Chapter 6 - The Web Closes
At 3:00 PM, Julian’s team struck.
Dr. Karen Webb had been hiding in a converted industrial loft near the city’s rail yards, waiting for a wire transfer of five hundred thousand dollars that was supposed to secure her passage out of the country. She didn't get the money. Instead, four black SUVs blocked the alleyways surrounding her building, and Julian’s operatives breached the unit in under forty seconds.
Thirty minutes later, Mason entered the basement of an unlisted corporate warehouse owned by Sloane Infrastructure—a secure testing facility used for stress-testing heavy materials.
Dr. Webb was sitting tied to a steel chair under the glare of an overhead work lamp. She was pale, her surgical scrubs replaced by sweatpants, her eyes darting frantically toward the concrete walls.
Mason didn't shout. He didn't slam his hands on the table. He walked into the room with slow, deliberate steps, holding a glass folder containing the audio files from Claire’s USB drive and the toxicological reports from the hospital.
"Dr. Webb," Mason said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "At 8:42 PM yesterday, you entered Room 412 at St. Catherine’s Medical Center using a stolen RFID badge. You introduced 15 milliliters of a organophosphate toxin into my wife’s IV line while she was watching her newborn children."
"I don't know what you’re talking about!" she shrieked, her voice echoing off the concrete. "I’m a consultant! I was nowhere near that hospital!"
Mason signaled to Julian, who opened a laptop on the table, displaying a live video feed of a residential home in upstate New York. On the screen, two men in suit jackets were standing outside a neat suburban house where an elderly woman was tending to a garden.
"That is your mother, Arthurine Webb," Mason said softly. "She lives comfortably on the pension you provide her. You did this job because Richard Sterling promised to clear your debts and fund your private lab in Switzerland. But Richard Sterling doesn't leave loose ends, Karen. Five minutes ago, my security team intercepted a man approaching your mother’s house with a container identical to the one you used on my wife."
Karen Webb’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened in absolute terror. "What?"
"Sterling was never going to pay you five hundred thousand dollars," Mason continued, taking a step closer. "He was going to eliminate you, and then he was going to eliminate your mother to ensure no paper trail ever led back to his office. I saved your mother’s life twenty minutes ago. Now, you are going to give me the sworn, recorded confession I need to destroy Richard Sterling, or I will hand you over to Detective Vance and let Sterling’s men finish what they started."
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Tears spilled over Karen Webb’s pale cheeks. "He... he gave me the vial," she sobbed, her body shaking violently against the restraint straps. "Sterling gave it to me himself in his private car! He told me it was a mild paralytic—that it would just cause a temporary medical emergency so you would be forced to sign over executive proxy during the crisis! He told me nobody was going to die!"
"He lied," Mason said coldly. "Now, state your name for the camera."
