Even after leaving the ZK Tech building, the sound of footsteps lingered in her mind. Breath, unsteady, paint a blade, driven deep into her chest. Might be weariness… or an exhaustion brought about by lingering panic.
Peering over one more time, Glancing, no one is pursuing you.
Yet the unnerving sensation of surveillance persists. It is as if a phantom is tracing every movement she makes.
Returning home, Layla flopped onto her bed. Resting on her desk was a USB drive that once "glimmered" in the moonlight and had recently been smuggled out of ZK Tech.
Staring blankly at the night sky,
"Why you?" The whispering question padded softly across the room.
Even cleaning out the garbage computer was a tough ask. It's ages broken screen and old dust covered keyboard meant zero to Layla. At this stage, anything else would suffice.
Filling the world's hibernating device with singular purpose, armored with a solitary flash drive and a defunct laptop worked out for her.
Startle her just a tiny bit, a micro second shock.
Unlocking files, an explorer window and folder springs open.
FOR AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY
Layla clicked.
Did her computer's internal components almost combust? Sure. But, one by one, the files began pulling up. PDF. JPG. Video.
After a moment, files began to emerge one by one. PDF. JPG. Video.
She opened a PDF file.
"—Weapon purchase? For whom?"
"— Funds coming in from an overseas account — over RM 12 million?"
"—secret project 'Tempest'? What is this?"
Feelings of anxiety coursed through her as she scrolled her heart rate suddenly quickened. A singular image began populating.
An elderly male, slender, stooped, and disheveled—standing in front of a whiteboard adorned with the ZK Tech logo. Seeing this logo on her Family picture post cards made her feel nauseous. Addition picture displayed him posed with the white paper which was under her mom's cupboard turned out to be a bewildering discovery.
Until this point, she was utterly ignorant about this man shocking revelation or rather epiphany struck her… but now she is surely connected to him. Harmonizing with her stomach's rumbles of anxiety her palms trembled.
She opened a video share now.
Layers of conversations form CCTV footage began to float: "—if that kid knew… we were all finished."
"It's been taken care of," another man replied with sigh, "the main server's file has been deleted."
"Not enough. He has a copy. He's… Azman's son, right?"
The lines went silent.
At this point her laptop closure acting as a shutter made her lock imaginary borders; her unconsciously brought hand pressing her heart's venue shields laid upon crescendo of breath she exhaled.Azman?
Her father?
Her father died in an accident 10 years ago?
No… Wasn't it an accident?
Summary provides an overview of key aspects.
Everything in her head was spinning like a hurricane. It didn't make sense. But it all… started to connect. Little by little.
Layla bowed. Her hair fell over her face.
She knew… her life had changed tonight.
And she knew… the person she trusted the most was probably the most dangerous person.
The bed felt cold. The night was getting late. But Layla couldn't sleep.
She knew one thing now.
She couldn't trust anyone.