Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The building rose above her, its facade cold in a way that made her palms damp despite the summer warmth.
A U.S. flag flapped from a pole above the entrance, joined by the FBI seal etched in glass near the revolving doors.
She shifted her satchel higher on her shoulder, trying to quell her nervousness. She was completely out of her depth.
With a deep breath, she walked over and entered the building.
The interior lobby of the Jacob K. Javits Federal Building was imposing.
Slate floors and security cameras tucked into corners.
Lines of metal detectors were manned by federal guards in pressed uniforms, and behind them, beyond a set of glass partitions, was the entrance to the FBI field office for the Southern District of New York.
Everything about the place radiated authority.
Stiffening her shoulders, she joined the security line.
"Next," the guard called, waving her forward.
Kathleen stepped up, putting her bag on the conveyor belt.
She slipped off her watch and passed through the metal detector, flinching slightly at the loud beep.
With a sheepish look, she placed the set of keys from her pocket onto to the belt and passed through again.
"Purpose of visit?" another guard asked, eyeing her ID.
"I have information relating to a federal crime. I need to speak to someone in cybercrime or intellectual property theft," she said, striving for calm.
The guard gave her a long look before nodding. "Wait over there."
She sat on a grey bench with a few others, mostly suits scrolling their phones.
The minutes crawled by. Her fingers kept straying to her satchel, where a flash drive was zipped into a side pocket.
Everything was on it: the research theft, the dark web auction screenshots, the shell company trails, and all connected to Darlene Hunt.
Eventually, a young man in a dark suit stepped into the lobby and looked around.
"Dr. Kathleen Knowles?"
She stood up, relieved. "That’s me.”
He nodded his head without smiling. "I’m Agent Mike Ramirez. Come with me, please."
He led her down a secured corridor, past frosted-glass offices where people worked at computers.
Kathleen kept her eyes ahead, swallowing to moisten her throat.
She'd never been inside a federal building before, and the sheer weight of government infrastructure pressing in around her made her feel jittery and small.
Ramirez held open a door to a glass-walled conference room and gestured for her to take a seat. "Would you like some water?"
She nodded, and he returned a moment later with a bottle, setting it beside her.
"You said this is about intellectual property theft?"
Kathleen took a deep breath. "Yes. I’m a scientist. I recently published a scientific paper that involves bioengineered energy-producing aquatic plants. The data from my private lab was stolen. We believe it's being auctioned on a dark web site."
Ramirez raised an eyebrow. "We?"
"I was alerted by someone with cybersecurity experience. He provided the trail to an offshore account connected to a woman named Darlene Hunt. She’s not a scientist. She’s connected to private energy investors."
Ramirez leaned back slightly. "Do you have evidence?"
Kathleen unzipped her satchel and placed the flash drive on the table. "All of it is on here. It includes screenshots of the dark web listing, a link to the auction, financial routing through shell corporations, and evidence of a false patent filed under EW Enterprises."
Ramirez plugged the drive into his laptop, opening a few files. His eyes flicked back and forth rapidly, scanning. He made no expression, but Kathleen saw his jaw tighten.
"This is comprehensive. Who gave you this intel?"
Kathleen hesitated, keeping her voice even. "An anonymous source. A whistleblower who’s worked in cybersecurity circles. I was told to protect their identity."
He nodded slowly. "Understood." He rose. "I need to get one of our cyber agents in here. This kind of data needs expert review. Please wait here."
She watched him leave, the door whispering shut behind him.
Her stomach churned and her legs shook under the table.
She pressed hard on the top of her thighs to stop the trembling.
For a moment she considered getting up and leaving, but fought the urge.
She had come this far and she had to do this for both hers and Veronica’s sakes.
Ten minutes later, the door opened again and Agent Ramirez returned with a woman in her early forties who he introduced as Agent Tamara Singh.
She looked every bit the seasoned federal agent: tall, composed, and intimidating.
Her skin was a light brown and her dark hair pulled into a sleek bun that didn’t budge.
She wore minimal makeup, save for a swipe of deep red lipstick that made her look even more serious.
Her charcoal suit was crisply pressed, the heels low, and her FBI ID clipped neatly to her lapel.
Kathleen always noticed the small details—a discreet smartwatch, no jewellery, a military-straight posture.
"Dr. Knowles, this is Special Agent Tamara Singh. She works in our cybercrimes division."
Singh offered her hand and Kathleen took it. “Please, call me Kathleen.”
"I’ve been briefed, Kathleen,” said Singh taking a seat opposite. “We scanned the metadata on your files. Your whistleblower knows their stuff. This auction is real and it’s dangerous. Tell me in your own words about your research and why they want it.”
Kathleen tried to simplify the explanation but she could see half-way through that Singh’s eyes were glazing over. “Can you understand me?” she asked.
The agent gave a dry smile. “Not really, but I worked out that this is ground-breaking research and will revolutionize the power industry. The product is worth a lot of money, hence the auction.”
“It is. The plants don’t only store energy, they harvest it. They’re alive, and function like supercapacitors. You can drain them and they’ll recover. You can wire them into a converter and get measurable current. No mining, no carbon, only growth. It’s the future.”
Singh blinked at her. “And you genetically engineered them?”
Kathleen nodded.
Singh tapped her finger on the table. “Whoever buys them will have enough to reproduce them?”
“Yes,” said Kathleen. “They have all my notes that I haven’t included in the publication.”
“So, they’ll use their own scientists to make these…ah…plants.”
Kathleen gave a small smile. “Strictly speaking—yes. As yet, I haven’t worked out a way to keep them alive in soil, but I’m working on it.”
Singh looked at her thoughtfully. “By that statement, I’d say they are buying a product that needs more research.”
Kathleen nodded. "This is only the beginning. It’ll be years before I can have them working in a sustainable way. They will replace fossil fuels but not immediately.”
Singh gave a dry laugh. “I’m guessing the bidders don’t quite know that.”
Kathleen looked at her anxiously. “Can you stop the auction?"
"If we act quickly. But this level of encryption and anonymity means it won’t be easy. We’ll need your full cooperation. Names, contacts, and anything else that might give us a lead on how the theft occurred."
"I didn’t give anyone access," Kathleen said. "I thought it might’ve been a cleaner, but the firm swore no one was let in. Which means someone bypassed the lab’s security manually."
Singh frowned. "Then they had technical knowledge of your systems—or inside help."
Kathleen looked down. Her hands felt suddenly cold.
"We’ll begin tracking the funds," Singh continued. "The offshore account in Hunt’s name may give us leverage, but she’ll have buffers in place. Still, this is a grand felony—intellectual property theft, conspiracy, and attempted sale of classified research.”
Kathleen exhaled. "What happens now?"
"We start the clock," Ramirez said. "We’ll issue a quiet subpoena to the hosting platform and begin backtracking the encryption. You’ll be assigned a contact here at the office. And we’d recommend you increase your personal security in the meantime."
Singh handed her a card. "This is me. Call if anything changes, day or night. Don’t try to access the auction site again. Leave that to us."
Kathleen took the card with shaking fingers. "Okay. Thank you."
Singh stood up. “It has been a pleasure to meet you, Kathleen.” Her face crinkled into a smile and softened. “I think I’ll be telling my grandchildren that I once met the famous Dr Knowles.”
Kathleen stepped out into the sunlight feeling ten pounds lighter—and twice as exposed. She turned her face toward the sun, blinking against the glare. Somewhere out there, Darlene Hunt still thought she was winning.
But that was about to change.
As she walked toward Foley Square, she checked her phone. There was a new message from Veronica: Call me when you’re out. I want to know everything.
Kathleen texted back, Give me ten minutes. I need air.
She walked for several blocks, weaving through lunchtime foot traffic, the crush of city workers pouring out of buildings. Her mind spun. She was in it now—truly in it. She’d stepped into the machine.
Outside a small café near Centre Street, she finally sat down and called Veronica. Her voice was low, nearly steady.
"I did it. I handed over the files. They’re taking it seriously. Very seriously."
Veronica let out a long breath. "I knew they would. You’re safe, Kathleen. I’m proud of you."
Kathleen didn’t feel proud. Not yet. Not until it was over. Not until she knew the auction had been stopped and Darlene was held accountable. For now, she was tired, bracing for whatever came next.
T hat evening, Kathleen went to Veronica’s apartment. The door opened before she knocked, Veronica standing barefoot in the doorway with a tired, cautious smile.
"You made it."
Kathleen stepped inside, kicked off her shoes, placing them against the wall, allowing herself a moment to sink into the quiet calm of the room.
Veronica poured them each a glass of wine and they settled onto the couch.
"So," Kathleen said. "What now?"
Veronica leaned back. "Now we figure out how Darlene got her hands on your data."
Kathleen set down her glass. "It has to be someone from the Institute.”
"Then we find out who," Veronica said. "And we do it Saturday night."
Kathleen frowned. "At the cocktail party?"
Veronica nodded. "Everyone will be there. Ask Edith to bring Darlene. Say you were quite taken with her or some bullshit like that. We’ll watch, listen. I’ll get close."
Kathleen hesitated. "Will you come with me?"
“Should I? Your parents will be there.”
"It’s the only way I can justify you being there is to come with me.”
Veronica dropped her head, avoiding her eyes. “I know but I plan to get close to Darlene. Otherwise, I won’t be able to find out a thing.”
Kathleen felt a stab of jealousy. How close did Veronica mean? She bit back a heated protest and watched Veronica. “You don’t have to do that," she murmured.
"Yes, I do," Veronica said, without looking up. "If I don’t, she gets away with it. I’ll accompany you to the cocktail party on Saturday night. Darlene will think you hired me for the night.”
Kathleen looked unconvinced but nodded.
Veronica swallowed the last of her wine and walked to the small kitchen to check on a pasta dish on the stove.
"That smells wonderful," Kathleen said
"The meal is the one thing I can control tonight," Veronica said.
They ate quietly, then cleaned up side by side, plates clinking in the sink, water running.
Kathleen leaned against the counter when they were done. "When this is over... what happens next?" she asked softly.
Veronica didn’t answer at first, then whispered, "I don’t know. I’ve lived in a grey zone for so long I’m not sure how to come out of it. But I want to."
Kathleen nodded, letting that land. It wasn’t a promise, but it was something.
Later that night, as they lay tangled together in bed after making love, Kathleen stared at the ceiling, her thoughts spinning quietly.
She had no idea how this was going to end, but she hated the thought of Veronica with Darlene.