Chapter 6: The Setup

The digital clock on the dashboard blinked 9:15 AM as Arthur parked his sedan three blocks away from the abandoned warehouse district downtown. The morning air was crisp, carrying the metallic scent of rust and distant river water. He pulled his dark jacket tighter around his shoulders, checking the inner pocket to ensure the encrypted flash drive was securely tucked away.
His phone buzzed violently against his thigh. He pulled it out, seeing an incoming call from an unknown restricted number. He swiped to answer, pressing the device firmly against his ear.
“You’re late,” Marcus’s cold, clipped voice echoed through the speaker.
“Traffic was bad,” Arthur replied evenly, leaning back against the driver’s seat. “I have what you want. The encrypted drive with all the corporate files. But we need to talk face-to-face. No middlemen, no threats to my family.”
A low, humorless chuckle came from the other end of the line. “You’re not in a position to negotiate terms, Arthur. You bring the drive to the loading dock of warehouse four, alone. Hand it over, and your wife and kid continue to live their quiet little suburban life.”
“I don’t trust you, Marcus,” Arthur countered sharply. “And you shouldn't trust me either. Because I know about the tracking fob your operative dropped during the break-in. I know it links directly to your personal server. If anything happens to me or my family, the data drops automatically.”
A sudden, sharp intake of breath on the other end told Arthur he had hit his mark. The calculated calm in Marcus’s voice faltered for a fraction of a second.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Arthur,” Marcus hissed, the mask of polite professionalism slipping entirely. “Bring the drive and the fob to warehouse four in twenty minutes. Come alone, or the deal is off permanently.”
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The line went dead with a harsh click. Arthur tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, his heart pounding a relentless rhythm against his ribs. He wasn't entirely alone, however. Hidden in the overhead compartment of his car was a miniature dashcam broadcasting a live video and audio feed directly to a secure legal dropbox shared with federal authorities. Every word of that conversation was already being recorded and archived.
He took a deep, steadying breath, gripped the steering wheel, and put the car into drive. It was time to end this.