "Before his arrest, he set up a secondary, highly encrypted contingency fund—ten million dollars parked in a bearer-bond shell corporation under a pseudonym. He left instructions that if he ever went down, the funds were to be used to hire aggressive international defense counsel and mount a counter-lawsuit against you."
Mara opened the folder. The documents were authentic. The routing numbers, the account signatures, the cryptographic keys—it was all there. Roman was still fighting from behind bars, still trying to claw his way back into a position of control.
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"Why bring this to me instead of executing his instructions?" Mara asked, her eyes narrowing as she studied the broker.
Julian leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Because Roman is locked away for fifteen years, Mrs. Vale. A dead man pays no commissions. But you? You control the corporate infrastructure now. I want a ten percent finder’s fee, clean immunity from federal prosecution, and a fresh corporate identity in a non-extradition country. In exchange, I hand you the master encryption key that wipes out Roman's final escape route permanently."
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