Chapter 13 - The Shadow at the DoorOur peaceful afternoon was shattered abruptly just as the sun began to dip below the Chicago skyline, painting the clouds in bruised shades of purple and orange.
A sharp, authoritative knock echoed through the penthouse suite.
We both froze. I instinctively pulled Rachel slightly behind me, my muscles tightening into a defensive posture. Federal protection was supposed to be absolute, but old habits—and recent trauma—died hard.
“Stay here,” I muttered, stepping quietly across the hardwood floor toward the heavy oak entryway.
I checked the security monitor by the door. Standing outside in the hallway wasn't a corporate goon or a hitman, but a sharp-looking woman in a charcoal-grey federal prosecutor suit, flanked by two armed United States Marshals.
I unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open.
“Mr. Bennett,” the prosecutor said crisply, flashing an official badge before glancing past me into the brightly lit living room. “And Ms. Lawson. I apologize for the unannounced visit, but developments in the Vance case require your immediate attention.”
Rachel stepped up beside me, her professional composure instantly sliding back into place like armor. She didn't look flustered at all; instead, her eyes narrowed with sharp analytical focus.
“Agent Miller,” Rachel acknowledged, nodding to the prosecutor. “What kind of developments? I thought Marcus was securely behind bars awaiting arraignment.”
“He was,” Agent Miller replied grimly, stepping into the foyer without waiting for an invitation. “Until two hours ago, when his legal team filed an emergency motion claiming that the digital evidence obtained from your flash drive was acquired via an unlawful private search and seizure, rendering it inadmissible.”
My jaw tightened. “Unlawful? I saved her life from a guy wielding a crowbar!”
“Legally speaking, Mr. Bennett, your heroic intervention is currently causing a constitutional headache for the District Attorney,” Miller explained, pulling a tablet out of her leather briefcase. “More importantly, Marcus’s CFO just flipped on a secondary offshore account—one that implicates a much larger syndicate operating out of Zurich. And they believe Marcus transferred the primary encryption keys to a secondary vault right here in Illinois before he was cornered.”
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Rachel crossed her arms over her chest, her expression turning ice-cold. “Let me guess. They need the master decryption key that only my old workstation profile can access.”
“Precisely,” Miller said, looking directly at Rachel. “And to get it, we need you to walk back into the corporate headquarters under federal protection tomorrow morning to execute the data transfer before Vance’s injunction goes through.”
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