Chapter 1-2

Chapter 1: The Mole

Los Angeles, San Bernadino County, Spruill Labs.

Like any other day, Lisa Marcos briskly walked into the medical wing, a large bouquet of flowers in her hands. Aunt Maria's spirits had been notably lifted recently; she had hours of clarity every day, even managing to share laughs and conversations.

According to Dr. Robert Scott Trivers, the head of the lab, the treatment was showing promise. The condition was improving, and the outlook was generally optimistic. This brought immense joy to both Lisa and her mother, prompting daily visits to Aunt Maria to chat and spend time together.

During this period, almost everyone in the lab had grown to recognize the boss's stunning girlfriend. Lisa's vivacious, kind-hearted nature quickly endeared her to everyone, particularly the middle-aged female researchers who doted on her like their own daughter.

Of course, the younger researchers could only harbor their admiration in secret. No one dared to compete with the boss. But just seeing her brightened their day.

Walking towards the sickroom, even the security guards couldn't help but greet Lisa with smiles, which she sweetly returned.

"Aunt Maria, you're looking much better today! What did you have for breakfast?"

Aunt Maria was awake, and Lisa affectionately kissed her cheek before replacing the slightly wilted flowers in the vase with the fresh bunch she brought. The lush baby's breath interspersed with violets and hydrangeas brought vibrancy to the room, instantly uplifting the mood.

"Good morning, Dr. French," Lisa greeted a middle-aged man bustling around the sickroom. Dr. Calder French, a key member of the lab, was responsible for monitoring Aunt Maria's condition, managing firsthand data, and ensuring everything was meticulously recorded and archived.

"Good morning, Lisa." Calder French seemed a bit distracted, not his usual enthusiastic self. He gave Lisa a fleeting glance and a forced smile before quickly diverting his attention and leaving the sickroom.

"Is something wrong with Dr. French? He looks a bit off," Lisa remarked, puzzled, as she adjusted Aunt Maria's bed for more comfort.

"I'm not sure, dear. Perhaps Mr. French is just preoccupied today," Aunt Maria gently said, her gaze soft and loving as she watched Lisa bustle about. "For breakfast, I had millet porridge, pork rib soup, and a banana. Please thank Bruce for me; he's found a fantastic chef. The variety and taste of the meals are exceptional. At this rate, I might get plump before I even recover."

"I'll let him know, but he's been swamped lately."

"I've yet to meet this fine young man, Bruce. What kind of person could have swept our beautiful Lisa off her feet?" Aunt Maria teased, her eyes brimming with affection and warmth.

"Oh, come on, Aunt Maria, I'm all grown up now. You shouldn't call me that anymore," Lisa protested, her cheeks flushing. It was a nickname from years ago, and it was embarrassing to hear it now, especially in Dr. French's absence. "Bruce has been very busy. He has visited you, but you weren't well enough to meet him then."

"I'm not holding it against him, sweetheart. Why are you so nervous? We should be grateful to Bruce for such excellent treatment," Aunt Maria said, her penetrating gaze softening into a loving smile.

Outside the sickroom, Calder French, who had just left, seemed lost in thought. After pacing back and forth, he quietly returned, leaning against the door, eavesdropping on the conversation inside.

"Dr. French, are you here for Aunt Maria's check-up?" a passing researcher greeted him with a smile.

French quickly shifted to the side, awkwardly nodding to the researcher. Realizing he couldn't glean any useful information from Lisa's conversation, he reluctantly walked away, looking back every few steps.

For Calder French, the day seemed unusually long. His mind was elsewhere, nearly causing him to make mistakes in data entry. Thankfully, the lab's thorough cross-checking procedures prevented any major issues.

"Hey, Calder, what's up with you today? Got distracted by some nightclub dancer?" Cissie Nelson, his senior research partner, remarked with a hint of annoyance, aware of his partner's somewhat disordered private life.

"It's nothing, Cissie. I'm just not feeling great. Be extra careful with the checks. I might owe you a visit to Sammy's," Calder shot back, his hand clutching a small USB drive in his coat pocket for comfort. He was referring to Sammy's Gentlemen's Club, a high-end strip club in Los Angeles, promising a treat Cissie couldn't resist.

"Wow, you got it! But make sure you're alright, Calder. If you need to leave, I can handle things here."

"No, it's fine. I just need a moment to rest. We're almost off anyway."

Cal

der was the first to decline any help, not wanting to appear overly anxious, but his tense demeanor was hard to conceal. However, his overreaction only briefly puzzled Cissie, who shrugged it off.

As the end of the day approached, Calder and Cissie changed out of their lab coats and joined the other researchers heading out. Their lab was deep inside the facility, requiring a walk through a long corridor. Just as they reached the exit, the door burst open.

Several security guards from Solar Corona Company, clad in sleek uniforms, strode in. Their attire was meticulously designed, resembling military wear more than security uniforms. The double sun emblem on their chests, distinct from the standard black and red, was in black and gold, adding to their imposing presence.

These well-trained and formidable guards weren't typically interactive with the researchers, but their presence was always felt, hinting at a military background.

The security team, led by Congreve Warren, the head of lab security, blocked the corridor exit. His dark, sleek skin and agile demeanor scanned the crowd, his gaze finally resting on the pale-faced Calder French.

Chapter 2: Public Fury

"Dr. French! You have been stripped of your researcher credentials for violating the company's confidentiality agreement. You are now officially under a leak investigation. Please cooperate."

With these words from Congreve Warren, the researchers all stirred, instinctively stepping back, distancing themselves from Calder French. The confidentiality agreement of Solar Corona Company was known to be incredibly stringent, yet most people never took it too seriously, assuming that following the standard procedures would keep them out of trouble. But now, witnessing the security department's display, they realized the gravity of the situation – any slip-up, and the company would certainly take serious action.

"You must be mistaken, I haven't done anything against the rules," Calder French managed to say, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, still clinging to a sliver of hope, his voice forcedly steady. His hand, tucked unnaturally in his pocket, clenched tightly, nearly squeezing the life out of the small USB drive hidden there.

Congreve Warren didn't bother to address his denial, instead, he reached out and grabbed Calder's hand from his pocket. The latter reacted as if bitten by a snake, struggling desperately, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Stop it! You're violating my rights! What are you trying to do? I'm calling my lawyer!"

However, the physically unimposing researcher was no match for the muscular Congreve. Almost instantly, his arm was twisted behind his back, and the silver USB drive, shimmering under the corridor's overhead lights, was exposed. The black and gold dual-color logo of Solar Corona was prominently displayed – a mark of the company's internal storage devices, each with a unique serial number, only allowed to be removed from the building after complex registration procedures, and usually mandated to remain within the lab.

As the corridor, now clogged with off-duty staff, watched this scene unfold, the nature of the incident became crystal clear to everyone.

"SHIT!"

"That son of a bitch..."

The crowd's murmurs grew louder, some couldn't help but curse outright. The rules of Solar Corona Company were indeed numerous and strict, but so were the salaries, significantly higher than the industry standard.

Moreover, everyone remembered that tantalizing special clause in their renewed contracts: project researchers could receive a certain percentage of direct financial benefits, the specific ratio determined by the company's internal hierarchy and financial department details.

Nobody was a fool. Given the current progress of their research projects, breakthroughs were almost guaranteed, and the bonuses would be substantial. Some had already started planning their lavish spending once they got their share, not to mention the prestige that came with being part of the research team, an honor that could soon become overwhelming.

Calder's actions were essentially funneling everyone's benefits into his own pockets. Whether he intended to sell the research data or collaborate with outsiders, the emergence of one or more competitors in the market would not only diminish the founding team's honor but also their financial rewards.

In short, the end result would be Calder French pocketing the benefits, with the company and its researchers, who could have received a share of the bonuses, bearing the losses. Such an act was intolerable.

"This is all a misunderstanding! I just forgot to put it back..." Calder French, regardless of the pain from his locked arm, looked around at the hostile eyes surrounding him and desperately tried to defend himself.

But this poor soul couldn't have known that the security department had already been alerted to his unusual behavior. Choosing this time, near the end of the workday when the corridor was most crowded, to corner him was a deliberate move to make an example out of him, to incite public anger.

Bruce had already ordered a harsh crackdown, to be carried out in full view of everyone, to deter anyone else harboring similar thoughts.

Congreve, without any apparent effort, smoothly subdued Calder, pinning his joint with one hand. The unfortunate doctor was in such discomfort that he was forced to tiptoe, barely able to make a sound. Meanwhile, a security officer with brown short hair opened a folder in his hands and read in a cold voice:

"According to the core server's real-time records, mobile storage device number SA-07 was used on computers C3, C6, among others, a total of 7, for 9 connections today. It stored data including the AC-2 type anti-cancer agent composition trial ratios, IM-3 immune needle human readings, and the macro blueprint samples of the absolute zero deceleration system, covering most of the lab's achievements. Furthermore!"

At this point, the blond security officer paused dramatically, his gaze sweeping across the room. Those he looked at involuntarily shrank back. "Mobile storage device number SA-07, without any prior declaration or registration, was connected to Dr. Calder French's personal laptop once, completing a data upload."

In the lab, due to signal shielding, Calder French's laptop couldn't access the internet. But if he found an opportunity to

take it out later, under the guise of research or some other reason, it might not attract attention – this data upload was clearly a backup plan, in case the USB drive theft failed.

If Calder French had merely taken the USB drive out of the lab, it might have been seen as a careless mistake. But combining all these signs, it was impossible to explain his actions as mere coincidence.

In fact, Calder French was well aware that the company's computers were all connected to the core server, and any hardware connection was logged. Unauthorized mobile storage device connections would trigger an alarm from the security department. So he chose to use an internal mobile storage device to download data, which, even if a bit frequent, was less likely to raise suspicions.

Once he got the USB drive out, he could hand it over to the person who had promised him a deal, and their technicians would handle the rest. He could then bring it back the next day without anyone being the wiser.

However, what Calder didn't know was that Solar Corona Company's security measures were far beyond his imagination, with both overt and covert safeguards. Not only was data from internal computers recorded around the clock, but every registered, independent mobile storage device was also under constant surveillance, even equipped with sophisticated monitoring and positioning devices.

His nervous demeanor and unusual behavior, constantly keeping the USB drive in his pocket, had already attracted the attention of the security department. Along with surveillance covering every corner, his anxious actions had long made Congreve zero in on him. Even if he managed to get the USB drive out of the lab, he wouldn't be able to make it a hundred meters.

At this point, even a fool wouldn't believe Calder's flimsy excuses.

Some impatient young researchers had already started to physically vent their frustration on this traitor, who had once held a respected position as a senior researcher and head of the medical department. If not for the trained security personnel offering some protection, he would probably have been carried out horizontally.

"Damn it, he still tries to argue! And I used to respect this guy!"

"Bullshit! Does he think everyone is as stupid as he is? All his scheming, without the lab, he's nothing!"

"Maybe Mr. French thinks he can buy us all off, thinking a few cents will do the trick..."

In the heat of the moment, all sorts of mocking and angry words were hurled at Calder French. Senior researcher Cissie Nelson was even more furious than the rest, but he didn't dare to push to the front like the younger ones. Instead, he shrank back into the crowd, fearing that being called out at this moment would associate him with his partner – a dreadful thought.

Damn Calder!

Cissie thought bitterly, almost fooled by him, wondering how much Calder had gained to think a single "Sammy" would be enough to placate him. But seeing Calder's pitiful state now brought a sense of vindictive satisfaction.

The usually image-conscious doctor was now the epitome of dishevelment. The angry researchers nearly poked their fingers into his eyes. He could only cover his head, retreating backward, dodging miscellaneous objects thrown from the crowd.

A fierce female researcher even threw her high heels, and the security personnel, seemingly inadvertently, stepped aside just in time for the red heel to hit its mark. Calder let out a pig-like scream as fresh blood trickled between his fingers.

Seeing that the desired effect had been achieved, Congreve finally signaled his subordinates to take Calder away. At this moment, the doctor had no intention of defending himself anymore, only wishing to escape as quickly as possible.