PART 12:

Mercer, they told me you were coming up as a consultant now. That true? apparently. Man, that’s wild. I always figured you were just keeping your head down, you know? Didn’t realize you were like actually somebody. Noah paused at the elevator bank. I’m not somebody, Tommy. I’m just doing a different job for a while. Yeah, but consultants make bank, and Miss Cross doesn’t bring people in unless they’re serious heavy hitters.

Tommy leaned in conspiratorally. Word is you saved the whole company the other night. Fixed something none of the engineers could touch. Word travels fast. Always does in a building like this. Anyway, good for you, man. Nice to see someone get recognized. The elevator arrived. Noah stepped in, pressed 73, and watched Tommy’s face disappear as the doors closed. Recognized.

The word sat uncomfortably in his mind. He didn’t want recognition. He wanted to solve the problem, collect his paycheck, and get back to the life he’d carefully constructed away from people who knew his name. But as the elevator climbed, Noah admitted to himself that something had shifted.

Yesterday, walking into that server room, feeling his hands move across keyboards with the old confidence, seeing the system respond to his commands, it had awakened something he’d been trying to keep dormant. Not ambition exactly, something quieter and more dangerous. Purpose. The elevator opened onto the executive level.

Marcus stood waiting, tablet in hand, looking like he’d already been working for hours. Noah, good morning. Evelyn’s in a meeting with legal, but she wanted me to get you started on the security audit. We’ve set you up in one of the conference rooms with full system access, and I need to see the physical security first, Noah interrupted.

Server rooms, access points, employee entry protocols. Digital security means nothing if someone can walk in with a USB drive and bypass everything. Marcus blinked. Oh, right. That makes sense. Follow me. They spent the next two hours walking through Croste security infrastructure, or what passed for it.

Noah said very little, just observed, made notes on his phone, and felt his assessment of the company’s vulnerabilities growing more alarming by the minute. The server room had biometric locks, but the maintenance access used standard keys that probably 20 people had copies of. The badge system logged entries, but nobody actually monitored the logs in real time.

The backup generators had security cameras pointed at them. But the cameras themselves were on the same network as everything else, meaning anyone who compromised the digital systems could disable physical surveillance. This is bad, Noah said finally, standing in the server room where he’d worked two nights ago. This is really bad. What do you mean? We have top tier security.

Cost us 3 million to install. You have expensive security theater, but actual security requires integration, redundancy, and constant monitoring. You’ve got pieces of a system that don’t talk to each other, protocols that assume good faith actors, and blind spots you could drive a truck through. Noah pulled up the access logs on his phone.

Marcus had given him administrative credentials that morning. Look at this. In the past week, you’ve had 47 instances of employees badging in after hours with no corresponding work authorization. Could be legitimate. Could also be someone using a copied badge to access systems when nobody’s watching. You think we have another David Brennan? I think you have the conditions that create David Brennan’s people with access they don’t need, systems that aren’t properly monitored, and a culture that prioritizes convenience over security. Noah looked at Marcus

directly. How many people in this building could do what Brennan did if they wanted to? Marcus was quiet for a long moment. I don’t know. Neither do I. Which is exactly the problem. They were walking back toward the elevators when Noah’s phone buzzed. Text from an unknown number. Captain Mercer, it’s been a long time.

Congratulations on your new position. Let’s hope you’re as good at corporate security as you were at keeping our operations secret. V Noah stopped walking. Marcus, a few steps ahead, turned back. Everything okay? Yeah, just need to make a call. Give me a minute. Sure, I’ll be in the main conference room when you’re ready. Marcus disappeared around the corner.

Noah stood in the empty hallway, staring at the message, feeling ice water spread through his chest. V. Victoria Stern. Colonel Victoria Stern, who’d run black operations across three continents and knew more about Noah’s classified service record than anyone currently breathing. She’d been his commanding officer during the worst deployments, the ones that officially never happened.

The operations that carried consequences measured in dead bodies and international incidents. He hadn’t heard from her in 4 years. Noah stepped into an empty office, closed the door, and called the number. It rang twice. Captain Mercer. Victoria’s voice was exactly as he remembered, crisp, controlled, the kind of voice that gave orders during artillery fire and expected them to be followed.

Or should I say, Mr. Mercer, now I understand you’ve retired from the interesting work. Colonel Stern, how did you get this number? Please, you know better than to ask questions like that. He could hear the smile in her voice. I’ve been keeping tabs on you, Noah, making sure civilian life was treating you well.

👉 [Tap here for the Next Part ] 👈