Chapter 34 The First Sabotage
Julian arrived at the Administrative Annex data hub at 1:17 AM. He looked exhausted, his immaculate suit slightly rumpled, a visual testament to the chaos Rhys had spent the evening trying to contain. He didn't offer a greeting, just slid a thin, military-grade tablet across the metal table.
"These are the Layer 1 investigation keys. " Julian said, his voice clipped and cold. "They grant you the access you requested to circumvent the corporate firewall and analyze the symbolic data. You are now responsible for the integrity of that investigation."
He paused, leaning in, his expression shifting from professional exhaustion to genuine concern. "This is not a game, Ellie. The humiliation you caused him tonight is secondary to the security risk. He genuinely believes Phoenix Engineering will target you to get to the Apex IP. He is watching every packet you send. Do not, under any circumstances, try to leave the secured property perimeter."
"Duly noted," I replied, ignoring the implicit warning about my behavior. I focused on the tablet. "Thank you, Julian."
As soon as he left, I plugged the tablet into the hub's main terminal. I didn't waste a second searching for high-level data; I jumped straight into the metadata analysis of the deepfake's delivery system.
Rhys was right about one thing: the attack wasn't just digital.
Within minutes, I confirmed that the primary goal of the Phoenix Engineering campaign was not data theft, but pre-race sabotage. The symbolic signatures weren't targeting Rhys's computers; they were embedded within a specific firmware update related to our primary qualifying vehicle—Kian Hayes's car. The hack wasn't designed to steal data, but to subtly corrupt a sensor calibration, causing a critical failure during the final race.
I looked at the clock: 1:45 AM. The team engineers would start their final checks in a few hours. The threat was immediate and physical, requiring eyes on the ground. Confined to the Administrative Annex, I was useless.
There was only one person I could trust to execute a physical check without alerting Rhys's core security team.
I pulled out the secure messenger app and typed a short, cryptic message, targeting Kian's personal, untraceable number:
Ellie: URGENT. Primary car firmware compromised. Need discrete calibration check on the rear axial sensor of Q1 vehicle. 2AM, Garage 4. Do not acknowledge.
Kian replied instantly with a thumbs up emoji .
I bypassed the perimeter security with ease and made the short, tense walk through the administrative backlots to the main paddock complex. Garage 4 was dark. Kian was already there, waiting in the shadows between two haulers.
"Doc," Kian whispered, a grin breaking across his face. "I figured you’d be too smart to stay in that gilded cage. What did Big B do, send you to the tower?"
"The situation is serious, Kian. Less chatter," I urged, moving toward the car. "Phoenix isn't after data. They inserted a flaw into the axial sensor firmware during the last upload. If we don't recalibrate it now, the car fails on track."
Kian’s face sobered immediately, but his eyes still held a sparkle of mischief. "A flaw designed by a corporate suit, eh? Sounds like they didn't account for a few late-night heroes. You know, I always work better when there's someone clever looking over my shoulder."
"Focus," I warned, feeling a traitorous warmth rise in my cheeks at the easy intimacy of his compliment. "This isn't clever; this is high risk."
"High risk is my specialty, Ellie," he replied, his voice dropping an octave as he stepped closer, his shadow falling over mine. "Especially when the reward is getting to collaborate with the one person who actually understands what's happening around here." He paused, his gaze sweeping over my face. "You look good, by the way. Better than you did fighting off the boss earlier."
"That was possessive contempt, not a fight," I corrected sharply, retreating slightly but maintaining my professional stance. "And I'm still under the microscope. Let's do this."
"Contempt, huh?" Kian mused, shaking his head as he moved to lift the maintenance panel over the rear axle. "Sounds like the man's got problems he can't solve with a spreadsheet."
"He has no problems," I countered, forcing cold authority into my voice. "He has protocols. Let's do it."
I was just leaning in to attach my diagnostic cable when my secure tablet went absolutely ballistic.
A siren noise, loud enough to cut through the heavy silence of the paddock, blared from the tablet's internal speaker. Simultaneously, every single digital screen in the nearby garages, including Kian's personal comm-link, lit up with a huge, flashing red alert banner:
🚨 APEX SECURITY PROTOCOL: CODE RED DRILL INITIATED. ALL NON-ESSENTIAL PERSONNEL MUST REPORT TO DESIGNATED SAFETY ZONE BETA IMMEDIATELY. NO EXCEPTIONS. 🚨
Kian slammed the panel shut, looking wildly around the deserted paddock. "What the hell? We never run Code Red drills at 2 AM! This is insane."
My own secure tablet flashed with a new, private text message. It wasn't signed, but the command was unmistakable:
Rhys Vance: Stay put, Dr. Winslow. The drill is now paramount. I warned you about collaboration.
My blood turned to ice. It wasn't a genuine threat; I knew Rhys hadn't detected a security breach. This was a digital lockdown. Rhys had just used a global, mandatory corporate security drill as a means of professional sabotage to sever my meeting with Kian.
"I have to go," Kian said, his voice laced with confusion and frustration. "If I don't report, the team gets fined, and I get benched. This is the oldest trick in the book. He's doing this on purpose." He looked from the blaring screen to me, his jaw tight. "He really doesn't want me talking to you, does he?"
"Comply," I ordered, pushing the word out through gritted teeth. "Go. Now."
He sprinted away toward the main operations tent, furious and compliant.
I was left alone in the dark, silent garage, the digital alarm still flashing red on the tablet. Rhys hadn't physically placed himself between us, but he had done something far more effective: he had used his ultimate professional authority to build a digital wall, making my collaboration with any perceived rival impossible.
My victory for autonomy had lasted less than two hours. Rhys was watching, and the investigation had just become a battlefield for his resentment.