Chapter 4 - THE BACKUP SERVER
Mason was alive.
The bullet had struck the metal flashlight clipped to his belt, throwing him to the ground. Captain Ortiz dragged him behind a stone planter while officers ran toward the greenhouse.
A black SUV smashed through a service gate and vanished down the private road.
“Inside job,” Ortiz muttered.
Mason’s hands shook, but he forced himself upright. “The server. They’ll destroy it.”
The wine cellar sat beneath the oldest section of the estate, away from the main fire. Evelyn, Ortiz, Mason, and two firefighters entered through a garden hatch.
The cellar smelled of smoke and wet stone. Behind a rack of expensive Bordeaux, Mason pressed a hidden switch. A steel panel opened, revealing a small climate-controlled room filled with blinking drives.
Daniel Whitmore’s backup system had survived.
Mason connected a monitor. Video files appeared by date and room.
They opened the recording from Noah’s bedroom.
At 8:41 p.m., Victoria entered with Grant and Charles.
Noah was reading.
Victoria held the blue folder.
“You were never supposed to find this,” she told him.
Noah looked frightened but steady. “Dad wanted me to have it.”
Charles said, “Your father was sentimental. Sentiment destroys companies.”
Grant removed Noah’s wheelchair from the room.
Victoria buckled the leather restraint around him.
Noah began shouting.
Then Charles leaned close to his grandson. “The fire will be called an accident. Your death will be called a tragedy. And the company will remain in capable hands.”
Ortiz froze the video.
Nobody spoke.
Evelyn felt something inside her harden.
“Play the rest,” she said.
The recording showed them leaving. Minutes later, Grant returned carrying a red fuel can and a remote timer.
But just before he exited, another figure entered the frame.
It was Daniel Whitmore.
Impossible.
Noah’s father had been dead for six years.
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The man wore Daniel’s face, Daniel’s posture, even Daniel’s gold signet ring.
He looked directly into the hidden camera and said, “If Noah dies tonight, release everything.”
