Chapter 41:The Counterpunch

Leah was eating toast and reviewing her notes when her phone buzzed. A text from Megan: *You need to see this. NYT business section. Online now.* Leah opened the New York Times website on her laptop. The headline was at the top of the business section: **COSTA HOLDINGS FACES REGULATORY SCRUTINY OVER NEXGEN THERAPEUTICS ACQUISITION** The byline was Paul Kerrigan — the same journalist Kevin Marsh had approached four months ago. The article was 2,400 words, and it was devastating. Kerrigan reported that the SEC had opened a preliminary inquiry into Costa Holdings' acquisition of NexGen Therapeutics, focusing on whether the company had adequately disclosed known regulatory concerns to investors before closing the deal. The article cited "sources familiar with the inquiry" and included specific details: the FDA inspection letter from January 2023, the discrepancy between reported Phase III trial data and raw patient records, and the email chain showing that senior executives — including Antonio Costa and Sebastian Costa — had been informed of the FDA concern before the acquisition closed. The article also mentioned Hunt Capital's due diligence review of Thorne Group, framing it as part of a broader examination of the family's financial practices. It didn't name Ethan directly, but it described Hunt Capital as "a leading investment bank with a reputation for rigorous corporate governance reviews." Leah read the article twice. Her first reaction was cold satisfaction — the NYT story was the public escalation she and Ethan had discussed. The information was out. The SEC was involved. Sebastian and Antonio were exposed. Her second reaction was fear. The article didn't mention Catherine Marsh. It didn't mention Leah Chen. It didn't mention any source inside Thorne Group. But the level of detail — the FDA letter, the email chain, the specific dates — would tell Sebastian exactly where the leak had come from. Someone inside Thorne Group had accessed those documents and shared them with the press. Sebastian would be looking for the leak. And he would start with the newest employees — the people who had joined recently enough to be potential plants, and recently enough to have been the source of the information. Catherine Marsh had joined eight days ago. Leah's toast sat untouched on the plate. She picked up her phone and called Ethan. He answered immediately. "I assume you've seen it," she said. "I saw it before it went live. Kerrigan sent me an advance copy last night." "You could have warned me." "There was nothing to warn you about. The article doesn't reference any internal source. Kerrigan's sourcing is attributed to 'regulatory officials' and 'people familiar with the matter' — standard journalistic framing. Sebastian will suspect a leak, but he won't be able to trace it to you." "You're underestimating Sebastian." "I'm not. I'm assessing the risk. The FDA letter is public record — anyone could have obtained it through a FOIA request. The email chain is harder to explain, but Kerrigan has sources at the SEC who could have provided it independently. The article is clean." Leah was not reassured. Sebastian was not a forensic analyst — he was a predator with resources and a personal vendetta. He would look at the timing, the specificity, and the fact that the NYT story aligned perfectly with Hunt Capital's due diligence review, and he would draw his own conclusions. "What happens now?" she asked. "The SEC inquiry will proceed. If they find evidence of disclosure failures, they'll issue a formal investigation. Costa Holdings' stock will take a hit. Sebastian will be distracted defending himself." "And if Sebastian decides to retaliate against the source — real or suspected?" "Then we deal with it. But retaliation against a whistleblower would only add to his legal exposure. His lawyers will advise him to focus on the SEC inquiry, not on hunting leaks." "Sebastian doesn't always listen to his lawyers." A pause. "No. He doesn't." Leah hung up and stared at the ceiling. The article was good news in the abstract — the conspiracy was being exposed, the regulatory machinery was engaged, the public narrative was shifting. But in the specific, concrete reality of Catherine Marsh's life inside Thorne Group, the article was a threat. She needed to be more careful. She needed to make sure that her ThorneVault searches, her document retrieval requests, and her work patterns didn't leave a trail that pointed to Catherine Marsh as the source. She got dressed and went to work. --- 9:45 AM. 34th floor. The atmosphere on the 34th floor was different. People were clustered in small groups, speaking in low voices. Several analysts had the NYT article open on their screens. The usual corporate hum had been replaced by a nervous buzz. Leah sat at her desk and opened her email. There was a message from David Choi, sent at 8:15 AM, addressed to the entire Corporate Strategy department: *Team — I'm aware of the New York Times article regarding Costa Holdings and NexGen Therapeutics. This is a media matter, and the executive office is handling the response. For now, please continue your normal work and direct any external inquiries to Communications. David.* Normal work. Leah appreciated the directive. It was an instruction to stay calm and stay invisible — exactly what Catherine Marsh needed to do. She opened ThorneVault and began working on the healthcare analysis. But her attention was split — half on the data, half on the people around her. Who was reading the article? Who was talking about it? Who was looking at her? At 10:30 AM, Priya stopped by her cubicle. "Catherine. A moment." They walked to a conference room. Priya closed the door. "I want to be direct with you," Priya said. "You've been here eight days. The NYT article mentions documents that could only have come from inside Thorne Group. I'm not accusing you of anything — I'm telling you that people are going to be asking questions, and new hires are always the first to be scrutinized." "I understand." "If anyone approaches you — from HR, from Legal, from the executive floor — you tell them you haven't shared any information with anyone outside the company. You refer them to David or to Communications. You don't speculate, you don't explain, and you don't volunteer anything." "Understood." Priya studied her for a moment. "You're not nervous." "I'm focused on the analysis you assigned me. Everything else is noise." Priya nodded slowly. "Good. Keep it that way." She left the conference room. Leah sat alone and breathed. Priya was not suspicious — she was protective. The team lead was shielding her newest analyst from the fallout. That was useful. But Priya's warning confirmed Leah's instinct: the scrutiny was coming. New hires would be questioned. Catherine Marsh's background would be examined more closely. The Sterling background check had been thorough, but it wasn't designed to withstand a hostile investigation by Sebastian Costa's lawyers. --- 12:15 PM. Cafeteria. Leah was eating her salad when Rachel Okonkwo appeared again. This time, Rachel sat down without asking. "You've seen the article." "Yes." "Sebastian Costa is going to lose his mind. I heard he's already called three board meetings for this week." Rachel stirred her soup. "The interesting thing isn't the SEC inquiry — everyone expected that. The interesting thing is the timing. The article dropped the same week that Hunt Capital's due diligence team started asking questions about the Foundation's PRI program." Leah kept her expression neutral. Hunt Capital's interest in the PRI program was supposed to be confidential. If Rachel knew about it, the information was leaking from somewhere. "How do you know about Hunt Capital's review?" Leah asked. Rachel shrugged. "Corporate Development works with the Foundation's investment team on acquisition due diligence. When Hunt Capital started requesting Foundation financial records last month, people noticed. David mentioned it in a staff meeting." David Choi knew about Hunt Capital's Foundation review. That was expected — David was the department head, and he would have been briefed. But if the information was circulating in staff meetings, it would eventually reach the executive floor. And from there, it would reach Sebastian. "Are you concerned?" Leah asked. "About what?" "About the scrutiny. The SEC inquiry, the NYT article, the Hunt Capital review. It's a lot of pressure on the company." Rachel looked at her with an expression that was hard to read — part amusement, part warning. "Catherine. I've been at this company for six years. I've seen Martha Thorne restructure a $200 million portfolio over a weekend. I've seen Arthur Webb bury a regulatory inquiry so deep that the SEC forgot it existed. I've seen this company absorb crises that would have destroyed any other organization." She paused. "The Thorne family doesn't panic. They adapt. They control. They survive. Whatever's happening right now — the SEC, the press, Hunt Capital — Martha is already three moves ahead. She's been playing this game since before we were born." Leah absorbed this. Rachel's assessment was probably accurate — Martha was not a woman who reacted to crises. She engineered them, managed them, and used them to consolidate power. The NYT article and the SEC inquiry were noise to Martha — inconvenient, but manageable. But Rachel's confidence in Martha's invincibility was also a vulnerability. If Rachel believed Martha was untouchable, she wouldn't be looking for the cracks. And the cracks were everywhere — if you knew where to look. "One more thing," Rachel said, standing up. "That document retrieval request you submitted — REQ-2024-0347? It's been flagged for review." Leah's stomach dropped. "Flagged by whom?" "Security. Any request for pre-2015 documents from a junior analyst with less than thirty days' tenure gets an extra review. It's standard protocol — nothing personal. But it means your request will take longer. Probably ten to fourteen days instead of five to seven." The retrieval request was delayed. The 36th floor access was pushed back. Leah's window to encounter Geraldine Hoffman was narrowing. "Thank you for telling me," Leah said. Rachel smiled — a thin, knowing smile. "Be careful, Catherine. The 36th floor has a long memory." She walked away. Leah sat alone in the cafeteria, her salad untouched, her mind racing. The retrieval request was flagged. The scrutiny was intensifying. Sebastian was looking for the leak. And Rachel Okonkwo — who had been a potential ally — had just demonstrated that she knew more about Leah's activities than Leah had realized. Was Rachel a source or a sentinel? A colleague with useful information or a surveillance asset assigned to watch the new hire? Leah couldn't tell. And that uncertainty was more dangerous than outright hostility. --- 6:45 PM. Leah's apartment. She called Ethan again. This time, she didn't mince words. "The document retrieval request was flagged by security. It'll take two weeks instead of one. And Rachel Okonkwo knew about the request — she told me in the cafeteria." "Rachel Okonkwo." Ethan's voice was flat. "The Corporate Development analyst." "She knew my request number. REQ-2024-0347. She knew it was for pre-2015 documents. She told me the security review would delay it." "That means she has access to the retrieval logs." "Or someone told her about it." "Either way, she's monitoring your activity. The question is whether she's doing it on her own initiative or on someone's instructions." "She also knew about Hunt Capital's Foundation review. She said David mentioned it in a staff meeting." A pause. "David Choi knows about our review. That's not a surprise — he would have been briefed as department head. But if he's discussing it in staff meetings, the information is spreading faster than I'd like." "Sebastian will hear about it." "Probably already has. But that's not necessarily a problem. Hunt Capital's review is public knowledge — we announced it when we were appointed. The question is whether Sebastian connects our review to the NYT article." "He will. The timing is obvious." "Let him connect it. Hunt Capital is a legitimate due diligence agent with institutional credibility. Sebastian can't touch us without exposing himself to legal retaliation. The risk is to you, not to us." Leah was quiet. He was right. Hunt Capital was shielded by its institutional position. Catherine Marsh was not. "I need to adjust my approach," she said. "The retrieval request is compromised. I can't submit any more document requests that might draw attention. I need to find another way to access the physical archive." "What are you thinking?" "Rachel Okonkwo. She's on the 36th floor. She has level-three access. If she's genuinely concerned about the company's practices — and I think she might be — she could be an ally. But I need to know whether she's been assigned to watch me." "I'll have the background check results tomorrow. If she's clean, we can consider approaching her. If she has any connection to Martha or Sebastian, we back off." "And if the background check is inconclusive?" "Then we wait. The 36th floor isn't going anywhere." Leah almost laughed. The 36th floor was going somewhere — it had already been moved once, from 245 East 54th. If Martha decided to relocate the physical archive again, Catherine Marsh's window would close permanently. "I'll be careful," Leah said. "See that you are." She hung up and opened the Moleskine. *April 2. Day nine.* *NYT article breaks. SEC inquiry into Costa Holdings/NexGen. Sebastian in crisis mode. Scrutiny intensifying on new hires.* *Retrieval request (REQ-2024-0347) flagged by security. 10-14 day delay. 36th floor access pushed back.* *Rachel Okonkwo knows about my retrieval request AND Hunt Capital's Foundation review. She's either an ally with good intelligence or a sentinel assigned to watch me. Background check pending.* *David Choi discussed Hunt Capital review in staff meeting — information spreading.* *Sebastian will connect NYT article to Hunt Capital review. He'll look for internal source. Catherine Marsh is eight days into employment — prime suspect profile.* *Adjustment: reduce ThorneVault searches for sensitive documents. Focus on official work (healthcare analysis, executive briefing prep). No more retrieval requests until security review clears.* *The counterpunch is coming. I need to make sure I'm not standing where it lands.* --- The toast was still on the counter, untouched since morning. Leah threw it away and made a cup of tea. The apartment was quiet. The city hummed beyond the window. Eight days inside Thorne Group, and the walls were already closing in. Not physically — the 34th floor was the same maze of cubicles it had been on day one. But informationally. The retrieval request was flagged. Rachel was watching. Sebastian was hunting. Catherine Marsh needed to become more invisible, not less. She needed to be the most boring, most competent, most forgettable junior analyst in the building. She needed to do her job so well that no one thought to question her presence. And she needed to find another way into the physical archive — one that didn't leave a paper trail. The Voss question was waiting on the 36th floor. And the clock was ticking. ---