THE HAND OF VENGEANCE

Chapter 5 — Smoke and Mirrors

Morning sunlight hit the mirrored glass of Roth Biotech Tower, turning the lobby into a gleaming reflection of everything Lisa wanted to believe she’d earned.

Outside, a line of reporters shouted questions into microphones: “Is it true you knew Frank Mercer personally?”

“Was he unstable?”

“Did you help expose his methods?”

Lisa adjusted her sunglasses and kept walking. Cameras flashed. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Upstairs, behind soundproof doors, Dr. Victor Roth was already pacing. He turned when she entered, sleek and dangerous in his tailored suit. “Finally,” he said. “You made them wait long enough to look important.”

“I am important,” she replied coolly, setting her bag down. “Or you wouldn’t have called me.”

Roth’s grin was all teeth. “You always did learn fast.”

He clicked the remote. Screens along the wall lit up with the same viral clip, Frank in the alley, rain-slicked and calm as chaos swirled around him. The crowd chanting, the phones, the miracle.

“Two million shares before sunrise,” Roth said. “The networks call him a messiah.”

Lisa folded her arms. “Then why do you look worried?”

“Because messiahs don’t stay controllable. He was a nobody yesterday, and now every medical firm in the country wants his name on a contract. Including ours.”

She frowned. “You want to hire him?”

“I want to own him,” Roth said. “Or bury him. Whichever comes first.”

Lisa turned away from the screens. “He won’t come back. Not after what we”

“What you did, darling,” Roth interrupted, pouring himself coffee. “You made sure he had no allies left. Perfectly executed, by the way.”

She shot him a sharp look. “You said that’s what it would take to prove my loyalty.”

“And it did. But loyalty has an expiration date.”

She bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Roth handed her a thin folder. “The President’s daughter’s condition. Internal sources say she’s improving, thanks to Mercer.”

Lisa flipped through the documents, eyes widening. “How do you have these?”

“I have friends in interesting places,” he said. “Including a few who are… unhappy that Frank’s back onstage. He’s asking the wrong questions about the wrong technology.”

“You mean that bracelet,” she said quietly.

Roth nodded. “The one linked to our research grant three years ago.”

Lisa looked up sharply. “Wait, you’re saying we built it?”

“We funded the prototype,” Roth said. “Someone else weaponized it.”

Her throat went dry. “And Frank found out.”

“Exactly. Which means he’s about to dig into data that ties back here. When he does, we’ll both be finished.”

Lisa dropped the folder onto the desk. “So what’s your plan?”

Roth’s smile returned, thin as wire. “Discredit him before he talks. Same way we did before, only cleaner this time.”

She hesitated. “You’re talking about ruining his life again.”

“I’m talking about survival,” Roth said. “You think those government people will protect you once they realize you were his connection to us? No. You’ll go down with him.”

Lisa’s pulse quickened. “So what do you want me to do?”

“Get close. Pretend you regret what happened. He’s still soft where you’re concerned.”

Her jaw clenched. “You think I can just walk up to him after everything?”

“You’ll figure it out. Cry, confess, whatever it takes. Make him trust you.”

“And then?”

“Feed me everything he finds,” Roth said. “Every question he asks, every name he mentions. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Lisa’s eyes flashed. “And if he’s right about the bracelet, if it really was ours, how long do you think you can keep that buried?”

Roth leaned closer, voice lowering to a whisper. “As long as people believe Frank Mercer’s the lunatic who invented a conspiracy to save his own ego. And you, my dear, are the key to making them believe it.”

LaterAt  Roth’s private office. When she’d gone, Roth poured another coffee and stared at the city sprawling beneath him.

His assistant appeared at the door. “Sir, we just got a call from Dr. Brant’s office. She wants to meet, off record.”

Roth smiled. “Of course she does. Tell her I’m free tonight.”

“Should I prepare the secure line?”

He nodded. “And send flowers to the President’s daughter’s ward. Make sure they’re from the hospital, not us.”

The assistant hesitated. “Sir… are we sure Dr. Mercer’s not a bigger risk alive than dead?”

Roth didn’t answer immediately. He walked to the window, watching a storm roll in from the lake. “Alive, he makes noise,” he said finally. “Noise I can control. Dead, he becomes a legend.”

He tapped the glass lightly. “And legends don’t stay buried.”

Meanwhile — Lisa’s car, lower parking level

Rain again. Always rain. She sat behind the wheel, engine idling, folder still open on the passenger seat. Frank’s photo stared up from the front page, hospital ID, eyes tired but alive.

Her phone buzzed: From Roth — Don’t forget why you’re doing this.

She typed back, Remind me.

His reply came instantly: Because he left you behind first.

She stared at the message until the screen dimmed. Then she threw the phone onto the dashboard and whispered, “You don’t know him anymore.”

Still, when she started the car, she was already planning what she’d say when she saw Frank again, the apology, the tears, the perfectly measured regret.

But beneath all that rehearsal was something colder, older: the part of her that had wanted to see him fall, just once, so she could stop feeling small beside his brilliance. And that, she knew, was the part Roth was counting on.

Newsfeed excerpt, playing faintly from her radio “…public fascination grows around Dr. Frank Mercer, the surgeon whose miraculous rescue went viral last week. Sources inside St. Mary’s confirm he’s now consulting on the President’s daughter’s case. Government officials refuse to comment…”

Lisa turned the volume down and whispered to the empty car, “Be careful, Frank. You’re in a war you can’t see.”