Part 16
The elevator doors opened,
revealing chaos,
on the editorial floor.
Agents were boxing up hard drives,
seizing files,
and photographing whiteboards.
Margaret stood in the center,
arguing with a man in a trench coat,
her arms crossed in defiance.
Eleanor walked up,
her expression calm,
despite the adrenaline pumping through her veins.
"I am Eleanor Pierce," she announced,
loudly,
drawing the attention of the room.
The man in the trench coat turned,
flashing a badge,
his eyes cold and calculating.
"Agent Harris,
FBI," he stated,
stepping into her personal space.
"You are impeding a free press,
Agent Harris," she countered,
holding her ground.
"We are executing a lawful warrant,
Ms. Pierce," he replied,
handing her a piece of paper.
She scanned the document,
noting the broad language,
signed by a judge she didn't know.
"You are looking for documents related to Victor Lang," she noted,
reading between the lines.
"We are looking for stolen government property," he corrected,
smiling without warmth.
"If you have hidden anything,
you will be charged with obstruction,
and espionage."
They were playing dirty,
using the Espionage Act,
to terrify her sources.
"My desk is over there,
have at it," she offered,
gesturing to her cubicle.
She knew it was clean,
she had learned her lesson during the Ashcroft trial,
never leave the good stuff at work.
Harris watched her,
closely,
trying to read her micro-expressions.
"We will also need your personal phone,
and your laptop," he demanded,
holding out his hand.
She handed them over,
willingly,
knowing they were scrubbed clean every night.
Julian's protocol,
was saving her life,
in real time.
For two hours,
they tore the office apart,
finding absolutely nothing of value.
Harris grew visibly frustrated,
his demeanor slipping,
revealing his desperation.
"This isn't over,
Ms. Pierce," he warned,
signaling his team to pack up.
"We will be watching you,
every move you make,
every person you talk to."
"I would expect nothing less,
in a democracy," she replied,
sarcastically.
When the elevator doors finally closed,
Margaret let out a long breath,
rubbing her temples.
"That was too close," Margaret muttered,
looking at the mess.
"They are scared," Eleanor realized,
feeling a surge of triumph.
"If they send the FBI,
it means we are close to the nerve,
close to the Director."
She went to the bathroom,
locked herself in a stall,
and retrieved the USB drive from her shoe.
It was safe,
and Elias Thorne's secret,
was still hers to expose.
But she needed Julian,
she needed his expertise,
to break the encryption on the drive.
She left the building,
May you like
knowing she was being followed,
and started to walk.
