Chapter 2: The Glass Fortress**
The underground bunker in the Blue Ridge Mountains hummed with cooling fans and encrypted servers. For three years, Julian had known about Apex Global’s shadow contracts, but in Washington, knowing was dangerous, and proving was fatal. Rory’s notebook wasn't just a child’s diary; Clara Miller had encoded the offshore routing numbers into the margins beside Rory's drawings.
"Look," Rory pointed her small finger at a line of numbers beneath the third star: *2.5, 4.9, 6.7*. "Mom said if she couldn't buy bread, I had to write the secret numbers from her flash drive so she wouldn't forget."
Julian stared at the page, a chilling realization hitting him. Clara had turned her daughter’s innocence into an unhackable vault. The numbers weren't dates; they were coordinates to an off-the-books black site along the Potomac where whistleblowers were held before being deported or silenced.
"Marcus Sterling owns that facility," Agent Miller said, pulling up tactical satellite scans. "Heavy private security, electronic countermeasures, completely off federal records."
"Then we don't use federal channels," Julian said, checking the slide on his Glock. "If the justice system is bought, we deliver justice by hand."
Rory tugged on his jacket sleeve. "Is my mommy hungry too?"
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Julian knelt down until he was eye-level with the girl. For the first time in ten years, the hardened politician felt his chest tighten with genuine grief. "We’re going to get her, Rory. And you’ll never draw another star again."
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