The emotional charge between them dissipated, replaced by a tense, pragmatic chill. Zara waved a waiter over and ordered them moved to a small, private room in the back of the cafe, citing a “sensitive business matter.” Once the door was closed, she turned to Caspian, her expression all clinical focus.
“My turn,” she said, her voice sharp. “Dr. Alistair Finch. He has a sealed malpractice suit against him. A patient died under his care in a private clinic years ago. The details are buried, but I know it exists. His protocols for Isolde’s ‘treatment’ have been irregular from the start. No second opinions, restricted access, all data routed through his personal office.”
Caspian processed this, the pieces clicking into place. “The man in the video, Daniel Corbin, is his nephew. Thorne’s Preliminary Dossier also flagged a history of suspicious insurance claims filed by Isolde over the past decade. Minor accidents, stolen property. Always settled just before a formal investigation.”
They looked at each other, two commanders merging battlefield maps. For the first time, they saw the full scope of the conspiracy. It wasn’t just a lie; it was a long-running criminal enterprise.
“Leaking the video isn’t enough,” Zara stated, thinking aloud. “Isolde will claim you doctored it. She’ll say you coerced Corbin. She controls the narrative of the fragile victim. The public wants to believe her.”
Caspian nodded, his own conclusions aligning with hers. “We can’t fight data with data. We need a human element. Someone unimpeachable.”
“A witness,” Zara finished for him. “Someone from her past. Someone she or Finch threatened, coerced, or paid off. The subject of that sealed malpractice suit, maybe.”
The objective crystallized between them. Their new, unified goal was no longer just to expose a lie. It was to find a person, a past victim who could stand before the world and testify to a pattern of fraud that stretched back years.
“My team will handle the search,” Caspian said, his corporate authority returning, but this time in service of her plan. “`Hawthorne Industries` has the resources to dig into Finch’s past, to find the ‘Jane Doe’ from that lawsuit, or any nurse or caregiver who was fired under suspicious circumstances.”
“And I’ll provide the medical context,” Zara added. “I can identify the types of people who would have been in a position to see the truth. I can analyze patient records, find discrepancies my colleagues might have missed.”
It was done. Two separate, desperate investigations were now one. A tense, fragile, but functional alliance was born in the quiet back room of a cafe. They had a name for it, unspoken but understood by both.
This was the Joint Operation. And their war had just begun.
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