Julian Vance's official request for Anna Chen arrived the next morning. It was a perfectly worded piece of corporate maneuvering, cc'ing Marcus Graves and the head of HR, effectively putting Leo in a political corner.
Leo's response was a work of art.
He replied to all, his tone one of enthusiastic cooperation. He agreed in principle to the temporary transfer, hailing it as a "fantastic opportunity for inter-departmental synergy." Then came the subtle, poisonous conditions. He stated that for the transfer to be viable without compromising his own department's critical projects, he would need a "reciprocal resource allocation" from Product Development. He attached a list of server processing priorities and data access protocols that Julian's team would need to grant his own.
On the surface, it looked like a reasonable, collaborative request. But Leo, using the data from his Corporate Espionage probe, knew that Julian's server was already red-lining. Granting those priorities would slow his own failing project to a crawl. He also knew that the data access protocols would give him a legitimate backdoor to monitor Project Odyssey's progress in real-time.
He had agreed to give Julian a shovel, but only if Julian agreed to let him stand by the hole.
As the political gears began to turn, Leo noticed a change in Anna. The sullen resentment was gone, replaced by a new, almost smug confidence. She carried herself with the air of someone who knew a secret, who believed they were one step ahead.
It was an anomaly, and Leo's mind processed anomalies with ruthless efficiency.
That evening, after everyone had left, he sat in his silent, darkened office. "System," he murmured, "run a communications audit on Anna Chen for the past 48 hours. Cross-reference all external pings with Julian Vance's known network."
[Executing Audit…] The System's interface glowed in the darkness, lines of code and data packets scrolling across a virtual screen only he could see. After a moment, a single communication thread was isolated, glowing a faint, venomous red. It was a series of encrypted messages, sent from Anna's personal device to Julian's. The System cracked them open with contemptuous ease.
Julian: He's a roadblock. Help me get the resources I need, and there's a permanent senior position for you on the Odyssey team. You're wasted on that data-drone.
Anna: He's working on something new. Project Vulture. Aggressive, destabilization strategy.
Julian: I need details. Hard data. Give me something I can use to prove my project is more valuable than his, and the job is yours.
The betrayal was clinical, predictable. Leo felt nothing. No anger, no disappointment. Calm Mind (MAX) processed the information as it would any other data point. Betrayal was simply a variable in the corporate equation. Anna wasn't just a compromised asset anymore; she was a willing conduit. A weapon he could now aim back at his enemy.
The next morning, Leo called Anna into his office.
"Your work on Project Vulture has been exemplary," he said, his tone perfectly neutral. "So much so, I'm accelerating the timeline. I'm giving you access to the core strategy document. This is the highest level of clearance."
He pushed a single, encrypted data stick across the desk. "This is the 'Veridian Dossier.' It contains everything. Our primary competitor, Veridian Dynamics… we've found a catastrophic flaw in their new product line. This dossier contains the proof: leaked internal memos, flawed stress tests, the works. Our models predict their stock will collapse the moment it goes public."
He leaned forward, his expression serious. "This information is the single most valuable secret in this company right now. It does not leave this room. It is for your analysis only. I am trusting you with this, Anna. Don't disappoint me."
Every word was a lie. The Veridian Dossier was a masterpiece of fabrication. The "leaked" memos were written by him. The "flawed" stress tests were models he had designed to look authentic. The entire dossier was a beautiful, intricate, and utterly false data trail designed to lead anyone who followed it to invest heavily in a phantom opportunity. It was the most tempting piece of corporate bait he could imagine.
Anna took the data stick, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of ambition and triumph. She believed she was stealing the keys to the kingdom.
"You can count on me, Leo," she said, her voice a little too eager.
"I know I can," he replied.
He watched her walk out of his office, the data stick clutched in her hand like a trophy. He knew that within the hour, a copy of that data would be on Julian Vance's desk. The trap was set. The poison had been delivered by a willing hand.