Chapter 3 - The Boardroom SerpentThe executive boardroom on the fiftieth floor of Mercer Global was suffocatingly quiet. Sunlight poured through the reinforced glass, casting long shadows across the obsidian conference table. Richard Vance, senior vice president and Grant’s oldest, most trusted confidant, sat casually at the end of the table, tapping a gold fountain pen against his palm.
"You look tired, Grant," Richard remarked smoothly, not looking up from his tablet. "Another sleepless night searching for ghosts? It’s admirable, really, your loyalty. But business waits for no man, and the board is getting restless about your absence from the Tokyo negotiations."
Grant didn't sit down. He stood behind his high-backed leather chair, his hands resting heavily on the frame. The micro-drive Nora had given him burned in his pocket like hot coals. Every file, every encrypted transfer, every offshore account linked to Mara's disappearance pointed directly to Richard’s private holding company.
"Tokyo can wait, Richard," Grant said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "I was just reviewing some old security logs from the night Mara disappeared. Found an interesting anomaly in the private hangar surveillance."
Richard’s pen stopped tapping. Just for a fraction of a second, his eyes flicked upward, narrowing slightly before smoothing back into a mask of corporate warmth. "Oh? After five years, you're digging through hangar logs? Surely the authorities cleared all of that."
"The authorities didn't have the encryption key to the secondary server," Grant replied, walking slowly around the table. "The server that tracked unauthorized charter flights leaving under a classified corporate code. A code only two people possessed. Me, and the chief operating officer."
Richard set his tablet down, folding his hands neatly over the glass surface. The easy, friendly smile vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating edge that Grant had never seen in all their twenty years of partnership.
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"You always were too thorough for your own good, Grant," Richard sighed softly. "Mara was brilliant. Too brilliant. She stumbled onto the weaponized defense contracts we were funneling through the subsidiary accounts. She threatened to tear down everything we built. What was I supposed to do? Let her ruin us?"
Grant lunged across the table, his fingers catching Richard by the lapels of his custom suit, slamming him against the reinforced glass wall with a deafening crash.
