Chapter 8 - The Federal Warrant
By Monday morning, the federal courthouse in downtown Manhattan was surrounded by media vans and satellite trucks. The digital ledger leaks we had uploaded from the Silver Creek precinct had triggered an automated, multi-state sweep by the Department of Justice and the Securities and Exchange Commission against Sterling Capital Partners.
I stood on the stone steps of the courthouse alongside Deputy Henderson, who had safely transported my father and Lily to a secure residence in Westchester.
A sleek black town car pulled up to the curb. Federal Marshals stepped out, escorting Julian Sterling and his lead corporate counsel, Harrison, up the steps in handcuffs. Julian’s custom-tailored suit was wrinkled, his hair disheveled, his previous untouchable aura replaced by a desperate, seething rage as flashbulbs blinded him from every angle.
As he passed me on the steps, Julian stopped for a fraction of a second, his eyes narrowing into venomous slits.
“You think you’ve won, Vance,” Julian spat out through clenched teeth. “A corporation like mine doesn't just disappear because of a data leak. I have political insulation that goes all the way to Washington.”
“Your insulation was routed through off-shore accounts that I personally engineered the encryption architecture for, Julian,” I replied coldly. “I built your vault. And I knew every single backdoor you left open.”
A federal marshal nudged Julian forward, forcing him through the heavy glass doors of the courthouse.
May you like
Harrison, the corporate attorney, looked pale and broken as he walked past me, whispering, “We’re cooperating with the prosecutor’s office, Alex. Sterling ordered the hit on your wife through an unregistered subsidiary. We have the paper trail.”
I nodded once, letting them pass. The architect of the nightmare was finally facing the unyielding weight of justice.
