We showered quickly, dressed in professional chic, and hit our first café of the day—fresh croissants, strong café au lait, the Paris street bustle framing our calm before the storm.Inside the hotel lobby, Jeff pulled me into a brief embrace. “Whatever happens today, I’m proud of you. Proud of us.”I closed my eyes and held him. “Let’s do it right.”By mid‑morning, we were at the Olympia Center, where the Paris office shared space with the UN logistics hub we were auditing. The air smelled antiseptic; I’d worn a charcoal dress to signal authority, but the creeping tension in my chest betrayed the morning’s turmoil.Jeff put a reassuring hand on my arm. “Naz is ready.”I gave a quick nod.Naz Richardson, our cybersecurity head, stood by the main console with two analysts, scrolling through logs on three screens.“Patterns we haven’t seen before,” Naz said, her tone grave. “Server bounce timestamps? Addition of phantom authentication tokens. Whoever did this masked their IP but used a
Last Updated : 2025-06-08 Read more