Chapter 11: The Server Room

The Gulf Capital partner called Dani on Saturday and did not waste a word.

"Ms. Kehoe, I've watched your interview four times. I believe you. But I don't invest on belief."

His voice was dry and level.

"Monday at nine, I need a signed statement from an independent engineer that Beacon runs from your copy, with no Halloway keys."

"Why would Halloway's keys matter?" Dani asked.

"Because in thirty days, if you're right, he won't have the license."

It was fair.

It was also a deadline with a very short fuse.

Which was how she ended up at midnight in the Stroud Labs server room, in a sweatshirt and borrowed wool socks.

Nolan Stroud sat on a stool across the aisle.

Gulf had named Nolan as the witness.

It was the one thing about the arrangement Dani had not argued with, and she had not wanted to look at why.

The room was sixty-one degrees and hummed.

Racks of black machines stood in rows, with green lights blinking in the dark.

"You can go home," she told him, around two. "I only need you for the signature."

"I'll stay."

"Nobody's watching."

"That's not why I'm staying."

She did not ask what was.

At three, she pulled her sleeves over her hands to type.

Nolan took off his jacket without a word and held it out across the aisle.

"I'm fine."

"You're blue."

"I'm concentrating."

"Dani."

She took it, mostly to stop him from saying her name like that.

It was warm, and it smelled like cedar and coffee.

She shrugged into it and kept typing, and neither of them said a word about it.

At four, the system finally booted clean.