Chapter 12 - Quinn #2
“I agree with you, Nick,” I reply, nodding along.
“It would be very stupid to call a meeting and confess to crimes. Unless, of course, I learned through Miss Lucero’s account that the threat analysis program had been lowered to allow a certain someone plenty of time to go into the operating budget of the company and transfer money to an offshore account.
The threat analysis has a log, showing anytime it has been viewed or changed.
But don't take my word for it. Allow me to put it on the screen for you all to see it yourselves.”
Jon’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head. “What? No, no, you can't do that. You broke into the system, Quinn. You're done. Eden, call security. I'm putting an end to this.”
Jon pushes his chair back and tries to move to the front of the room, but before he can, I mirror my laptop to the big screen and show everyone the log details, where I have his name highlighted along with the timestamp. Jon freezes once the screen is populated.
“As you all can see here,” I continue. “The threat analysis program was lowered by none other than Mr. Jon Reid himself. And for my final act—the final nail in the coffin,” I minimize the threat analysis log and pull up a scanned copy of Annette’s report.
“Here is the report from the financial department, detailing when the transfer took place.
As you all can see, everything went down after Jon used his command station to lower the threat analysis.
Once the transfer was complete, he raised the threat analysis and logged out to cover his tracks.
So, yes, I broke the law to get this information.
But I didn't steal anything. It wasn't me who moved half a million dollars to god-knows-where. It was you, Jon.”
I stand at the front of the room and watch as the dark clouds roll in.
They settle in the center of the ceiling before moving directly over Jon as everyone turns to look at him.
His mood darkens like a starless night sky as he glances at each person, wondering if they believe the web I just spun.
But the evidence is right on the screen next to me.
There is no denying it and he knows it, so instead of denying, he snaps as he focuses his gaze on me.
He’s shaking with rage, and I fucking love it.
“I promoted you,” he growls, his jaw tensing.
“I brought you up here, and you have the nerve to accuse me of this? You think that little list is proof? I’m the goddamn CISO of this company, and checking the threat analysis is well within my responsibilities.
So, all of this was a waste of time, and I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you and your little whore are fucking out of here. You think I don't see what’s going on here? You think the little glances you two share are invisible to us? I know you're fucking, and maybe it’s time I make a trip to the bottom floor to pay HR a visit, since you're trying to fuck your way into another promotion. I’ll make sure everyone knows what you're doing, and even if it’s not true, the world listens when I speak. I will be CEO of this company before the sun goes down tonight, you motherfucker.”
I smile at Jon. “Ouch. Motherfucker? Geez, Jon, you're so hostile and emotional.
I feel threatened, and I figured you would play up this act of victimhood, because you're right about the list. All it does is show a strange coincidence about the threat analysis being tampered with at the exact time the money was being transferred. You're absolutely right. This is not concrete proof … which is why I had my friend, Rob Vaughn, the cybersecurity lead, confiscate all of your work equipment while we were in this meeting. His team is going to run an analysis on all prompts and keystrokes on your devices, and then they’ll reverse engineer everything you did on the night of the breach. Oh, and they’re also going to check the data on your security badge to see if you accessed the building last night.
It won't take long for all of the results to come back, but when they do, you're fucked, Jon.”
“You sonofabitch!” Jon yells as he slams his fists on the table so hard the entire thing rattles.
“Jon, don't,” Stephen screams at his friend, but Stephen isn't the ringleader. His voice has no power to Jon, so he can't stop the momentum of Jon’s anger as he charges toward me, his fists balled tight.
“Call security!” Olivia yells to Eden, just as Jon reaches me.
His body collides with mine with a powerful thud that nearly knocks me over, but I use my arms to lift his body up so that we’re eye level.
That's when he takes his first swing, drawing back like he’s trying to take my head off my shoulders with one powerful blow.
But the thing about cocking back that far is that it makes the punch slow.
I see it coming from a mile away, and when I step back, his fist misses by a mile.
The two punches I throw don't miss. Both of them hit their target like precision missiles detonating in the center of Jon’s face.
Blood explodes from his nose as he falls backward, landing on his back between Olivia and I just as security comes barreling through the door.
Three men in black and silver uniforms run in and lift Jon off the floor, forcing his arms behind his back as they stand him up like a prisoner being escorted.
“Get him out of here,” Olivia says with a beautiful snarl. “And we absolutely will be pressing every charge imaginable. You're fired, Jon.”
He doesn't even respond verbally. Blood leaks out of Jon’s nose and makes a long red streak on the carpet as he is escorted toward the doors, and the two henchmen who had been so vocal on his behalf have now become mute.
Stephen and Nick stand next to the table in complete shock, their eyes wide with disbelief and their fear of being alone.
That’s what happens when you cut the head off of a snake.
The rest of the body doesn't know how to react.
All they can do is watch their friend being dragged out of the room.
The entire scene fills me with unbridled joy, because this is exactly what Jon deserves.
This is what he gets for being a hard-headed prick, hating on a woman and expecting everyone else to do the same.
Now he knows that there are some people who don't stand for bullshit. I guess he had to learn the hard way.
I watch security take him out, and as they open the conference room doors to step out, I make sure to fire off one last salvo so that Jon never forgets what happened here.
“Coming at me was one thing, Jon,” I shout. “But trying to take down Olivia was where you really fucked up. Now I'm going to take your job. How's that for typical? Motherfucker.”
Jon glares at me over his shoulder one last time, and I smile big and wide just before security tightens their grip on his arms and takes him out of the room.