Chapter 15 Collision Course
Collision Course
The scent of strong coffee and the low hum of high-spec computing equipment subtly altered the usual ambiance of the palace conference room.
Harper was seated at the polished mahogany table, a secure tablet displaying financial webs open on her lap.
Sebastian was pacing restlessly by the tall, ornate windows, a stark contrast to the room’s formal grandeur, as he often did when a plan was forming.
“The paper trails are dense, and Hawthorne’s lawyers have been burying his dealings under layers of shell corporations for decades,” Harper was saying, tapping her pen against the tablet.
“We have the initial leads, the records Sarah provided were a goldmine, but to really nail him, we need to follow the digital money. The really dirty money. And that’s encrypted, rerouted, and likely hidden behind tech I can’t easily crack. ”
Sebastian stopped pacing. “Which is why I’ve called in a specialist.”
Harper’s eyebrows rose. “A specialist? Not another aristocratic ‘consultant’ with a conveniently flexible moral code?”
“Hardly.” A grin touched Sebastian’s lips. “This one’s an American. And his moral code is… well, it’s results-oriented.”
Right on cue, Ethan Klein entered, strolling with a low-level energy that seemed barely contained. He carried a slim, ultra-modern laptop in one hand, the other already tapping an impatient rhythm against his leg.
He paused in the doorway, taking in the scene, and Harper found herself doing the same with him.
There was something effortlessly appealing about him—the kind of classic American boy next door looks that belonged in a college brochure.
Dark brown hair with just enough curl to look naturally tousled.
Warm hazel eyes that seemed to take in everything at once, and an easy confidence that suggested he was comfortable in his own skin.
When he smiled—and he was smiling now, that disarmingly genuine grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes—it was the kind of expression that probably got him out of speeding tickets and into exclusive parties with equal ease.
“So this is the command center, nice,” he said, mostly to himself, before turning his full attention to them. He walked towards Harper and extended his hand in introduction. “Ethan Klein. And you must be the one causing all the fun trouble.”
Harper met his gaze, as she shook his hand, bracing herself for whatever fresh chaos Sebastian had introduced her to. “Harper Sinclair,” she said. “And you must be one of Sebastian’s charming disasters.”
Sebastian let out a quiet sigh that went pointedly ignored by Ethan.
“Technically, I’m his friend,” he replied, unbothered. “Though I’ll admit ‘charming disaster’ has a nice ring to it.”
“Sorry,” Harper replied. “I’m just wary of Sebastian’s friends. Most of them are chaos in living form. It’s not great when you have work to do on a deadline.”
Ethan laughed. “You’re not wrong. However, I’m probably one of the exceptions, as I’ve actually worked for a living. At one point I basically lived in a basement server farm, and there was a six-month stretch where I forgot what daylight looked like.”
That tugged a reluctant smirk from her. “All right. A sense of humor and a work ethic. I take it back—you might be tolerable.”
“High praise,” Ethan said, before pivoting to the task at hand. “Now, Sebastian mentioned you’re trying to untangle Charles’s rather extensive web of offshore accounts and less-than-legal enterprises—without leaving a single trace”
“Yes,” Harper acknowledged, her expression professionally cautious. “Sebastian says you’re good with… puzzles.”
“I’m good with data no one wants found,” Ethan corrected, setting his laptop on the polished table and flipping it open.
He remained standing, unable to be still, leaning over the keyboard and practically vibrating with focused intensity.
The screen began to fill with lines of code and complex network diagrams. “More than that, I can make sure your communications are locked down tighter than a drum, and that any interaction with Sebastian, or anyone else involved in this, leaves zero digital footprint.”
Harper leaned forward. “How?”
“Secure, one-time encrypted channels for all comms,” Ethan explained, fingers already flying across his keyboard.
“Think of it as untraceable, self-destructing whispers. And for any longer-term activity, particularly if we’re accessing certain files or records from a unique location or at unusual hours, simulate normal usage, fill any ‘weird gaps’ in his digital history, and obscure what we’re actually doing.
” He glanced up at Harper, a quick, confident nod.
“You’ll be a ghost, digitally invisible. ”
“That’s amazing,” Harper said.
“I aim to please,” quipped Ethan.
Harper glanced at her stack of notes. “We’re also trying to prove a pattern of bribery, influence peddling, and illegal campaign financing funneled through shell companies that are very good at looking legitimate on the surface,” Harper clarified, watching him.
“Ah, my favorite kind of Tuesday,” Ethan murmured, fingers already flying across his keyboard.
“I did some preliminary digging yesterday. Let me show you what I found. His digital security was better than expected, I’ll give him that. Old-school paranoia meets new-school encryption. But he has a weakness.”
“Which is?” Harper leaned forward.
Ethan paused, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “He does business with other people who are exceptionally greedy and not exceptionally bright. And those people leave dirty little digital fingerprints everywhere, especially when they think no one’s looking.”
He didn’t wait for a response, already clicking through layers of encryption, his entire being locked onto the screen. It was like watching a storm condense into a lightning strike.
He then pulled up a complex flow chart on his screen. “This, for example, is one of his primary holding companies in the Caymans. Standard stuff. But dig into the financials… and you find this.”
He clicked, and a new, more convoluted diagram appeared, showing connections to a series of smaller, almost invisible entities.
“These are his ‘ghost accounts,’” Ethan explained.
“The ones that don’t officially exist. Money gets washed through three or four layers before it lands here, then it’s often converted to crypto and moved again.
But the initial transfers, the ones from his ‘legitimate’ businesses to the first shell?
Those have to be logged somewhere, even if it’s on a server in a country that barely qualifies as a country. ”
Harper studied the screen, then Ethan. “You can access them?”
“Access, decrypt, and serve them up with a digital bow,” Ethan said. “I’ve already done a preliminary sweep for Sebastian. Found a few interesting payments coinciding with specific parliamentary votes he was interested in.”
Sebastian interjected, “Ethan is the best there is at this, Harper. He can find trails that conventional investigators would miss, and he’s… discreet.”
Harper considered. She was a damn good investigative journalist, one of the best at sniffing out corruption and cultivating sources.
But deep-level digital forensics of this nature was a specialized skill.
And Hawthorne’s empire was built on decades of carefully concealed digital and financial maneuvers.
“If you’re involved, Mr. Klein,” Harper said slowly, “you understand the risks. Charles Hawthorne doesn’t take kindly to people poking into his affairs.”
Ethan’s smile was gone, replaced by a serious understanding.
“Ms. Sinclair, I spent years in the cybersecurity and threat intelligence space, I’ve made a habit of poking into the affairs of unpleasant people and sometimes governments.
It’s something of a hobby. And right now, Charlie is my new project.
” He glanced at Sebastian with a look of camaraderie.
“Consider me your pro-bono digital crowbar.”
Harper was silent for a moment. Ethan Klein was an unknown quantity—another of Sebastian’s unpredictable friends. But his demonstration was impressive, and he seemed genuine. She needed what he could offer if she was going to truly dismantle Hawthorne’s empire.
“Alright, Klein,” Harper said, a reluctant respect in her tone. “Let’s talk strategy. I have a list of specific transactions and entities I need you to trace. Everything needs to be verifiable, admissible if it ever comes to that. And absolute discretion is paramount.”
Ethan grinned, the easy confidence back. “Music to my ears. Let the games begin.”
Harper allowed herself a small, determined smile. This alliance was unorthodox, but potentially game-changing. With Ethan’s technical wizardry supplementing her investigative journalism and Sebastian’s insider knowledge, Charles Hawthorne’s secrets might not stay buried for much longer.