Chapter 14 - The Ghost in the Machine
We needed proof that Thomas could not bury under a mountain of judicial immunity. Digital records could be hacked, wiped, or declared inadmissible due to chain-of-custody technicalities. We needed the physical master key—a secure flash drive containing the unencrypted financial records of the D.A.’s offshore accounts, kept inside Thomas’s private penthouse office in Tribeca.
“The building has biometric access elevators and private security patrols every twenty minutes,” I said, studying the architectural blueprints Nora had laid out across the kitchen table. “We can’t just walk through the front door.”
“We won't,” Nora said, pulling a set of master electrical schematics from the bottom of a box. “We go in through the utility sub-basement during the Manhattan Starlight Gala—the exact same night Thomas is hosting his major campaign fundraiser upstairs.”
A grim smile touched the corner of my lips. “Going back to a black-tie gala. You have a terrible habit of dragging me back to high society, Nora.”
“It’peculiar how history repeats itself,” she replied, sliding a compact, suppressed pistol across the table toward me. “Only this time, we aren't the targets.”
Two nights later, dressed in the dark, utilitarian garb of utility contractors, we slipped through the steam grates of Tribeca into the labyrinthine sub-basement of the D.A.’s high-rise headquarters. The rhythmic thump of bass and muffled laughter filtered down through the concrete ceiling from the grand penthouse ballroom above, where hundreds of wealthy donors were once again sipping champagne and celebrating a man they believed was clean.
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Using a borrowed service badge and a stolen override code, we bypassed the freight elevator and climbed the maintenance stairs directly to the twentieth floor. The corridor outside Thomas’s private office was completely deserted, save for a single private security guard scrolling through his phone by the double doors.
Nora didn't hesitate. She stepped around the corner, her movements silent as a shadow, and before the guard could look up, her arm wrapped around his throat in a clean, practiced chokehold. He slumped unconscious into her arms before he could draw a breath.
