Chapter 6 - The Soundboard Ambush
The backstage area behind the main stage was crowded with sound engineers, lighting technicians, and production assistants wearing black headsets. On the stage, Harold was already standing at the podium beneath a dazzling beam of white light, delivering his keynote address to thunderous applause.
“My friends,” Harold’s voice boomed over the arena-grade sound system, reverberating off the gilded ceilings. “Innovation is born from sacrifice. When my dearest friend and brother, Mike Vance, passed away, I made a vow to carry his torch. Tonight, Sterling Biomedical unveils the future!”
Elena slipped behind the massive digital soundboard. The primary sound engineer, a young man with a baseball cap, was leaning over a mixing monitor, adjusting Harold’s wireless lavalier microphone.
“Excuse me,” Elena said softly.
The engineer turned around, surprised. “Ma’am? You can’t be back here. This is a restricted production zone.”
“I’m Elena Vance,” she said, her voice completely steady, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made the young man blink. “Mike Vance’s widow.”
The engineer paused, his eyes darting to her face. “Mrs. Vance? Wow... I’m sorry. I saw your picture in the company memorial booklet. But you still can’t be here—Mr. Sterling’s security is very strict—”
“I need you to look at this screen,” Elena interrupted, turning the Samsung tablet toward him.
The screen was displaying live telemetry data, brainwave spikes, and an active Bluetooth-neural bridging interface titled: *VANCE NEURAL DUPLEX – MASTER OVERRIDE.*
“What... what is that?” the tech asked, leaning closer, his professional curiosity instantly piqued. “That looks like an experimental dual-channel patch.”
“It’s an audio feed,” Elena whispered. “From the man Harold Sterling claims is dead. Harold is wearing the receiver right behind his ear. And the man speaking on this line is my husband, who is being murdered right now in Harold’s basement.”
The technician stared at her, terrified. “Ma’am, that sounds insane. If this is a joke, I’ll lose my job—”
“Listen,” Elena said, shoving one of her earbuds into his ear.
The tech listened for five seconds. His face turned gray. His jaw fell open as Harold’s recorded voice whispered through the transceiver: *‘The sedative in your IV drip is set for midnight... the clinic will suffer a tragic electrical fire.’*
“Holy God...” the technician whispered, stumbling backward against the console.
“You have the master output switch right there,” Elena said, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp command. “Patch my tablet into the ballroom’s main speaker array. Right now.”
Before the tech could move, a heavy, gloved hand slammed down on the soundboard.
May you like
👉 “Back away from the desk, Mrs. Vance,” Harold’s head of private security growled, pulling a concealed taser from his jacket.
***
