The basement of Zhang Wei's yet-to-open restaurant, The Zenith, was a chaotic symphony of humming server fans and the smell of industrial-strength espresso. We weren't the "90% Club" anymore; we were a specialized task force.
"Okay, listen up," I said, slamming a digital tablet onto the center of a crate. "Ying Yue didn't just steal my code. She's using the Institute's legal firewall to claim my logic as 'Company Property.' If we don't prove the original timestamp was created on my local machine before I ever shared the link with Li Yan, I lose everything."
Su Lan sat cross-legged on a swivel chair, three monitors glowing in her glasses. "I've already bypassed the Institute's first-level encryption. But they've got a 'Black Box' security system. I can't get the metadata without a physical bypass."
"That's where we come in," Jia Yi said, cracking her knuckles. Her throwball experience had turned her into a master of coordination. "Mei Ling and I have the floor plans for the National Tech Headquarters. The server room is on the 14th floor."
Li Yan stood in the corner, his face a mask of cold fury. He hadn't spoken for an hour. He was staring at a terminal, his fingers moving so fast they were a blur.
"The 14th floor is protected by biometric locks," Li Yan said, his voice dropping an octave. "But I'm the Head Fellow. I have the retinal access. The problem isn't getting in—it's getting out without the alarm triggering a permanent 'Data Wipe.'"
"Then we don't trigger the alarm," Lin Chen piped up, looking up from his tablet. "I've sketched the security guard rotation. There's a 45-second blind spot during the shift change at 2:00 AM."
"And if things get physical?" Zhang Wei asked, looking at me.
"I'm a silver medalist in karate, Wei," I said, a dangerous smile touching my lips. "If anyone tries to stop us from taking back my life, they're going to learn why I was the most feared President in middle school."