"I got it," I gasped, holding up the USB drive. "I got the offline communications. Brad is moving the cash offshore tonight. He's fleeing. We have to go to the FBI right now."
Lucas stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the small drive in my hand. "Give it to me, David."
"Well, well. Look what the rats dragged in."
My blood ran cold.
The heavy metal door at the top of the stairwell banged open.
Brad stood at the landing, silhouetted against the bright hallway light. Flanking him were Trent and Greg.
Greg didn't hesitate. The massive VP of Sales charged down the concrete steps. Before I could even turn to run, Greg slammed his shoulder into my chest, driving me hard against the cinderblock wall. All the air exploded from my lungs. My leather portfolio spilled across the stairs, papers flying everywhere.
Trent ran down right behind him, grabbing my wrist and violently twisting my arm behind my back. I cried out in pain, dropping the USB drive. It clattered down the concrete steps, coming to rest near Lucas's heavy work boots.
Lucas didn't move to fight them. He just stood there, watching the scene with that same terrifying, unreadable calm.
Brad walked slowly down the stairs, taking his time. He stopped on the step just above Lucas, looking down at the older man in the gray uniform.
"I knew we had a rat," Brad sneered, adjusting his designer cuffs. "I didn't think the CFO would team up with the trash that cleans the toilets."
Brad stepped down, intentionally bringing his polished leather shoe down onto the encrypted USB drive. I heard a sharp crack as the delicate plastic casing shattered, crushing the memory chip inside.
"No!" I yelled, struggling against Trent's grip, but Greg drove a heavy forearm into my shoulder, pinning me tight against the wall.
"There goes your insurance policy, David," Brad laughed. He kicked the shattered pieces of the drive aside. He looked at Lucas. "As for you, old man, you're fired. Get off my property before I have Greg break your jaw."
Lucas looked at the crushed drive, then slowly raised his eyes to Brad. The predatory smile returned to the older man's face, cold and razor-sharp in the dim stairwell.
"You should be careful what you destroy, Brad," Lucas said, his voice entirely devoid of fear. "Sometimes the backups are kept by people you can't intimidate."
Brad scoffed, though I saw a brief flicker of unease in his eyes. He turned his back on Lucas. "Throw them both out into the street. Lock the building down."
Trent and Greg shoved me roughly down the remaining stairs, dragging me through the rear fire exit and throwing me out onto the cold pavement of the alleyway behind the building. Lucas walked out under his own power, brushing past the goons.
The heavy steel door slammed shut behind us. The deadbolt locked.
I stumbled, catching myself on a dirty brick wall. I was breathing hard, my arm throbbing from where Trent had twisted it.
I was ruined. The evidence was destroyed. Brad had won.
"It's over," I whispered, sliding down the brick wall until I was sitting on the cold asphalt. I put my head in my hands, thinking of Chloe. "He destroyed the drive. He's going to steal the money tonight and I'm going to take the fall. I have nothing."
A pair of heavy work boots stepped into my field of vision.
I looked up. Lucas was looking down at me.
He didn't look defeated. In fact, he looked mildly annoyed by the dust on his uniform.
Lucas slowly reached into his deep pocket and pulled out his phone. He dialed a single number and held it to his ear.
"It's me," Lucas said into the phone. The gravelly, blue-collar accent was gone, replaced by the crisp, commanding tone of a man accustomed to wielding absolute authority. "Execute protocol zero on AuraNet. Freeze their liquid assets immediately. Block all outgoing offshore wire transfers. I want Brad locked in a financial cage he can't buy his way out of."
He paused, listening to the voice on the other end.
"And tell the board..." Lucas lowered his voice, his eyes locked on mine. "...I'll be taking the acquisition meeting in person tomorrow morning."
He hung up the phone.
A sleek, heavily armored black Cadillac Escalade pulled quietly into the alleyway, its headlights cutting through the dark. The driver's side door opened, and a man in a sharp black suit stepped out, opening the rear passenger door for Lucas.
My jaw hung open. I stared at the man in the dirty gray uniform, my mind connecting the impossible dots. The vintage Patek watch. The proprietary Omni terminal. The initials L.V. in the access logs.
"You," I breathed, the realization hitting me with the force of a freight train. "You're Lucas Vance."
Lucas, the billionaire Chairman of Omni Capital, paused with his hand on the door of the Escalade. He looked back at me, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
"Get some sleep, David," Lucas said quietly. "Tomorrow, we wear suits."