Jack followed, a small smirk on his face. The elevator rose. Eleanor felt a bead of sweat on her neck. The game was on.
Reed’s office was quiet. Eleanor pushed open the heavy door. A balding man in a rumpled blue shirt was hunched over a desk covered in files. He looked terrible—gray skin, bloodshot eyes.
“Who are you? How did you get in here?” Reed stood up, reaching for the phone.
“Sit down, Mr. Reed,” Eleanor said calmly. “I’m Dr. Vance. Your primary care physician sent me for an urgent screening. Given what happened to Mr. Sterling, they’re worried about your stress levels. Jack, set up the machine.”
Jack moved with purpose, blocking the door. He set the case on a leather sofa and opened it.
“I didn’t call a doctor! I’m fine,” Reed stammered, but he sat back down. He looked at the computer screen, then at a stack of papers on the corner of his desk.
Eleanor saw the look. That was the target.
“Mr. Reed, this is part of your executive health package. We need an EKG now. Jack, prep the leads.”
Jack approached, his large frame looming over the desk. Reed was like a rabbit in headlights. He let Eleanor attach the electrodes to his chest. The cold gel made him flinch.
Eleanor turned on the machine. The paper began to roll out with a rhythmic hum.
“Interesting, Mr. Reed,” Eleanor said, frowning at the tape.
Jack stepped back, positioning himself where he could see the desk clearly.
“Your heart is racing. You’re terrified. Why is that? You know, stress is a silent killer. Just like what happened to Robert Sterling. A healthy man, one day here, the next day gone.”
Reed went pale. The sensors on his chest rattled.
“Are you with the feds?” he whispered.
“I’m a doctor,” Eleanor said, keeping her voice steady. “My job is to save lives. But you’re digging your own grave. You moved millions to Switzerland for ‘medical care.’ But you’re still here, holding the bag. Do you think the people who helped Sterling fake his death will leave witnesses? What about that laborer, Steve, they tried to bury alive? When do you think they’ll come for you?”
Reed gasped. The EKG line spiked. He knew she knew everything.
While Eleanor kept him paralyzed with fear, Jack’s eyes scanned the desk. He saw a faxed sheet under a magazine. It had Swiss bank logos on it.
*St. Gall Clinic, Geneva. Deposit Confirmation.*
