Elena looked at Caleb, awe and fierce pride swelling in her chest. "We need a tactical team that operates off the books. And we need heavy firepower."
THE CHAMPAGNE VERDICT: A LEGACY OF SHATTERED GLASS AND STOLEN PROMISES
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The heavy, broken studio doors swung open again. Dominic Vale stepped into the room, flanked by Luca and half a dozen heavily armed cartel enforcers carrying suppressed submachine guns and breaching charges.
"You already have an army," Dominic growled, racking a shell into his tactical shotgun. He looked at Caleb, the fierce, protective instinct of a father overriding everything else. "Nobody takes my family. Show us the door, Caleb."
The digital war room inside the Sterling-Brooks private jet was a chaotic symphony of encrypted communications and tactical planning. As the aircraft tore through the night sky toward New York, Elena sat at the terminal with the encrypted hard drive Julian had given them.
"He wants the billion dollars," Elena murmured, her fingers flying across the mechanical keyboard. "He set up a localized, closed-loop receiver in the Third Archive. The moment the money hits his account, it automatically initiates the purge protocol for the facility."
"So if we pay him, Hannah dies anyway," Alexander deduced, his jaw tightening into rigid granite.
"Julian is a sociopath, not a businessman," Elena confirmed. "But he made a mistake. He assumes we are playing defense."
Elena pulled up a secondary coding interface. She didn't just understand Gideon’s financial architecture; she understood how to dismantle it.
"I am not transferring the money," Elena announced, her eyes locked on the cascading green code. "I am accepting his handshake protocol, but I am reversing the data stream. Instead of sending a billion dollars, I am injecting a localized, military-grade malware package directly into the Third Archive’s central mainframe."
"What will it do?" Dominic asked, leaning over her shoulder, his combat gear clinking softly.
"It will override the electronic locking mechanisms on every single door in that facility," Elena said with a cold, ruthless smile. "When Julian thinks he is getting his money, he is actually unlocking the front door for us. And it will permanently disable the purge protocol. He won't be able to destroy the evidence, and he won't be able to execute Hannah."
Caleb watched the screen, dressed in a sleek, black tactical vest over his clothes. He wasn't a soldier, but he refused to stay behind. He had the 3D map of the facility downloaded onto a reinforced tactical tablet strapped to his forearm.
He signed to his father: "We have exactly three minutes from the moment Elena triggers the malware before Julian realizes the system is compromised. We have to be inside the walls before he manually reboots the servers."
"Then we don't knock," Dominic said, a dark, thrilled anticipation burning in his eyes.
The jet touched down at a private airstrip in New Jersey. Three unmarked, armored black vans were waiting on the tarmac. The team loaded in, moving with silent, devastating efficiency. They sped through the Lincoln Tunnel, racing toward the desolate, rusted monoliths of the Brooklyn Navy Yard.
THE CHAMPAGNE VERDICT: A LEGACY OF SHATTERED GLASS AND STOLEN PROMISES