Chapter 12 - The Prison Screen
The secure terminal screen flickered to life, illuminating the small, sterile concrete holding cell where Arthur sat wearing an orange jumpsuit.
His hair was uncombed, and the arrogant, polished demeanor he had worn at the wedding reception had completely vanished, replaced by a desperate, cunning edge.
Clara sat down in front of the camera terminal, while Eleanor stood directly behind her shoulder, watching the screen with a tense, unblinking stare.
“Cut the dramatics, Arthur,” Clara stated flatly into the microphone.
“We know about the secondary shell corporation in the British Virgin Islands. You don't have any leverage left.”
Arthur leaned closer to the prison camera, a faint, unsettling smile touching the corners of his mouth.
“Do you really think I was stupid enough to keep the master encryption keys to those patents in an offshore account that the federal government could easily seize?” Arthur asked, his voice raspy through the speakers.
“I am many things, Clara, but I am not an amateur.”
Clara kept her expression completely neutral, refusing to let him see any sign of frustration.
“If you don't surrender the keys voluntarily, the federal prosecutors will tack on another twenty years of obstruction charges to your sentence,” Clara warned.
“You will die in a maximum-security federal penitentiary.”
Arthur let out a low, gravelly chuckle that echoed through the small consultation booth.
“Let them try,” Arthur sneered.
“Because those patents are programmed to self-destruct and wipe all clinical data from the secure servers if a legal override isn't executed by midnight tonight.”
Eleanor gasped, stepping forward and gripping the edge of the metal terminal desk.
“Are you out of your mind, Arthur?” Eleanor shouted at the screen.
“That data represents years of medical research! It could save thousands of lives!”
“It represents my only insurance policy against a life behind bars,” Arthur countered coldly, his eyes fixed entirely on Clara through the lens.
“If I go down, I am taking your entire life's work right down into the abyss with me, Clara.”
Clara stared at the pixelated face of the man on the screen, her mind racing as she calculated every possible legal, technical, and tactical countermeasure.
“You are bluffing,” Clara said steadily.
“A self-destruct protocol of that scale requires multi-factor biometric authorization from both board directors.”
Arthur tapped his temple with a chained finger, smiling triumphantly.
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“Guess who updated the biometric parameters on the primary server during yesterday afternoon’s rehearsal dinner?”
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