Chapter 3 - The Woman on the Security Tape
They escaped through an old service tunnel that connected the mansion to a neighboring property.
Rachel had no idea such a tunnel existed.
Apparently, Adrien had no idea either.
That detail bothered him more than the armed men.
They emerged near a wooded section of the property shortly before dawn.
Tomas met them with a vehicle.
Adrien got inside.
Rachel remained standing.
“I’m not going back.”
Adrien looked at her.
“To your place?”
“To yours.”
“You don't have to.”
“I know.”
She opened the passenger door.
“I just need to understand how someone had access to your house before you even knew the room existed.”
Adrien watched her climb inside.
“Welcome to my life.”
The next morning, they returned to the tower.
Vincent was gone.
Marianne was gone.
Three security personnel had disappeared.
The remaining employees claimed ignorance.
Rachel didn't believe them.
She spent six hours reconstructing the hidden network from the electrical data.
The architecture was sophisticated.
The system did not depend on one main server.
It moved through redundant circuits.
Every time someone disconnected one node, another took over.
“It’s designed to survive discovery,” she said.
Adrien leaned over the table.
“Can you destroy it?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“By shutting down the building again.”
He looked at her.
“You're enjoying this.”
“No.”
A pause.
“Maybe a little.”
For the first time, Adrien laughed.
It surprised both of them.
Rachel stared.
“You do know how.”
“How what?”
“Laugh.”
“Rarely.”
“Why?”
“People usually aren't funny.”
“I'll try harder.”
He looked at her.
“You already are.”
Their eyes held.
The moment lasted too long.
Rachel looked away.
“There's another problem.”
“What?”
“The surveillance system records the electrical signature of every device in the building.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning someone can tell when security cameras are disabled, when doors open, when elevators move, even when particular people enter rooms.”
Adrien's expression became hard.
“They've been watching my every move.”
“Yes.”
“Then why haven't they killed me?”
Rachel considered it.
“Because they don't want you dead.”
“Why?”
“They need you.”
“For what?”
Rachel turned the screen.
There was a hidden transaction trail.
Money had moved through shell corporations.
The recipient was a company called Morgan Electric Services.
Rachel stared.
Her own company.
“No.”
Adrien watched her face.
“What?”
“That's impossible.”
She opened the account.
Payments had been made to her company over the past five years.
She had never seen them.
She called her accounting office.
The owner answered.
Rachel asked about several transaction numbers.
Silence.
Then:
“Rachel, we need to talk.”
Her heart sank.
An hour later, she learned that someone had created a shadow account using her business license.
Someone had been routing money through her company.
Enough money to make her look like a criminal conspirator.
Adrien looked at her.
“They planted you.”
Rachel shook her head.
“Before they knew who I was.”
“No.”
She turned.
“What?”
“They knew.”
“From when?”
“Your background check.”
Rachel stared.
Adrien placed a file on the table.
Everything about her.
School.
Apprenticeship.
Employment.
Family.
Her father.
Rachel's eyes stopped.
“My father.”
Adrien nodded.
“Thomas Morgan.”
She closed the file.
“Don't.”
“He worked here.”
Rachel looked up sharply.
“What?”
“Thirty-two years ago.”
Her father had been an electrician.
She knew that.
What she didn't know was that he had worked on Reichi Tower during its original construction.
Adrien continued.
“He disappeared after an electrical fire killed two contractors.”
Rachel shook her head.
“My father died in a work accident.”
“That was the official story.”
She stood.
“You're telling me that's not true?”
Adrien's voice softened.
“I’m telling you I don't know.”
Rachel paced.
“All my life, my mother said he died because a transformer exploded.”
“Maybe.”
“Then why was his name in your records?”
“Because he was one of the engineers who designed the original emergency system.”
Rachel stopped.
Her father had always warned her about shortcuts.
Always.
He had told her electricity never lied.
People did.
She had thought it was simply an old electrician's philosophy.
Now she wasn't sure.
Adrien handed her a second file.
Inside was a photo.
Her father stood beside Daniel Price.
The chief engineer reported dead two days earlier.
Rachel's hands shook.
“They knew each other.”
“For decades.”
She looked at Daniel.
“Then his death wasn't a hit-and-run.”
Adrien nodded.
“Probably not.”
Rachel looked at him.
“Why are you helping me?”
“Because someone used you.”
“That doesn't answer the question.”
He was silent.
Then he said:
“Because I know what it feels like to discover your life was built on lies.”
That was the first honest thing Adrien had ever said about himself.
Rachel did not know why, but it made her chest ache.
That evening, Adrien took her to his private office.
He showed her the original construction blueprints.
Rachel studied them.
Then froze.
“Wait.”
She traced one corridor.
“This wall doesn't exist.”
Adrien frowned.
“It does now.”
“No.”
She pointed.
“Look at the load paths. This beam should terminate here, but it doesn't.”
She followed it.
“The building was designed around an empty vertical shaft.”
Adrien stared.
“A shaft?”
“Yes.”
Rachel looked toward the floor.
“Someone built a hidden electrical trunk through it.”
She grabbed a flashlight.
They opened the maintenance hatch.
A narrow shaft descended beyond the floors.
Inside ran heavy cables.
Newer cables.
Installed recently.
Rachel whispered:
“They're still building.”
Adrien's expression changed.
“What are they building?”
Rachel looked down into darkness.
“Whatever comes next.”
An alarm sounded.
Every monitor in Adrien’s office turned on.
A live feed showed Rachel's apartment.
She watched herself entering the building earlier that evening.
Another camera.
Her bedroom.
Another.
Her workshop.
Then a final feed.
Her father's old garage.
Rachel stared.
“That place hasn't been used in twenty years.”
A figure appeared on the screen.
An elderly woman.
She stood beside the garage.
She looked directly into the camera.
Then wrote on a piece of cardboard:
COME ALONE, RACHEL.
Adrien looked at her.
“You're not going alone.”
Rachel stared at the image.
“No.”
She remembered her father's last words to her mother.
Electricity never lies.
May you like
People do.
The person waiting at that garage might finally know why.
