Chapter 4 - The Trojan CFO
The next morning, the air in the lobby of the Olympic Hotel was thick with the scent of lilies and expensive cologne.
Preston Hale sat at a corner table, sipping an espresso, looking entirely unbothered by the fact that he had ordered a hit on a woman's apartment twelve hours prior. When Tally walked in, wearing a sharp new designer suit paid for by Horizon Capital, his eyes widened slightly before settling into a smug, victorious grin.
"Tally," he said, not standing up. "I must say, I’m surprised you called. And even more surprised you look so... put together. I heard you had a bit of a break-in last night. Seattle is getting so dangerous."
Tally sat down opposite him. She didn't order anything. She leaned in, her eyes cold and completely devoid of fear.
"Cut the crap, Preston. Your thugs didn't find the ledger because I had it with me. And now, I have the decryption keys for the Panama routing codes."
Preston’s smug smile faltered. His eyes darted around the lobby. "You don't know what you're playing with, Tally."
"I know exactly what I'm playing with. I know Davis is laundering five hundred million through the Harfield acquisition. And I know you planned to use this ledger to blackball him and take his seat." Tally tapped her fingers on the table. "I want ten million. In a secure offshore account. You have forty-eight hours."
"Ten million?" Preston hissed. "Are you insane?"
"The information on this drive is worth a hundred million to the federal prosecutors, and death to Davis. Ten million is a discount." She stood up, smoothing her skirt. "I’ll send you the routing details. If the transfer isn't initiated by Friday at 4:00 PM—during the Harfield closing ceremony—the keys go to the SEC. And I'll make sure Davis knows exactly who sent those men to my apartment."
She walked away without waiting for an answer.
Behind her, Preston’s face was white with fury. He immediately pulled out his phone and dialed.
What Preston didn't know was that the phone Tally had used to contact him was equipped with a localized IMSI catcher, courtesy of Vance Thorne’s security team.
Back in the black SUV parked outside the hotel, Vance sat with a pair of headphones on, listening to the intercepted audio.
"Davis," Preston’s voice crackled through the receiver. "We have a problem. Tally has the backup ledgers. She knows about Harfield. She’s demanding ten million, or she goes to the feds."
There was a pause, followed by Davis’s panicked, breathless reply: "Kill her, Preston. I don't care what it takes. If she talks, we are both dead."
Vance took off his headphones and looked at Tally as she slid into the passenger seat.
May you like
"They bit the bait," Vance said.
"They did," Tally said, her heart pounding, though her face remained an icy mask. "Now, we trigger the override."
