Chapter 7 - THE MICROCHIP REVELATIONEzra walked slowly over to the sofa, kneeling down so he was eye-level with his daughter.
"Rosie, listen to me very carefully," Ezra said, his voice steady and low. "What did you see at the docks? What do you know about Marcus?"
Rosie reached into the pocket of her oversized, blood-stained jacket and pulled out a small, jagged piece of metal she had pried loose from the hidden compartment of Brutus's collar before the medics arrived. She handed it to her father.
"Brutus didn't run away eight years ago, Dad," Rosie said, her voice trembling slightly with suppressed rage. "Uncle Marcus's men locked him in that container the night Grandma died. They thought the dog was dead. But I found the keyhole behind the loose wall panel six months ago when I was hiding from the bad men who took me."
Ezra took the metal piece. He turned it over and pressed a tiny release catch on the side.
A microscopic microSD card dropped out into his palm.
Doc looked up from the dog. "Boss... do you want me to port that to the secure rig in the vault?"
"Do it now," Ezra commanded.
Five minutes later, Doc stood before the massive wall-mounted digital display in Ezra’s private study, plugging the chip into the tactical terminal.
Lines of encrypted data cascaded down the screen, followed by an audio waveform.
Ezra hit play.
The tinty, distorted sound of a recorded telephone conversation filled the silent room.
“...The old lady’s car is off the cliff on Route 9,” a voice rasped—a voice Ezra recognized instantly as his own head of corporate compliance, Gregory Vance. “The brakes were cut just like Marcus asked. But what do we do about the mastiff? It went berserk and bit through one of my guards' arms.”
A second voice answered—cool, smooth, and unmistakably Marcus Vance.
“Shoot the beast and dump it in the lower container yards. Let everyone think it wandered off. Once Ezra takes over the syndicate, we’ll slowly squeeze him out and take full control of the port logistics contracts. Just make sure the girl... wait, where’s the girl?”
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“She was in the back seat, sir. She must have climbed out before the car went over. She’s wandering the woods near the overlook.”
“Find her,” Marcus’s voice hissed on the recording. “And make sure she never makes it back to her father.”
