Chapter 6: The Hunter Becomes the Hunted

Harold Pierce had vanished without a trace.

His abandoned luxury sedan sat in the airport parking garage with the engine cold, his briefcase lying neatly on the passenger seat, and his passport tucked inside the glove compartment. To the average observer, it looked as though he'd disappeared into thin air.

But Theresa didn't believe in impossible disappearances.

"People don't simply evaporate," she said as she studied the photographs spread across the conference table.

"Either someone helped him escape... or someone made sure he never could."

Detective Mason nodded in agreement.

"Our officers reviewed every surveillance camera around the airport. Harold entered the parking garage at 8:17 a.m., but he never walked into the terminal."

"Did he leave through another exit?" Dennis asked.

"No."

"Then where did he go?"

"That's exactly what we're trying to figure out."

The detective placed another folder in front of Theresa.

"There's something else."

"Your cybersecurity team uncovered several encrypted emails sent from Harold's company account over the past eight months."

"Were they recovered?" Theresa asked.

"Partially."

"Who were they sent to?"

"An anonymous account registered through multiple offshore servers."

"No name."

"No location."

"No owner."

"Professional," Theresa murmured.

"Very."

Dennis rubbed his temples.

"So Harold wasn't working alone."

"It appears not."

Amelia entered the room carrying another stack of documents.

"Chairwoman, we finished tracing the money."

"And?"

"Twenty-seven million dollars didn't remain in one account."

"It was split into hundreds of smaller transfers before being funneled through six shell companies."

"Every transfer stayed below the reporting threshold."

"Whoever designed this understood financial regulations extremely well."

Theresa slowly leaned back in her chair.

"That rules out Jessica."

"She was greedy."

"Not intelligent enough to build something this complicated."

Dennis nodded reluctantly.

"She was just a pawn."

"Exactly."

At that moment, Detective Mason's phone rang.

He listened silently before hanging up.

"We found Harold."

Everyone immediately stood.

"Where is he?" Dennis asked.

"An abandoned warehouse near the shipping docks."

"Is he alive?"

The detective hesitated.

"Barely."

Forty minutes later...

Theresa, Dennis, and Detective Mason arrived at the warehouse.

Police cars surrounded the building.

Paramedics rushed a stretcher toward an ambulance.

Harold Pierce lay unconscious beneath an oxygen mask.

His expensive suit was torn, and dried blood stained the side of his face.

"What happened?" Dennis asked.

One of the officers answered.

"Looks like someone questioned him before leaving him here."

"Questioned?"

"Several broken ribs."

"Bruises across his back."

"Signs of prolonged restraint."

"This wasn't random violence."

"Someone wanted information."

Theresa frowned.

"Or wanted to make sure he stayed silent."

As the paramedics prepared to load Harold into the ambulance, his eyes fluttered open.

He weakly looked around before locking eyes with Theresa.

"You..." he whispered.

She stepped closer.

"Who did this to you?"

Harold tried to speak.

Blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"The... Board..."

"What board?" Theresa asked urgently.

"Who are you talking about?"

Harold's trembling hand reached into his jacket pocket.

He pulled out a tiny silver flash drive before pressing it into Theresa's palm.

"Don't... trust..."

His voice suddenly stopped.

The heart monitor beside the stretcher began screaming.

"He's crashing!" one paramedic shouted.

"Move!"

Doctors rushed him into the ambulance.

The doors slammed shut.

Within seconds, the vehicle sped toward the hospital.

Theresa looked down at the flash drive in her hand.

"Did he finish what he was saying?" Dennis asked.

"No."

"He only managed two words."

"Don't trust..."

"Trust who?" Dennis wondered.

"We'll find out."

Back at White Capital headquarters, Amelia immediately plugged the flash drive into an isolated computer.

Several encrypted folders appeared.

"Password protected," she said.

"Can you crack it?"

"Give me a few minutes."

The room remained silent except for the sound of rapidly moving fingers across the keyboard.

Finally...

"I'm in."

The first folder opened.

Dozens of scanned contracts filled the screen.

Secret payment records.

Offshore account numbers.

Executive approvals.

But one document immediately caught Theresa's attention.

Its title read:

"Project Phoenix."

"Open it," Theresa said.

Amelia clicked.

A list of names appeared.

Harold Pierce.

Jessica Thompson.

Several regional managers.

Three accountants.

Two software engineers.

Each name had received monthly payments from the same offshore account.

Dennis stared at the screen.

"That's everyone involved."

"No," Theresa corrected.

"Look at the last page."

Amelia scrolled down.

At the very bottom was another payment.

No name.

Only a title.

"Chairman."

Amount transferred:

Fifteen million dollars.

Dennis frowned.

"Chairman?"

"But you're the Chairwoman."

"Exactly." Theresa whispered.

"Which means someone inside White Capital has been secretly calling themselves Chairman."

Detective Mason leaned closer to the screen.

"There's another file attached."

"Play it."

Amelia clicked the audio recording.

Static filled the speakers.

Then a distorted male voice echoed through the conference room.

"If Harold talks... eliminate him."

"If Theresa starts asking questions..."

"Make sure she never gets the chance to finish them."

The recording ended.

Silence consumed the room.

Dennis's face turned white.

"Someone wants you dead."

Before anyone could respond, the building's emergency alarm suddenly blared.

Red lights flashed throughout White Capital headquarters.

Amelia looked toward the security monitor.

Her face drained of color.

"Chairwoman..."

"Someone just hacked our building security system."

"Every exit has been locked..."

"And the power is shutting down floor by floor."