Chapter 3 - The Master Control RoomThe audio-visual control room of the Richmond Grand Hotel looked like the bridge of a nuclear submarine. Rows of glowing monitors displayed live camera feeds from inside the grand ballroom, while soundboards, digital projectors, and network routers hummed with quiet, steady energy.
A lone technician sat in a swivel chair, eating a slice of pepperoni pizza while monitoring the live microphone feed from the stage, where Arthur Sterling was just beginning his introduction.
Click.
The heavy metal door of the control room swung open.
The technician turned around, wiping grease from his mouth with a napkin. "Hey, you can't be in here. This is a restricted zone. The gala feed is—"
He stopped dead.
Ava stood in the doorway, her charcoal wool coat still buttoned to her chin, her eyes cold and piercing. Before the technician could stand up, Ava stepped inside, pulled a sleek, heavy-duty USB drive from her pocket, and walked straight toward the master broadcast server rack.
"Ma'am, seriously, I’m going to have to call security—"
"If you call security," Ava said without turning around, her fingers flying over the server interface, "your company’s entire network traffic log will be flagged for federal seizure before you can finish swallowing that pizza."
She plugged the USB drive into the master routing port.
A cascade of emerald-green command lines cascaded down the primary monitor, bypassing the hotel’s firewall and establishing a direct, encrypted bridge to the main projection screens hanging directly above the ballroom stage.
"What are you doing?" the technician stammered, scrambling out of his chair. "Those are the presentation feeds for Sterling Global! If you corrupt the board announcement—"
"I’m not corrupting anything," Ava said calmly, her hands moving with terrifying speed. "I’m simply upgrading their visual aids."
On the monitor before her, a split-screen appeared. On the left side was the live feed of the ballroom: Ethan Cole standing proudly beside Arthur Sterling, flashing his trademark million-dollar smile as the crowd applauded. On the right side was a meticulously organized, unredacted financial ledger titled: Sterling Global Internal R&D Embezzlement & Shell Company Routing - 2023-2026.
Every offshore account. Every falsified tax filing. Every illegal wire transfer signed off by Arthur Sterling and routed through dummy corporations in the Cayman Islands—including the specific subsidiary account managed by Ethan Cole.
Ava locked the routing protocol, hit the override enter key, and set a thirty-second countdown timer.
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"Enjoy the show," she murmured to the pale, shaking technician.
She turned on her heel, walked out of the control room, and headed down the carpeted hallway toward the heavy double doors leading directly into the back of the grand ballroom.
