Chapter 13
A low, continuous beep filled the control room as the massive data transfer progressed across the encrypted fiber-optic network. On the surrounding monitors, the live feeds from dozens of luxury homes began to glitch, one by one flashing a bold red SYSTEM TERMINATED notice across the glass screens.
Outside the heavy steel door, the hydraulic breaching tool screamed as it bit into the alloy frame. A shower of sparks sprayed through the upper seam of the door, accompanied by the muffled shouts of the tactical officers working frantically to force entry.
“Dad, it’s almost finished,” Leo said, staring up at the progress bar on the main monitor, which ticked steadily upward: 92%... 95%... 98%...
Ricardo kept his eyes on the door, positioning himself between the entrance and his son. He grabbed a heavy metal diagnostic wand from the console table, gripping it like a club. He knew that when that door finally breached, Elena and her operatives wouldn't bother trying to negotiate.
“Leo, as soon as that bar hits one hundred percent, I want you to run to the emergency ventilation shaft in the corner,” Ricardo instructed in a low, firm voice. “Don’t look back. Crawl straight down. It leads directly to the ground-floor courtyard where the local police precinct’s perimeter units are waiting.”
“I’m not leaving you, Dad,” Leo said fiercely, shaking his head. “We promised we’d find Mom together.”
“We did find her, Leo,” Ricardo whispered, his voice catching as he looked at the digital portrait of Sarah that had just appeared on the main screen as part of the decryption protocol. “She made sure of that.”
The progress bar hit 100%.
A crisp confirmation tone chimed through the room, followed by an automated digital announcement: DATA ARCHIVE SECURED AND TRANSMITTED TO FEDERAL LAW ENFORCEMENT. FACILITY LOCKDOWN PROTOCOL ACTIVE.
With a deafening crash, the heavy steel door finally buckled inward, tearing off its reinforced hinges and slamming onto the control room floor in a cloud of dust and acrid smoke.
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Through the haze stepped Elena, her red sleeveless dress smudged with soot and her hair disheveled. Her expression of cold control was completely gone, replaced by a mask of unadulterated fury as she raised a heavy service pistol directly toward Ricardo’s chest.
“It’s over, Ricardo,” Elena snarled, her finger tightening on the trigger. “You don't walk out of here with this.”
