CHAPTER 8: THE PSYCHOLOGY OF POWER
Toby did not run toward the edge. He did not cry for help. He walked deliberately to the master console, placing his hand over the biometric sensor.
"You won't shoot me, Commander Crane," Toby said, his voice carrying clearly over the howling wind. "My biometric sequence is the only key that unlocks the Aegis server. Dead, I'm just a liability."
Crane stepped closer, the cold steel of his weapon leveled at Toby’s forehead. "You're smart, kid. But pain is a very effective motivator. You'll unlock it once I start breaking fingers."
Toby tilted his head, observing Crane’s dilated pupils and shallow breathing. "You're dying, aren't you?"
Crane’s jaw tightened.
"Stage-four glioblastoma," Toby deduced, reading the slight tremor in Crane's left hand and the asymmetric muscle tone in his jaw. "You took this hundred-million-dollar syndicate bounty not for power, but to leave an untouchable trust fund for your estranged sister's children in Boston."
Crane's finger hesitated on the trigger. "Shut up."
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"You want to be remembered as a provider," Toby said, his tone softening with pure human compassion. "Not a monster."
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