Do Not Open Those Files
Wald
“They absolutely must not open the files. They’re tagged. If they access them, the trail could lead straight back to you.”
Fuck.
I hang up on her before Bianca can even finish her sentence.
Then I immediately dial another number.
My head of security answers after two rings.
“Do not open the files.”
A silence.
“Excuse me?”
“The stolen files. Don’t open anything. Disconnect every affected machine immediately and isolate the servers.”
“Sir… we followed protocol. The files were opened on an offline workstation.”
I pause.
Good.
At least someone in this company still has a brain.
“No network access?”
“None.”
Good. That could have been much worse.
Then he adds:
“But the biochemist later transferred his analysis notes to the internal network.”
Silence crashes down again.
Brutal.
“What?”
“He thought the files themselves were secure. He only reconnected the machine after completing the analysis.”
Irritation hardens into something far more dangerous.
Incompetent fools.
“How long has that machine been reconnected?”
“About twenty minutes.”
Twenty minutes. More than enough time for their tracking system to have already communicated with their servers.
Fuck.
“Shut down the internal network immediately. Isolate every affected machine. And find out what communicated externally.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And once that’s done… you’re fired.”
I hang up without waiting for a reply.
My phone rings again almost immediately.
The biochemist.
“What now?”
“The files we were looking for aren’t there.”
I go still.
“Explain.”
“The folders are labeled NRX-889, but the contents don’t match. They’re old research leads. Abandoned molecules. Incomplete protocols. Some of the data is even inconsistent.”
A trap.
I grip my phone so hard the screen cracks beneath my fingers.
They let us steal exactly what they wanted us to steal.
And meanwhile, they’re probably already tracing everything back to us.
“Keep looking,” I order.
“Sir, this data is useless—”
“Never question my orders.”
I end the call.
My secretary, silent until now, finally risks looking up at me.
“Why are you so obsessed with this? There are plenty of other promising projects.”
I slowly turn my head toward her.
“Be quiet. I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
She immediately lowers her gaze.
I stand and walk toward the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Paris stretches out beneath my feet.
I’ve spent my entire life getting what I wanted.
That isn’t about to change today.
No matter the cost.