She stopped in the middle of the lobby. She looked at Reed. She said his name, Reed Callahan, not a question. The tone of a person confirming something they have spent days trying to verify. Vivian Ashcroft appeared at the lobby elevator 90 seconds later.
She had come down herself when her assistant reported that Dana Chou was in the lobby, and someone she had apparently recognized by name was also there. Vivian looked at Reed. She looked at Dana. Then to Reed, "Conference Room Two. Five minutes."
The room had a glass wall facing the internal corridor. Grant Holloway was already inside with two senior engineers and Vivian's legal counsel. Reed walked in, set the folder on the table, and remained standing. Grant said, "This man has no standing here." Reed did not look at Grant.
He opened the folder and set the first document on the table. The thermal analysis, four pages of handwritten calculations, with the failure threshold circled at the bottom of the third page. Beside it, the printout of the anonymous email, timestamp visible in the header. 72 hours before Marco Vega's crash, one of the senior engineers picked up the analysis and began to read. His expression changed the way a person's expression changes when they are reading something that is restructuring their understanding of a situation they thought they understood.
"Third loop," Reed said, "Thermal load at 143° C. Emergency torque cut initiates. Car loses stability at any speed above 90 mph." The engineer looked up. "That's exactly what happened."
The room went quiet. Reed looked at Grant then, directly. For the first time since the day he had been walked out of this building, he was in the same space as Grant Holloway and had something in his hands that Grant could not take away. "Mr. Holloway, his voice was level. Would you like me to read from the internal technical report dated March 14th, 2017?
The one you deleted from the company server in 2019? I have the original." No one spoke. Grant opened his mouth, closed it. He was a man who had spent decades knowing exactly what to say, and he was looking at Reed Callahan and calculating whether there was anything left.
Vivian, standing at the head of the table, was looking at Grant with an expression Reed had not seen on her face in any of their interactions. She was watching her technical director fail to speak, and something in her face was going very quiet and very certain. Reed picked up the folder. "Ms. Ashcroft, you have 37 vehicles from the current production line with the same coolant architecture as the prototype. Every one of them has the same unresolved design fault.
He headed for the door. Your legal team can reach Pete Granger directly regarding the supplier dispute. He had nothing to do with what happened to your test driver. He stopped. Did not turn.
You have 48 hours before Dana Chou publishes whatever she's already found. I thought you should hear it from someone who was there first. He left. Dana came to the garage that evening after 9:00, when the last car had been picked up and Pete had locked the main bay. Reed was at the workbench, not working on anything.