Chapter 206
Rodney ignored the chaotic voices, his eyes fixed on the document. Suddenly, he understood.
This wasn't Margaret's doing. She didn't have this kind of influence, nor would she use such methods. Only a handful of people in the world could make Interpol take action over "business friction," bypassing all intermediate procedures to send him a direct inquiry.
It was Richard.
He collapsed into his chair, remembering his father's warning from many years ago: "You can offend anyone, but never touch someone who belongs to the Neville family."
---
In the Saint Lorran hotel suite, Frank hadn't slept all night. Dark circles shadowed his eyes. Since last evening, she had been unsettlingly calm.
Now, she finally closed her laptop. "Frank, come here."
Margaret turned the laptop toward them. The screen displayed not stock prices, but internal server access logs and partial screenshots of financial statements. The data was dense, almost dizzying.
"What is this?" Frank frowned.
"Access records from the company firewall, and audit reports of unusual financial transactions among executives over the past six months." Margaret pointed to rows of data highlighted in red. "One person's behavior pattern stands out."
She clicked on a name: Lorenzo Howard.
Vice President of Margaret New Energy Group, overseeing production and supply chain. A veteran who had been with her since the company's early days, one of her most trusted lieutenants.
"Mr. Howard?"
"His access to R&D servers is three times that of other production executives. Particularly in the week before the 'Dawn 3.0' data leak, he logged in seventeen times during late hours."
"Three months ago, his son's overseas education account received an anonymous transfer of $500,000. The funds came from a shell investment company registered in the Belmont Isles, backed by Rodney's FarSight Capital."
Frank's expression darkened instantly. If the access records were merely suspicious, this money trail was damning evidence.
"That treacherous bastard!" Frank's fists clenched tightly, feeling his trust violently torn apart and trampled. "I'll call him right now and fire his ass!"
"No." Margaret stopped him. Her cool eyes showed no pain of betrayal, only calculated calm. "Right now, he's our most valuable asset."
Frank froze. "Ms. Kennedy... you mean...?"
"Rodney thinks he's planted a nail in my heart," Margaret's fingertip lightly tapped Lorenzo's name. "What he doesn't realize is that this nail is about to be driven into his own coffin."
She stood and walked to the whiteboard marked "Nirvana Project."
"What does Rodney want to know most right now?" she asked.
"The Nirvana Project!" Frank and Nick answered in unison.
"Exactly. He thinks we're still fretting over the 'Dawn 3.0' blueprints. He wants to know our Plan B." Margaret picked up a marker and drew a complex molecular structure on the whiteboard. "So we'll tell him."
As she drew, she explained: "The core of the 'Nirvana Project' is a revolutionary photovoltaic material codenamed 'Hephaestus.' This material requires synthesis under extreme pressure, using rare platinum-group metals as catalysts. Its theoretical conversion efficiency is extraordinarily high, but the synthesis conditions are exceedingly demanding and the costs are astronomical."
Frank understood immediately, his breathing quickening: "Extreme pressure... platinum-group catalysts... this would require specialized synthesis facilities. The equipment and raw materials alone would cost a fortune!"
"Precisely." Margaret set down the marker and turned to face them. "So we'll let Lorenzo 'steal' this 'core secret' and deliver it, intact, to Rodney's desk."
A brilliant yet ruthless plan took shape. They would forge a flawless fake technical proposal with meticulously calculated data that appeared perfect but led down a fundamentally flawed path. They would lure Rodney into investing massive resources chasing a phantom that didn't exist.
"He has money to burn? I'll help him burn it."
That afternoon, Margaret initiated a video conference with Frank while Nick stood guard at the door, maintaining a discreet presence.
"I have some new ideas about the technical approach for the 'Nirvana Project,'" Margaret began seriously.
As she spoke, she opened an encrypted document containing the molecular structure she'd drawn that morning and an incredibly detailed technical specification filled with complex terminology and data.
"...the synthesis pressure for 'Hephaestus' crystals must remain above 150 standard atmospheres. The catalyst ratio needs adjustment—increasing the iridium to osmium proportion to 3:1. This presents a significant challenge for our existing supply chain..."
She "focused" on discussing details with Frank, moving her mouse across the screen. Then, as if intending to switch to another reference document, her finger "accidentally" swiped across the trackpad.
On screen, a folder labeled [Nirvana Project-Core Path-TOP SECRET] was "inadvertently" dragged to the shared desktop. The folder opened momentarily, revealing a more detailed file named ["Hephaestus" Synthesis Formula FINAL VERSION].
The entire sequence took less than two seconds.
Margaret, as if just realizing her mistake, flashed a look of "alarm" and hastily closed the folder, ending the screen share.
"Sorry, operator error," she cleared her throat, regaining her composure and continuing their previous discussion.
On the other end, Frank played his part perfectly: "No problem, Ms. Kennedy. Let's continue discussing the supply chain issues..."
Meanwhile, in an undisclosed location, Lorenzo was greedily watching the screen recording through his planted monitoring backdoor. His heart raced as he replayed those "accidental" two seconds over a dozen times, using screenshot software to capture the file name and folder path clearly.
[Nirvana Project-Core Path-TOP SECRET]
["Hephaestus" Synthesis Formula FINAL VERSION]
He had succeeded. He had obtained Margaret's final trump card.
He immediately encrypted and sent the screenshot along with an embellished report to Rodney's contact.
---
After the meeting ended, Margaret closed her laptop.
Frank clutched his chest in relief: "Ms. Kennedy, that 'slip' of yours deserves an Oscar! My heart nearly stopped—I actually thought you'd made a real mistake!"
Margaret calmly sipped her coffee.
The bait had been cast. Now, she only needed to wait quietly for the greedy fish to bite the hook.