Chapter 10
Wei lowered his head slightly, feigning a moment of heavy hesitation as he processed the Warden's ultimatum. He let out a slow, deliberate sigh, allowing the illusion of defeat to settle over his shoulders. In the corrupt ecosystem of Maximum Federal, men like Vance believed that every soul had a price tag, that ultimate power always triumphed over personal integrity.
"Protection and parole," Wei murmured, keeping his voice subdued and uncertain. "And what guarantees do I have that your offshore accounts won't just swallow me whole the moment I log in?"
Warden Vance laughed softly, stepping away from the window and walking back toward his heavy mahogany desk. He picked up a sleek, encrypted tablet resting beside his gold fountain pen and tossed it casually across the polished wood surface. It slid across the desk and stopped near the edge.
"You have no guarantees, Mr. Chen, other than the fact that you're entirely at my mercy," Vance said with cold, administrative arrogance. "Log into the terminal by tonight, review the encrypted ledger database, and prove your worth. If you try to play hero or access unauthorized firewalls, the guard outside this door won't take you back to cell block four. He'll take you to the basement incinerator."
Wei reached out, his cuffed hands picking up the encrypted tablet. The screen glowed with a complex biometric login prompt requiring a master administrative key. He slipped the device into his pocket without breaking eye contact. "I'll have your first audit report ready by midnight lock-up."
"See that you do," Vance replied dismissively, waving his hand toward the heavy double doors. "Guards! Escort Mr. Chen back to his quarters."
The oak doors swung open, and the two armed guards grabbed Wei roughly by the arms, dragging him out of the luxurious office and back down into the sterile, fluorescent-lit corridors of the cell block. As they marched him past the main sanitation checkpoint, Officer Miller caught his eye for a fraction of a second. A tiny, almost imperceptible nod passed between them. The Trojan horse was now inside the citadel.
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Back in cell 408, the heavy iron door slammed shut with its familiar, jarring clang. Wei sat down on the edge of his narrow steel bunk, pulled the encrypted tablet from his pocket, and pressed the power button. The screen flickered to life, displaying a secure satellite connection routing directly through the prison's main server array.
He didn't hesitate. Swiftly and methodically, Wei bypassed the primary login using a custom decryption script he had memorized and mentally rehearsed for months. Streams of classified financial data began cascading down the screen—millions of dollars in laundered kickbacks, offshore shell companies, and explicit documentation proving Warden Vance's direct involvement in framing his family.
