Chapter 11 - The Counter-Strike
The private jet touched down on the tarmac of the private airstrip with a sharp screech of tires against wet concrete. Heavy rain battered the fuselage, creating a chaotic drumbeat against the windows. Inside the cabin, Julian snapped his laptop shut, the screen flashing with a red verification code. He stood up, sliding his black suit jacket over his shoulders, his face carved from absolute stone.
"We don't have much time," Julian said, looking down at Elena. "The federal vault downtown is under lockdown, but your grandfather’s legal team has secured a brief window for biometric verification. If we don't reach the terminal within forty minutes, Clara’s injunction goes into effect permanently."
Elena stood up, smoothing the front of her blue maid uniform—the very uniform she had worn when this entire nightmare began. She looked up at Julian, her dark eyes flashing with a newfound strength that replaced her previous fear. "Let’s go finish this."
They stepped out of the jet into the biting cold rain. A sleek black armored car waited at the foot of the airstrip stairs, its engine idling with a low, threatening growl. The chauffeur held a large black umbrella, shielding them as they hurried across the slick pavement and climbed into the back seat.
Inside the armored vehicle, the screens glowed with live satellite feeds of the federal district downtown. Protestors and media vans swarmed the streets outside the monolithic stone courthouse, cameras flashing incessantly against the rainy backdrop.
"Miss Moretti’s legal team is already inside," the chauffeur announced, keeping his eyes on the road as the car accelerated onto the highway. "They’ve managed to corrupt the primary server feed. The biometric scanners at the main vault entrance are rejecting all level-one clearances."
Julian’s jaw tightened. He pulled a small, encrypted override drive from his pocket. "They can corrupt the software, but they can't override physical hardware. The emergency manual override is located directly behind the grand decorative mirror in the basement intake room."
Elena gasped softly. "The mirror... just like the one in the hotel hallway."
Julian turned to her, his gaze intense and reassuring. "Every property your family ever built had the same architectural signature. A safe harbor hidden behind glass."
The armored car sped through a red light, sirens wailing in the distance as police escorts tried to clear a path through the gridlocked city traffic. Suddenly, a massive black SUV slammed into their rear bumper, sending a violent jolt through the cabin. The tires screeched as the driver fought to maintain control on the slick asphalt.
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Julian threw his arm across Elena’s chest, shielding her from the impact as a second vehicle pulled alongside them, attempting to force their car off the elevated highway.
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