Chapter 5
The hum of the portable scanner filled the quiet archive room as Mrs. Gable fed page after page of confidential medical trials into the machine. Clara stood beside her, watching the progress bar crawl slowly across the laptop screen. Every percentage point represented a step closer to exposing the truth, but it also brought them closer to detection. Victoria’s security network operated on advanced algorithms capable of tracking unauthorized data transfers across municipal lines.
"We have to route the upload through an encrypted peer-to-peer network," Clara said, her fingers dancing nervously across the keyboard. "If we send this directly to the federal oversight committee's public portal, their corporate firewall will intercept and wipe the packets before they clear the local gateway."
"Use the old press room terminal," Mrs. Gable suggested, pointing toward a dusty corridor at the back of the basement. "That terminal operates on an independent analog line that was grandfathered into the city’s utility charter back in the nineteen-eighties. Their modern algorithms can't touch it."
Clara grabbed the external hard drive containing the scanned files and followed the archivist down the dim hallway. The press room was a relic of a bygone era, dominated by a massive oak desk, an ancient rotary telephone, and a heavy cathode-ray tube monitor that flickered with a dull green phosphor glow. Clara sat down in the squeaky swivel chair, plugged the drive into a bulky adapter, and began executing the command sequences she had memorized during her years as a corporate data analyst.
As the lines of code scrolled across the screen, the door at the end of the hallway rattled violently.
"They found us," Clara whispered, her heart skipping a beat.
"Keep typing," Mrs. Gable ordered, stepping calmly toward the heavy oak door and sliding a steel security bar across its brackets just as heavy blows rained down against the wood. "I’ll buy you as much time as I can."
Clara’s fingers flew across the keyboard. The transfer progress bar hit ninety-eight percent, then ninety-nine. Outside the door, shouting echoed through the corridor—Miller’s harsh voice demanding that the door be opened immediately. With a deafening crash, the heavy wood splintered as the security enforcers slammed their weight against the barrier.
On the screen, the final notification flashed in bright green letters: Upload Complete.
May you like
Clara ripped the flash drive from the port just as the door burst inward, sending splinters flying across the room. Mrs. Gable stood bravely in front of the desk, but she was gently shoved aside by Miller, whose broad frame filled the doorway. His eyes locked instantly onto Clara, who sat frozen in the swivel chair, clutching the drive tightly in her hand.
"End of the line, Clara," Miller said coldly, stepping into the room with a heavy, deliberate stride. "Hand over the drive, and maybe we can still negotiate a quiet exit for you."
