“That is why they accused me of academic fraud,” I said. “If I was discredited, my objections would mean nothing to the patent office.”

“Exactly,” Vance said. “A discredited researcher cannot sue for patent infringement.”

The door of the briefing room opened, and a man in a dark suit stepped inside.

He handed Vance a printed sheet of paper.

“The warrant was just approved,” he said. “The field office in the city is moving now.”

Vance stood up, smoothing the front of her jacket.

“Dr. Hayes, would you like to accompany us to Hayes Industries?” she asked. “We are about to execute a search warrant for their corporate servers.”

I looked at the black drive on the table.

“I want to see Arthur’s face when he realizes what is on that drive,” I said.

We rode in the back of an unmarked black SUV, the tires humming against the wet pavement.

The rain had slowed to a drizzle, but the sky remained dark and heavy.

The corporate headquarters of Hayes Industries was a towering structure of blue glass and steel.