Chapter 4 - The Invitation
Two days later, the trap was set.
Nathan formally requested an urgent meeting with Victor Lang, CEO of StrideCore Medical, claiming he was ready to sign an extended maintenance and data-sharing contract for the X9 unit. Smelling a multi-million-dollar deal and eager to neutralize a potential whistleblower, Victor agreed to fly down to Norfolk personally, bringing along their chief legal counsel and head of engineering.
They arrived at the Brooks home on a crisp Thursday afternoon. This time, there were no casual greetings.
Victor stepped out of his black sedan wearing an immaculate navy suit, flanked by two attorneys carrying leather briefcases and Chief Engineer Marcus Vance, a nervous-looking man clutching a diagnostic tablet.
Nathan met them on the front porch. I stood just inside the doorway, holding a secure flash drive and a certified copy of the EEPROM data dump, while Owen was safely upstairs with a trusted neighbor.
"Admiral Brooks," Victor smiled smoothly, extending a manicured hand. "I’m glad to see you’ve reconsidered our position. A technology as advanced as the X9 requires partnership, not hostility."
Nathan did not take his hand. He simply looked at Victor with the chilling detachment of a commanding officer inspecting a court-martial subject.
"Step inside, Mr. Lang."
The corporate executives walked into the spacious living room, looking around with proprietary satisfaction, as if appraising a showroom. Victor took a seat on the leather sofa, crossing his legs comfortably.
"Now, regarding the extended service agreement—" Victor began.
"There is no agreement," Nathan interrupted, his voice cutting through the room like a razor.
Victor’s smile faltered slightly. "Excuse me?"
Nathan walked over to the side table, picked up a remote, and clicked a button. A large wall-mounted television screen flickered to life, displaying Dr. Aris Thorne’s signed affidavit, complete with structural schematics, material stress test failures, and the exact hex-code logs showing remote server tampering from StrideCore’s Austin headquarters.
Marcus Vance, the chief engineer, turned pale. He stared at the screen, his breath catching in his throat.
"What is this?" Victor demanded, his voice losing its polished warmth, replaced by a sharp, defensive edge. "This is proprietary corporate data. Where did you get this?"
"You left your back door open, Mr. Lang," I said, stepping forward from the hallway. "When your technician plugged into the knee actuator last week, he didn't wipe the local cache. We pulled the raw EEPROM memory. We have every unedited error log since day one. And we have the internal memo from your materials engineer warning you that the carbon composite housing was defective."
Victor’s eyes darted between Nathan and me. For a second, panic flickered behind his expensive facade, quickly replaced by calculated arrogance.
"You hacked our proprietary hardware," Victor said, pointing a finger. "That is a direct violation of the federal Computer Fraud and Abuse Act, not to mention your binding non-disclosure agreement. We can have you both arrested within the hour."
Nathan didn’t flinch. He walked slowly toward the sofa until he was standing directly over the CEO, towering over him with decades of military authority.
"You sold a defective, dangerous medical device to a grieving father for four hundred thousand dollars," Nathan said, his voice dropping to a low, menacing register. "Your machine locked up and nearly broke my nine-year-old son's neck four separate times. Then your company hacked into our home network to alter the diagnostic logs and cover your tracks."
Nathan leaned down, bringing his face inches from Victor’s.
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"I spent thirty years defending this country against foreign enemies, Mr. Lang. I have friends at the Department of Justice, contacts on the Senate Armed Services Committee, and a direct line to the FDA’s commissioner of medical device safety. You have two choices."
Victor swallowed hard, sweat beading on his forehead. "What choices?"
