Chapter 17 - The Interrogation of Julian Vance
The interrogation room at the federal holding facility was a sterile box of brushed concrete and reinforced glass. The harsh overhead LED panel cast a cold, clinical light over the scarred metal table bolted to the floor.
Julian Vance sat handcuffed to the table, his expensive charcoal-gray suit ruined by mud and grease, his left shoulder wrapped in a thick compression bandage from the tactical strike at Pier 48. He stared straight ahead at the stainless-steel surface, his jaw set in stubborn, defiant silence.
The heavy steel door swung open, and I walked into the room, followed closely by Detective Miller. We sat down on the opposite side of the table.
Julian slowly lifted his head, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine with undisguised venom. "You think arresting me accomplishes anything, old man? The board of directors has already activated succession protocols. Vance Global will survive. People like you—retirees playing hero—always lose in the end."
"Your company is liquidated, Julian," I said, leaning forward and resting my forearms on the metal table. "Your brother is facing life in a maximum-security federal penitentiary, and your private military contractor has been seized by the Department of Defense. There is no succession protocol left."
Julian let out a low, bitter chuckle. "You found the USB drive from the hotel. You found the financial records. But you still don't understand the scope of what my family built. Maya’s genetic markers weren't chosen at random, David. She carries a rare enzymatic sequence that can reverse cellular degradation. Kenneth didn't want to exploit her—he wanted to patent her DNA. And there are other investors, powerful people in Washington and Zurich, who have billions of dollars riding on the commercialization of that research."
Miller slammed his hand flat against the table, the sharp crack echoing off the concrete walls. "Names, Julian. Give us the names of the investors, or you’ll spend the rest of your natural life in a supermax prison where daylight is just a rumor."
Julian stared at Miller, a slow, mocking smile spreading across his lips. He didn't say a word. He simply leaned back in his chair, locking his eyes on the one-way observation mirror behind us.
"He’s stalling," I murmured, watching Julian’s micro-expressions. "He’s waiting for something."
Before Miller could respond, the heavy steel door burst open. An agent from the federal cyber-crimes division rushed into the room, holding a encrypted tablet computer in his hand, his face pale and dripping with sweat.
"Sir," the agent said, looking directly at Miller. "We just decrypted the secondary partition on the flash drive Julian’s operative left at the house."
"What’s on it?" I demanded, standing up from the table.
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"It’s not financial records," the agent swallowed hard. "It’s a live data-stream coordinates packet. They didn't just target Maya for genetic harvesting. They uploaded her complete genetic profile to an offshore server three hours ago. The transfer is currently pinging a secure satellite relay station in Geneva."
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