Chapter 4 - The Name on the Screen
The basement tunnel smelled like wet stone and old flour.
Daniel could barely stand, but the idea of Marcus taking his company did something pain medicine could not. It put fire back into his eyes.
"We need internet access," he said.
"You need stitches."
"Both can be true."
I shifted Theo higher against my shoulder. "You are not going anywhere if you pass out again."
Daniel looked toward the tunnel. "There's a secure line at Reed Global that only I can activate. If I get a signal, I can lock Marcus out of the voting system."
"And if Marcus has people in the police, corporate security, and apparently everywhere else?"
"Then I make them show themselves."
"That sounds like something rich people say before ordinary people get hurt."
He flinched, and I knew the sentence landed harder than I intended.
"You're right," he said.
The admission took the fight out of me for a second.
"What?"
"You're right. I spent years assuming I could solve danger by taking control of the room. Tonight proved otherwise."
He looked at the babies.
"I need help."
It was not a sentence he seemed practiced at saying.
I thought about Leo upstairs. About the men searching the diner. About the fact that helping Daniel had already put people I cared about in danger.
"First," I said, "we get to the bakery next door. Second, I check your wound again. Third, you tell me enough truth that I can decide whether I'm saving a decent man or an extremely expensive disaster."
"Fair."
The old tunnel ended beneath a boarded bakery Ali's father had once owned. I pushed open a hatch behind what used to be a storage counter. The space smelled like dust and cinnamon trapped in the walls.
I found an office with one working outlet and an ancient landline jack. The twins were hungry again. Daniel tried to make a bottle with one hand and spilled formula powder across his trousers.
I took the container from him.
"CEO skills not transferring?"
"I usually have a system."
"Your system is currently bleeding on itself."
He sat on the floor while I fed Evie. Theo accepted the bottle from Daniel with much more patience than his sister showed me. For several minutes, the crisis narrowed to two babies swallowing milk in a dark abandoned bakery.
It felt absurdly peaceful.
Then Daniel's secure phone turned on.
He connected it to a battered router I found beneath the desk and entered a string of codes too quickly for me to follow.
A video feed appeared.
A conference room filled the tiny screen.
I recognized the Reed Global logo from downtown billboards. Twelve men and women sat around a black glass table. At the far end stood a tall man with silver at his temples and the kind of smile that had probably closed a thousand deals.
Marcus Vale.
"That's him?" I whispered.
Daniel nodded.
Marcus was speaking.
"Daniel suffered a serious personal crisis tonight. Out of respect for his family, I won't discuss details. He has authorized me to assume temporary control until he is medically cleared."
A letter appeared on a wall screen behind him.
Daniel's signature was at the bottom.
"That's forged," Daniel said.
"Can they tell?"
"They don't want to tell. That's different."
His bitterness sounded old.
A board member asked whether Daniel had been contacted directly.
Marcus folded his hands.
"Mr. Reed is unavailable. His counsel has confirmed his desire for privacy."
Daniel made a cold sound.
"My counsel is sitting in London."
I looked at him. "Can you interrupt?"
"Not yet. The meeting authentication runs through the corporate network. Marcus has changed the access keys."
"You said you had a secure line."
"I do. But I need an internal connection point."
I thought of Ali's.
"The diner has fiber."
Daniel stared at me.
"What?"
"Ali's landlord upgraded the block last year. The router is above the kitchen ceiling because the manager hates exposed cables."
"Can we get back inside?"
"Through the tunnel."
"Marcus's men are there."
"Probably not for long. Leo told them there was security footage. If he convinced them you left, they may move on."
Daniel shook his head. "Too dangerous."
"You dragged your children through a rainstorm while bleeding because you thought it was safer than surrendering. Don't start pretending you suddenly enjoy caution."
He gave me a look.
"I mean dangerous for you."
I felt something change in the room.
All night, he had treated me like a useful stranger. Now the concern in his voice was personal.
"I decide what's dangerous for me," I said.
"I know."
That answer mattered.
We waited fifteen minutes. Then I returned through the tunnel alone.
Ali's basement was empty. Upstairs, Leo was arguing with someone on the phone.
"No, Officer, I told you, three men entered after closing and threatened me. Yes, I want a report. No, I don't care who they said they worked for."
I climbed the stairs.
Leo nearly swung a frying pan at my head.
"Jesus, Anna!"
"Quiet."
His face changed. "You're alive."
"Mostly."
He looked behind me. "The guy?"
"Alive. Babies too."
Leo sat down hard on a milk crate.
"Those men had guns."
"I know."
"Who is he?"
I hesitated.
"Daniel Reed."
Leo stared.
Then he laughed once, without humor.
"Of course. Why couldn't you bring home a normal bleeding idiot?"
"I need the router."
"Naturally."
Five minutes later, Daniel was sitting in the pantry again, the twins beside him, while I stood on flour sacks and pulled down a ceiling tile.
"Blue cable," he said.
"There are five blue cables."
"The one with the gray stripe."
"You could have led with that."
I connected his device.
The board meeting feed sharpened.
Marcus was calling for a vote.
Daniel entered a code.
Nothing.
He entered another.
The screen flashed red.
"He revoked my executive certificate."
"Can he do that?"
"Temporarily."
"Then what's the billionaire backup plan?"
Daniel looked at the ceiling.
"The founder key."
"That sounds annoyingly dramatic."
"My father insisted."
He removed a small metal token from beneath the lining of his watchband.
"If I activate it, every board terminal has to accept my identity directly."
"Why haven't you done that already?"
"Because it also alerts every senior security officer to my location."
We both looked toward the back door.
"So Marcus finds us."
"Yes."
"How long do we need?"
"Three minutes."
I thought of the alley. Of the babies. Of Leo's terrified face.
"Do it."
Daniel inserted the token.
The diner router lights flickered.
On the boardroom screen, Marcus stopped speaking.
A red banner appeared behind him.
FOUNDER AUTHENTICATION REQUEST.
Daniel touched the camera icon.
His face appeared on every boardroom monitor.
Bloody shirt. Pale skin. Flour dust on his coat.
Marcus looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"Good morning," Daniel said.
May you like
His voice was weak, but it carried.
"Before anyone votes on my resignation, perhaps you'd like to hear from the man who supposedly signed it."
