Chapter 7 - The Countdown Begins
The heavy steel door locked into place with a series of automated pneumatic bolts that echoed through the circular vault like gunshots. The red glow from the computer terminal cast long, crimson shadows across the polished metal safety deposit boxes lining the circular walls.
Tariq rushed to the vault door, throwing his weight against the solid steel surface, but it didn't budge an inch. The digital keypad beside the handle flashed a solid, unforgiving crimson, displaying a digital countdown timer: 10:00... 09:59... 09:58...
"He initiated the facility lockdown," Tariq shouted over the rising whine of ventilation systems shutting down overhead. "The oxygen in this vault is vented on a ten-minute cycle during unauthorized security breaches. He's trying to suffocate us out!"
Clara remained standing beside the central pedestal, her gaze fixed on the computer monitor. The file-transfer progress bar was climbing steadily: 74%... 75%... 76%...
"Keep your head, Tariq," Clara said, her voice remarkably steady despite the thin, chilling air beginning to circulate through the room. "Look at the transfer rate. Thomas set this archive to upload directly to the federal prosecutor's public portal the moment the phone made contact with the bank's internal network IP address."
Tariq spun around, rushing back to the pedestal. He stared at the screen, his fingers flying across the auxiliary keyboard attached to the terminal, trying to find an override command.
"Sterling knows the file is uploading," Tariq said, sweat beading on his forehead as the timer hit 07:15. "Look at the firewall logs. He's deploying a counter-protocol to trace our network route and wipe the local memory banks before the upload hits one hundred percent. If he succeeds, not only do we suffocate in here, but the evidence is erased forever."
Clara reached out, her trembling fingers gently touching the shattered glass of the smartphone resting on the metal pedestal.
"He can't wipe it remotely if the phone is disconnected from the local router," Clara whispered, her eyes locking onto a small ethernet cable running from the base of the terminal directly into the side port of her cracked phone.
"If you pull that cable now," Tariq warned, stopping his hands over the keyboard, "the upload stops at whatever percentage it's at. It won't be enough to convict him."
"Then we wait until ninety-nine percent," Clara replied calmly, her gaze unwavering.
The countdown timer ticked down relentlessly: 04:30... 04:29... 04:28... The air in the room grew noticeably heavier, the oxygen thinning as the ventilation scrubbers reversed their intake. Tariq's breathing became shallow and ragged, but he kept his eyes glued to the progress bar: 92%... 93%... 94%...
May you like
Suddenly, the screen flashed a brilliant, blinding white, and a harsh electronic alarm shrieked through the speakers. A bold text prompt appeared across the monitor: FIREWALL BREACH DETECTED. REMOTE WIPE INITIATED IN 10 SECONDS.
---
