Chapter 10 - Infiltration
The Grand Meridian ballroom was a suffocating sea of white-gold architectural molding, glittering crystal chandeliers, and expensive evening wear. Outside, black-tie guests stepped out of town cars onto the red carpet, flashing bright smiles for the local news cameras while security guards in heavy black blazers checked credentials at the main bronze-paneled doors. We didn't use the front entrance. Cormac had mapped out the service logistics three hours prior, using a stolen catering uniform and a forged maintenance pass to slip us through the subterranean loading docks beneath the kitchens, avoiding the automated scanners and the sharp eyes of Gideon's personal retinue.
The air in the subterranean corridor smelled faintly of old floor wax, bleach, and roasting garlic from the banquet prep kitchens. I stood in the dim, tile-walled service hallway wearing a borrowed black evening gown that felt entirely too elegant for the cold knot of anxiety twisting relentlessly in my stomach. Cormac stood beside me, his muscular frame draped in a tailored black tuxedo with his crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the top collar—the dark neck tattoos artfully concealed by a high-collared vest, though his steady, watchful gaze remained unchanged, scanning every shadow and flickering fluorescent tube overhead. He checked the titanium-cased backup drive in his breast pocket one last time before looking down at me, his eyes softening just fractionally to anchor me against the rising panic.
"The main audio-visual control booth is directly above the stage," Cormac whispered, his voice low and steady over the distant, muffled rumble of a string quartet playing inside the main ballroom. "Once Gideon takes the podium for his keynote address, we override the local feed and stream the decrypted ledger files directly to the primary projector screens before his technical crew can lock out the system."
"And if his private security detail intercepts us in the wings?" I asked, my fingers nervously smoothing the delicate silk fabric of my dress, remembering too clearly the bruising grip of Gideon's fingers around my throat just days ago. "They're stationed at every primary access point, Cormac. They know my face."
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Cormac’s mouth curved into a grim, reassuring smile that reached his eyes. "They won't get past the doors. I've mapped the blind spots, and we move fast. Stay right behind my shoulder, keep your chin up, and don't let anyone see that you're looking backward."
Through the heavy double doors at the end of the service corridor, I could hear the muffled sound of polite applause swelling through the crowded ballroom as the master of ceremonies introduced foundation chairman Gideon Marsh to the stage. The time for hiding, for running, and for whispering in fear was officially over. I took a deep, steadying breath, squared my shoulders, and followed Cormac into the blinding lights.
