Vincenti's occupied a discreet corner of Brentwood, its understated exterior belying the Michelin-starred cuisine and celebrity clientele within. Michael arrived fifteen minutes late—a calculated move that allowed him to spot Victoria at the corner table before she saw him. She was nursing a glass of red wine, her auburn hair loose around her shoulders, wearing a simple black dress that was anything but simple on her.
For a moment, he allowed himself to remember when things between them had been different. Three years ago, they'd met as opposing counsel in a high-profile embezzlement case. The professional rivalry had quickly evolved into something more complicated, more intense. Six months of what Michael refused to call a relationship—Victoria had been equally resistant to labels—ended when she discovered he'd used information gleaned during pillow talk to undermine her case against a pharmaceutical executive.
She hadn't spoken to him for months after that, except in court. Even now, their interactions carried the weight of that betrayal.
Michael approached the table, and Victoria looked up, her expression carefully neutral. "You're late."
"Traffic on Wilshire." He slid into the seat across from her. "You look lovely."
"Save the charm for the jury, Michael." She took a sip of wine. "I ordered the '09 Barolo. I assume you're still partial to Italian reds?"
"Some preferences don't change." He studied her face. "Why am I here, Victoria? What do you know about the Chen case?"
A waiter appeared, and Michael ordered a scotch. Victoria waited until they were alone again before speaking.
"The SEC investigation into QuantumSphere isn't routine," she said, keeping her voice low. "It's being driven from the top, with unusual coordination between the Commission and the Justice Department."
"How unusual?"
"DOJ attorneys have been sitting in on witness interviews. They're building a parallel criminal case while the SEC pursues civil charges."
Michael frowned. This was indeed unusual—and concerning. The SEC typically completed its investigation before making a criminal referral to the Justice Department.
"Why the special treatment for Daniel Chen?"
Victoria hesitated. "What do you know about QuantumSphere's government contracts?"
"Only that they exist. Daniel doesn't discuss the details."
"They're developing quantum encryption systems for the Defense Department, the NSA, and several intelligence agencies I probably shouldn't name." Victoria leaned forward. "Systems that are supposed to be unbreakable."
"And they are," Michael said. "That's the whole point of quantum encryption."
"Except they're not." Victoria held his gaze. "At least, not as unbreakable as advertised."
Michael kept his expression neutral, though internally he was cursing Daniel for the omission. His friend had mentioned vulnerabilities but not that the government already knew about them.
"How do you know this?"
"The U.S. Attorney's office has been briefed. They're considering charges under the False Claims Act for knowingly selling defective systems to the government."
"That's absurd. Quantum computing is cutting-edge technology. Vulnerabilities are discovered and patched all the time."
"These weren't discovered after the fact, Michael. According to their whistleblower, QuantumSphere knew about the vulnerabilities before they sold the systems."
The waiter returned with Michael's scotch and to take their dinner orders. Michael barely registered what he ordered, his mind racing through implications.
"Who's the whistleblower?" he asked when they were alone again.
"I don't know. That's being kept very quiet." Victoria studied him. "You didn't know about any of this, did you?"
"Daniel mentioned potential vulnerabilities. He didn't say the government was already aware of them." Michael took a long sip of his scotch. "Why are you telling me this?"
Victoria was silent for a moment. "Do you remember the Braddock case?"
"The hedge fund manager? Of course. My first big win."
"And my first big loss." She twisted her wine glass slowly. "I was so focused on the insider trading charges that I missed the money laundering until it was too late. Braddock walked on all counts."
"That wasn't your fault. The evidence wasn't there."
"It was there. I just didn't see it." She met his eyes. "Don't make the same mistake with Chen. The insider trading investigation is a smokescreen. The real target is the government contracts."
Michael absorbed this. "Why would the SEC lead with securities fraud if the real issue is the contracts?"
"Because securities fraud is easier to prove, and it gives them leverage. They'll use it to pressure Chen into a plea that includes admissions about the encryption systems." Victoria's expression hardened. "The national security implications are significant, Michael. The government believes foreign intelligence services may have exploited these vulnerabilities."
"That's quite a leap from a technical flaw to foreign espionage."
"Is it? QuantumSphere has offices in Singapore, Israel, and Switzerland. Their systems are used by NATO allies. If there's a backdoor—intentional or otherwise—the potential damage is incalculable."
Michael's phone buzzed with a text. He glanced down to see a message from Abigail: *Found something on Harrington. Need to talk tonight.*
He put the phone away. "I appreciate the warning, Victoria. But why help me? Daniel Chen isn't exactly a victim here."
"I'm not helping Chen. I'm helping you." She held his gaze. "Despite everything, I'd rather not see you blindsided. Your reputation might survive losing a case, but not being implicated in a national security scandal."
"I'm touched by your concern for my reputation."
"Don't be. I just believe in a fair fight." She took another sip of wine. "And I want to be the one who finally beats you in court, not watch you get taken down by circumstances you didn't see coming."
Their food arrived—osso buco for Michael, branzino for Victoria. They ate in silence for a few minutes, the tension between them shifting from professional to something more personal.
"How's your father?" Victoria asked eventually.
"Still judging. Literally and figuratively." Michael cut into his veal with more force than necessary. "He's retiring next month."
"I heard. The courthouse is planning quite the celebration."
"They can celebrate without me."
Victoria studied him. "You know, for someone who makes his living persuading others, you're remarkably stubborn about your own grudges."
"It's not a grudge. It's a fundamental disagreement about my life choices."
"He's still your father."
"Thank you for the family therapy, Dr. Stone. I'll take it under advisement." Michael changed the subject. "How's the DA's office treating you these days?"
"Busy. Underfunded. The usual." She set down her fork. "Actually, I'm considering a change."
"Private practice? You'd make three times your current salary."
"Not everything is about money, Michael."
"So I've been told. Repeatedly." He smiled to soften the words. "What kind of change?"
"The U.S. Attorney's office has approached me about heading their new corporate fraud task force."
Michael raised his eyebrows. "Impressive. And a significant step up from the DA's office."
"It would mean handling cases like Chen's." She met his eyes. "We could be facing each other in federal court."
"I look forward to it. The stakes are higher when you're worthy of them."
Something flickered in Victoria's eyes—a mixture of professional respect and something more complicated. For a moment, Michael was reminded of why they'd been drawn to each other in the first place: the shared intellectual thrill of legal combat, the recognition of an equal opponent.
"There's something else you should know," she said, her tone shifting back to professional. "The SEC has already subpoenaed QuantumSphere's internal communications. All of them."
"That's standard procedure."
"What's not standard is that they've specifically requested all communications between Chen and Dr. Aisha Nair regarding the Q7 processor and quantum memory architecture."
Michael kept his expression neutral, though internally he was connecting dots. Aisha Nair—the engineer who had sent the email about heat dissipation problems. The email Daniel had received before his stock sale.
"That's very specific targeting for the early stages of an investigation," he observed.
"Almost as if they already know what they're looking for." Victoria's implication was clear: the whistleblower had provided detailed information.
"Thank you for the heads-up." Michael signaled for the check. "I should go. I need to speak with my client."
"Of course." Victoria made no move to stop him. "One last thing, Michael. Whatever Chen has told you, assume it's not the whole truth. In my experience, tech executives believe their own mythology. They think they're changing the world, so the rules don't apply to them."
"Speaking from experience?"
"I've prosecuted three Silicon Valley wunderkinds in the past year. All of them genuinely believed they were too brilliant to be convicted." She smiled thinly. "They were wrong."
Michael paid the bill despite Victoria's protest—old habits died hard—and they walked out together. The night air was cool, a rarity in Los Angeles.
"I meant what I said about a fair fight," Victoria said as they waited for the valet to bring their cars. "If you're going to defend Chen, I want you to have all the facts."
"Even if that makes your future colleagues' job harder?"
"Justice isn't about winning cases. It's about the right outcome." She studied him. "Something you used to believe too."
"I still believe it. We just disagree on what 'right' means in a system designed to be adversarial."
Her car arrived first—a sensible Audi, practical but with enough performance to satisfy her competitive nature. Before getting in, she turned to him.
"Be careful, Michael. This case has career-ending potential for everyone involved."
"Is that concern I hear, Counselor?"
"Professional courtesy." But her slight smile suggested otherwise. "Goodnight, Michael."
As she drove away, Michael's phone buzzed again. Another text from Abigail: *Urgent. Meeting in the office in 30 minutes?*
He texted back a confirmation as the valet brought his Aston Martin around. Whatever Abigail had found on Senator Harrington must be significant for her to call a late-night meeting.
The drive back to downtown took twenty minutes at this hour. Michael used the time to process what Victoria had told him. If she was right—and she usually was—the SEC investigation was merely the opening move in a much larger game. The real target wasn't Daniel's ill-timed stock sale but QuantumSphere's government contracts and the security vulnerabilities they'd allegedly concealed.
This changed everything. Securities fraud could be defended with technical arguments about materiality and knowledge. Knowingly selling flawed security systems to the government was a different matter entirely—one with potential espionage implications.
Michael pulled into the underground parking garage beneath the Wakefield & Lowell building. At this hour, the garage was nearly empty, his footsteps echoing as he walked to the elevator. He used his key card to access the office floors after hours.
The 35th floor was dimly lit, the cleaning crew having finished their nightly rounds. Michael made his way to his office, where he found Abigail waiting, still in her work clothes, her laptop open on his conference table.
"This better be good," he said by way of greeting. "I was having a very informative dinner."
"With ADA Stone?" Abigail raised an eyebrow at his surprise. "Your dinner reservation was on your calendar. I make it my business to know these things."
"That's either impressive or disturbing."
"Both, probably." She turned her laptop toward him. "I found something interesting about Senator Harrington. Three months ago, his son-in-law joined Quantum Horizons as their Chief Strategy Officer."
"Quantum Horizons?" Michael frowned. "They're—"
"QuantumSphere's main competitor," Abigail finished. "And two weeks ago, the Senator had a private meeting with SEC Director Callahan. No aides present, no official agenda."
"That's circumstantial at best."
"There's more." She pulled up another document. "Harrington sits on the Intelligence Committee as well as Banking. Last month, he requested a classified briefing on quantum encryption vulnerabilities from the NSA."
Michael sat down, the implications sinking in. "The timing aligns with Daniel's Senate testimony."
"Exactly. Chen embarrasses Harrington in a public hearing, questioning the Senator's understanding of quantum technology. Weeks later, the SEC launches an investigation into QuantumSphere, with unusual coordination from the Justice Department."
"You've been busy."
"I have sources from my SEC days." Abigail closed her laptop. "There's something else you should know. Derek Wilson was asking questions about the Chen case today. Specifically, about QuantumSphere's government contracts."
Michael frowned. "How would Derek even know about those? They're not public knowledge."
"That's what concerned me." Abigail's expression was serious. "Someone's feeding him information."
"James Wakefield?"
"Possibly. Or someone at the SEC." She hesitated. "There's a rumor that Derek's been meeting with Director Callahan socially. His sister works at the Commission."
Michael absorbed this. Office politics were always a factor at Wakefield & Lowell, but this suggested something more calculated. Derek wasn't just angling for a high-profile case; he was positioning himself with information from the SEC.
"Keep an eye on him," Michael said. "Discreetly."
"Already am." Abigail gathered her things. "What did Victoria Stone want?"
Michael considered how much to share. Abigail was sharp and trustworthy, but the fewer people who knew about the national security angle, the better.
"She confirmed the SEC is working closely with the Justice Department. The investigation is being driven from the top."
"That's unusual for a first-time securities case."
"Very." Michael stood. "I need you to do something else for me. Find everything you can on Dr. Aisha Nair, QuantumSphere's lead engineer. Focus on her work on the Q7 processor and something called 'quantum memory architecture.'"
Abigail nodded, making a note. "You think she's the whistleblower?"
"I think the SEC is very interested in her communications with Daniel. That's either because she's the whistleblower or because she knows something important."
"I'll see what I can find." She paused at the door. "The charity gala tomorrow night—Director Callahan will definitely be there. So will Senator Harrington."
"Perfect opportunity for some informal discovery."
"Just be careful. If they're coordinating against Chen, they'll be watching you too."
After Abigail left, Michael turned to the window, looking out at the city lights. The case was growing more complex by the hour. What had seemed like a straightforward insider trading investigation now involved national security, political vendettas, and potential espionage.
He needed to talk to Daniel again—immediately. His friend had significantly understated the situation, either out of naivety or calculation. Either way, Michael couldn't defend him effectively without the full picture.
He pulled out his phone and called Daniel's private number. It went straight to voicemail. He tried again with the same result.
Frowning, Michael sent a text: *Need to talk ASAP. Call me regardless of time.*
He waited five minutes with no response, then called Sophia Chen.
"Mr. Sinclair," she answered, her voice alert despite the late hour. "What can I do for you?"
"I need to speak with Daniel immediately. He's not answering his phone."
"He's in a secure facility at the moment. No personal electronics allowed."
"At this hour?"
"We're dealing with the vulnerability issue you discussed earlier." Her voice was carefully neutral. "He should be available in the morning."
"This can't wait until morning. The SEC investigation is more serious than we initially understood."
There was a pause. "What have you learned?"
"Not over the phone. I need to speak with Daniel in person. Tonight."
Another pause. "I'll see what I can do. Where are you now?"
"My office. I'll wait here."
"I'll call you back within the hour."
Michael ended the call, uneasy about Sophia's measured response. Something felt off, but he couldn't pinpoint what.
While waiting, he turned to the flash drive Sophia had provided earlier, plugging it into his computer. It contained thousands of documents—emails, meeting minutes, technical specifications, stock transaction records. He focused on communications involving Aisha Nair, searching for the email Daniel had mentioned.
He found it quickly enough:
```
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]; [email protected]
Subject: Q7 Heat Dissipation Concerns
Date: March 12, 2014 - 9:47 AM
Daniel and Wei,
The latest tests on the Q7 quantum core are showing concerning heat dissipation patterns at sustained operations above 60% capacity. The superconducting elements are maintaining stability, but the interface with conventional components is creating thermal management issues we hadn't anticipated.
We're exploring solutions, but this might impact the timeline for full production. I've attached the test results and three potential modification approaches.
I recommend we discuss this at today's engineering review.
Regards,
Aisha Nair, Ph.D.
Principal Quantum Architect
QuantumSphere, Inc.
```
The email was exactly as Daniel had described it—concerning but not definitive. It mentioned potential timeline impacts without specifying delays or solutions. A good defense attorney could argue this didn't constitute material information requiring disclosure.
But there was something else—something Daniel hadn't mentioned. Michael checked the email properties and noticed it had been marked as "read" just seventeen minutes after being sent. Daniel had opened the email, despite claiming he hadn't reviewed it before his stock sale.
Michael continued searching, looking for any reply from Daniel. He found none, which aligned with Daniel's claim that he hadn't responded. But he did find a calendar entry showing Daniel had attended the engineering review meeting mentioned in Aisha's email—the same day as his stock sale.
This was problematic. Daniel had characterized the email as something he'd barely registered, but the evidence suggested otherwise. He'd read the email and attended a meeting specifically about the issue, all before his stock sale executed.
Michael's phone rang. Sophia Chen.
"Daniel can meet you at the office in thirty minutes," she said without preamble.
"I'll be here."
"Mr. Sinclair..." She hesitated. "May I ask what this is about?"
"The SEC is specifically targeting communications between Daniel and Dr. Nair regarding the Q7 processor. They already know about the heat dissipation email and the engineering review meeting."
Sophia was silent for a moment. "I see. I'll make sure Daniel understands the urgency."
After hanging up, Michael continued reviewing documents. He found the minutes from the engineering review meeting, which included a detailed discussion of the heat dissipation issue. Daniel had not only attended but had asked specific questions about potential delays and market implications.
The picture was becoming clearer, and it wasn't favorable to Daniel's defense. He had possessed material non-public information about potential production delays before his stock sale. The question was whether he had acted on that information intentionally—and whether the SEC could prove it.
Michael was still reviewing documents when his office door opened. Daniel entered, looking tired and tense, with Sophia Chen following close behind.
"This better be important," Daniel said, dropping into a chair. "We're in the middle of a critical security patch implementation."
"For the vulnerability you didn't tell me about?" Michael closed his laptop. "The one the government already knows about?"
Daniel and Sophia exchanged glances.
"How did you learn about that?" Sophia asked.
"That's not important. What matters is that you withheld critical information." Michael fixed his gaze on Daniel. "The SEC investigation isn't just about insider trading. It's about the encryption vulnerabilities you sold to the government."
Daniel paled slightly. "That's impossible. The vulnerabilities were discovered after the systems were deployed."
"That's not what their whistleblower says." Michael leaned forward. "They claim QuantumSphere knew about the flaws before selling the systems."
"That's absurd," Daniel protested. "We would never knowingly—"
"Daniel." Sophia's voice cut through his denial. "We should discuss this privately before responding further."
"There's no time for that," Michael said. "The SEC has already subpoenaed your communications with Aisha Nair. They're building a case that goes well beyond securities fraud. This has national security implications."
Daniel ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration Michael recognized from their college days. "This is a witch hunt. We discovered the vulnerability three months ago during a routine security audit. We immediately began developing a patch."
"Did you immediately inform your government clients?"
Daniel hesitated. "We wanted to have the patch ready first. To avoid unnecessary panic."
"That decision may have violated your contractual obligations," Michael pointed out. "And possibly federal law."
"The vulnerability is theoretical," Sophia interjected. "It would require a quantum computer with at least 500 qubits to exploit. No such computer exists yet."
"Except QuantumSphere is building a 650-qubit system right now, aren't you?" Michael watched their reactions. "How long before your competitors reach that threshold? Or a foreign government?"
Daniel looked away. "Two years. Maybe less."
"And in the meantime, government communications that were supposed to be quantum-encrypted are potentially vulnerable." Michael shook his head. "This changes everything about your defense strategy."
"How so?" Sophia asked.
"The insider trading investigation gives the SEC leverage. They'll use it to force admissions about the encryption vulnerabilities, which could then lead to False Claims Act charges, contract fraud, even espionage implications if foreign entities exploited the flaws."
"That's ridiculous," Daniel said. "We're the victims here. Someone is trying to destroy my company."
"Someone with connections to Senator Harrington," Michael agreed. "But that doesn't change the facts. You possessed material non-public information before your stock sale, and you failed to disclose known vulnerabilities to government clients."
"So what do we do?" Daniel asked, his earlier defiance giving way to concern.
"First, we need to know who the whistleblower is." Michael turned to Sophia. "Any candidates?"
"We've been trying to identify them since receiving the target letter," she replied. "The most likely is Wei Zhang, our CTO. He opposed taking the company public and has been increasingly critical of our government contract focus."
"What about Aisha Nair?"
"Possible, but less likely. She's dedicated to her research and generally stays out of corporate politics."
Michael made a mental note to investigate both more thoroughly. "Second, we need to get ahead of the encryption issue. Voluntary disclosure to the affected agencies, with a clear timeline for the patch implementation."
"That could trigger contract penalties," Sophia pointed out.
"Better than criminal charges." Michael turned to Daniel. "And we need to address the stock sale. The timing looks bad, especially with evidence that you were aware of potential production issues."
"I didn't sell because of that email," Daniel insisted. "It was a scheduled sale under my 10b5-1 plan."
"A plan you established knowing the Q7 was facing development challenges," Michael countered. "The SEC will argue you set up the plan itself with material non-public information."
Daniel looked stricken. "So I'm screwed either way?"
"Not necessarily. But we need to change our approach." Michael outlined his thinking. "Instead of denying knowledge, we acknowledge you were aware of potential issues but didn't consider them material enough to constitute inside information. The heat dissipation concerns were one of dozens of technical challenges being addressed simultaneously, none of which individually warranted public disclosure."
"That's actually true," Daniel said. "We're always dealing with technical issues during development."
"Meanwhile, we cooperate fully with the encryption vulnerability investigation. We position QuantumSphere as responsible actors who identified a theoretical flaw and developed a solution before any actual breach occurred."
Sophia nodded slowly. "That could work. But it requires admitting some level of knowledge about the Q7 issues."
"Partial admissions are better than being caught in lies," Michael said. "Especially when the SEC already has the evidence."
Daniel stood and paced the office. "This is insane. We're creating technology that's never existed before. Of course there are issues and vulnerabilities. That's the nature of innovation."
"The law doesn't make exceptions for innovators, Daniel." Michael's tone was firm. "You're running a public company with government contracts. Different rules apply."
"So what's our next step?" Sophia asked.
"I need to know everything—and I mean everything—about both issues. No more surprises." Michael fixed Daniel with a hard stare. "Full disclosure, now, or I walk away from this case."
Daniel nodded reluctantly. "Alright. Full disclosure."
For the next two hours, they went through every detail of the Q7 development issues and the encryption vulnerabilities. Daniel was more forthcoming now, describing the technical challenges in detail and acknowledging that he had been concerned about potential delays before his stock sale.
The encryption vulnerability was more complex. It involved a theoretical attack vector that could only be exploited with quantum computing power that didn't yet exist commercially. QuantumSphere had discovered it during internal testing but had decided to develop a patch before informing their government clients—a decision that looked increasingly problematic in hindsight.
By the time they finished, it was past midnight. Michael had filled pages of notes and had a clearer picture of both the case against Daniel and potential defense strategies.
"Get some sleep," he told Daniel as they prepared to leave. "Tomorrow's going to be a long day."
"What are you going to do?" Daniel asked.
"Prepare for war." Michael gathered his notes. "The charity gala tomorrow night is our first opportunity to gauge the opposition. Director Callahan and Senator Harrington will both be there."
"Should I attend?" Daniel looked uncertain.
"Absolutely not. Stay as far away as possible." Michael turned to Sophia. "But you should come. We need to present a united front."
She nodded. "I'll be there."
After they left, Michael remained in his office, staring out at the city. The case had evolved from a straightforward securities matter into something far more complex—a convergence of legal, political, and national security concerns.
He thought about Victoria's warning: *This case has career-ending potential for everyone involved.* She wasn't wrong. If Daniel had knowingly sold flawed encryption systems to the government, the consequences would be severe. If Michael defended him too aggressively, he risked his own reputation and potentially even legal exposure.
But that was the job—standing between his client and the machinery of prosecution, regardless of personal risk. It was what separated great lawyers from merely good ones.
Michael gathered his things and headed for the elevator. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new information, and new strategies. The charity gala would be his first opportunity to take the measure of their opponents face to face.
As the elevator descended to the parking garage, Michael found himself looking forward to it. High stakes, powerful opponents, complex legal and ethical questions—these were the elements that made the practice of law more than just a profession to him. They made it a calling.
And Michael Sinclair always answered when called.