Chapter 4 - The Twentieth Floor
Valente Tower at 8:10 p.m. was a monument of dark glass and silent steel.
The main lobby was completely empty, the grand gala guests having all moved to the top-floor ballroom or returned home after Matteo’s unexpected disappearance. The single security guard on duty at the front desk was a young man named Marcus, whom Matteo had personally hired two years ago.
Matteo pulled the Maybach directly into the VIP loading zone, bypassing the subterranean garage. He walked into the lobby with Elena right behind him, his suit jacket draped over her shoulders.
Marcus stood up immediately. "Mr. Valente! Is everything alright? Security dispatch said—"
"Marcus," Matteo interrupted, placing both hands flat on the marble desk. "Disable the elevators to the twentieth floor for all master keys except mine. Clear the main security console and turn off the internal hallway cameras for Floor 20."
Marcus blinked, stunned. "Sir? That's against standard corporate protocol—"
"Do it now, Marcus," Matteo said, his grey eyes locking onto the young man with absolute authority. "And if anyone asks if I'm in the building—including Dr. Mercer or my own security detail—you tell them you haven't seen me since seven o'clock."
Marcus looked at Elena's terrified face, swallowed hard, and pressed a series of override switches on his digital console. "Floor 20 cameras are dark, sir. Elevator three is locked to your biometric pass."
"Good man," Matteo said.
They took elevator three directly to the twentieth floor.
The doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a long, dimly lit corridor lined with brushed-steel panels. The air here was freezing, chilled by industrial cooling units designed to protect thousands of high-density server racks.
Elena walked quickly beside Matteo, her leather boots squeaking against the polished concrete floor.
"The server rooms are locked with double-factor biometric scanners," Elena whispered. "Gabriel couldn't have gotten inside without a master key."
"He didn't need to get inside the server rack itself," Matteo said, walking toward the end of the corridor where the main utility access doors were situated. "A hospital resident knows how infrastructure works. Fire suppression systems, emergency oxygen lines, water filtration."
He stopped in front of a metal door marked: AUXILIARY WATER FILTRATION — MAINTENANCE ONLY.
Matteo pulled his master keycard, swiped it through the reader, and pushed the door open.
The room was filled with the deafening roar of high-pressure pumps and massive steel water tanks supplying the upper floors of the skyscraper. The air smelled of chlorine and copper.
Matteo swept his flashlight across the complex network of PVC pipes and electrical conduits.
"Search the junction boxes," he ordered.
Elena dropped to her knees, her hands frantically checking behind the blue water filters and steel mounting brackets. Her fingers were trembling so violently she could barely feel the cold metal.
"Eight minutes left, Matteo," she gasped, her voice choked with tears. "If we don't find it—"
"We'll find it," Matteo said, his voice completely level as he reached behind the main pressure regulation tank.
His fingers brushed against a small, rectangular object taped to the back of a copper ground wire using black surgical tape.
Matteo ripped the tape free.
In his hand lay a heavy, brushed-titanium flash drive labeled with a laser-etched insignia: STV-LAZARUS-01.
"Got it," Matteo whispered.
Before Elena could stand up, a shadow fell across the open doorway of the utility room.
A man stepped into the light. He was wearing a dark suit, a red tie, and a Valente Tower security badge pinned to his lapel. In his right hand, he held a suppressed 9mm pistol pointed directly at Matteo’s chest.
It was Vance—Frank Vance, Matteo’s head of personal security, the man who had guarded Matteo's father for twenty years.
"I hoped you wouldn't find that so quickly, Matteo," Frank Vance said, his voice heavy with a strange, tragic disappointment. "It would have made my job much easier if you had just let Mercer handle the girl."
Elena froze on the floor, her breath catching in her throat.
Matteo slowly straightened up, holding the titanium flash drive between his thumb and forefinger. His expression didn't change. Not a single muscle in his face twitched.
"Frank," Matteo said softly. "My father paid off your daughter's medical bills in 2012. He gave you a house in Lake Forest."
"Your father is dead, Matteo!" Frank snapped, his finger tightening on the trigger of the suppressed pistol. "And Daniel Mercer runs things in this city that make the Valente family look like street vendors! Mercer offered me ten million dollars and a seat on the board of Vance Logistics if I delivered that drive tonight."
"Ten million dollars," Matteo repeated, taking a half-step forward. "You sold twenty years of loyalty for ten million dollars?"
"Don't move!" Frank barked, raising the gun until the sights were aligned with Matteo’s forehead. "Give me the drive, Matteo. Right now. Or I put a bullet through Dr. Russo’s head, take the drive from your corpse, and tell the police Mercer's men broke in."
Matteo looked down at the flash drive in his hand, then raised his eyes to look Frank Vance directly in the face.
"You made one mistake, Frank," Matteo said quietly.
Frank's eyes narrowed. "What's that?"
"You forgot who built this building."
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Matteo's left hand slammed against the red emergency fire-suppression button on the wall behind him.
Instantly, a deafening 120-decibel alarm shattered the room, and thick, high-pressure carbon dioxide gas exploded from the overhead nozzles in a blinding, freezing cloud of white mist.
