CHAPTER 5 — The Witness They Never Counted
CHAPTER 5 — The Witness They Never Counted
Arthur Montgomery did not surrender quietly.
As two federal agents stepped toward him, he straightened his jacket, adjusted his cufflinks, and smiled with the confidence of a man who had escaped consequences his entire life.
"You've made a terrible mistake," he said.
Special Agent Elena Brooks didn't blink.
"I hear that almost every week."
Arthur nodded toward the laptop.
"Those files are inadmissible. The chain of custody is compromised."
Leila Haddad answered before Brooks could.
"The flash drive fell onto the floor during a private business meeting witnessed by fourteen people. Mr. Al-Mansour immediately secured it without alteration. Every second since has been recorded."
Arthur's smile weakened.
Preston Vale looked as though he might faint.
One of the agents approached him.
"Mr. Vale, we'd like you to remain available for questioning."
"I... I'd like my attorney."
"Of course."
His voice cracked.
"I haven't done anything."
Nobody believed him.
Shaina stood near the doorway, almost forgotten again.
That was familiar.
People remembered her only when they needed someone to blame.
Gregor quietly walked over.
"I... I fired you."
His voice barely rose above a whisper.
"I'm sorry."
Shaina managed a tired smile.
"You were trying to protect the restaurant."
"I was trying to protect myself."
Gregor looked ashamed.
"I should've listened."
Before Shaina could answer, Karim approached.
The room instinctively made space for him.
He stopped in front of her.
"What is your full name?"
"Shaina Marie Bennett."
"You learned Arabic from your father?"
"Yes."
"What did he do?"
"He worked as a cultural liaison."
Karim nodded thoughtfully.
"He taught you well."
For the first time that evening, Shaina felt emotion rising in her throat.
"My father used to say that language is where trust lives."
Karim smiled sadly.
"He was right."
Meanwhile, Agent Brooks continued examining the recovered files.
Her team uncovered spreadsheets listing dozens of international transactions.
Some were marked with coded initials.
Others carried names.
Companies.
Government agencies.
Private investment funds.
One accountant suddenly froze.
"Agent Brooks..."
She walked over.
"What?"
He pointed to a payment schedule.
The document listed millions of dollars transferred to consulting firms that existed only on paper.
Shell corporations.
One after another.
Then came the final page.
A heading.
PROJECT FALCON
Below it was a list of future acquisition targets.
Countries.
Ports.
Energy grids.
Transportation networks.
Each target carried a handwritten note.
Repeat Arabic strategy.
The room became deathly quiet.
Leila slowly closed the folder.
"This wasn't one fraud."
She looked directly at Brooks.
"It was a business model."
Brooks nodded grimly.
"And if these documents are authentic..."
She looked toward Arthur.
"...there are going to be arrests in more than one country."
Arthur's confidence finally cracked.
"You don't understand."
"No," Brooks replied calmly.
"I think I do."
As agents photographed every document, another discovery emerged.
One investigator recovered deleted voicemail recordings from the flash drive.
Most were routine.
Until the final recording.
A woman's frightened voice filled the room.
"If anyone finds this... my name is Nadia Rahman. I translated the first draft of the agreement. They changed my work after I submitted it. When I refused to certify the new version, they threatened my family. If something happens to me..."
The recording ended abruptly.
Silence.
Shaina felt chills race down her arms.
Leila whispered,
"So there was another translator."
Brooks turned sharply toward her team.
"Find her."
One analyst typed rapidly.
A minute later he looked up.
"No recent public records."
Another searched immigration databases.
Nothing.
Brooks frowned.
"Either she's hiding..."
"...or someone made sure she disappeared."
Arthur stared at the floor.
May you like
He no longer looked like the man who had entered the restaurant.
He looked like someone calculating how many years a prison sentence might last.
