Chapter 2: Shadows of the Past
Thirty minutes later, Julian sat in the back of his customized van, holding the silver cylinder under a reading light. His loyal driver and bodyguard, Marcus, watched him through the rearview mirror.
"Where to, Mr. Vance?" Marcus asked.
"Dr. Finch’s private clinic on Elm Street," Julian instructed. "And don't alert the family."
Julian’s mind raced back to the night of the crash. Rain had slicked the coastal highway, but he had always been a master driver. The brakes had failed instantly, sending his car over the embankment. When he woke up in the hospital, Dr. Finch was there, comforting his young wife, Clara, and explaining that the spinal damage was irreversible. For three years, Julian had accepted his fate, focusing his energy on philanthropy and passing business operations to his younger brother, Arthur.
Now, holding the capsule, doubt began to creep in. Why would Finch carry a device marked with the seal of a black-market pharmaceutical firm?
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When they arrived at Finch’s clinic, the lights were off, save for a single lamp on the top floor. Marcus offered to carry Julian upstairs, but Julian pointed to the private elevator at the side entrance. "Stay here," Julian said. "If I'm not down in fifteen minutes, come up."
Using his security keycard—which still had access to Finch's offices—Julian made his way into the dimly lit corridor. The silence was heavy, broken only by the hum of server racks inside Finch's inner office.
