Chapter 7 - The ChoiceThe briefing room was dead silent. Agent Vance stared at me, his eyes sharp and calculating.
"Is it true?" Vance asked. "Did you design the cybersecurity architecture for First National?"
"I... I was part of the contract team two years ago," I stammered, my head spinning. "I know the backdoors because I helped write the code. But I can't break into a federal bank! That’s a treasonous felony! I’ll go to prison for the rest of my life!"
"You're not going to break into the bank," Vance said firmly. "We are going to set up a sting operation. We’ll simulate the transfer, track the IP routing destination, and breach their location before they realize the money is fake."
"And if they figure it out before you breach?" I snapped, tears finally spilling down my cheeks. "They will kill them!"
"Your family brought this on themselves, Maya," Vance said, leaning over the table. "They broke into a cartel house, exposed a high-level drop, and then your sister sold you out to a terrorist network to save her own skin. You don't owe them your life."
His words hit me like a physical blow.
He was right. Five years ago, they demanded I give up my house and my future for Clara. Today, Clara handed me over to a cartel to save her own skin. They had spent my entire life viewing me as nothing more than a pawn, a resource to be consumed whenever they needed a savior.
"I won't do the hack," I said softly, wiping my face. "I'll help you catch them. But I won't commit a crime for them."
Vance nodded. "Good. Then let's set the trap."
For the next six hours, I worked alongside the FBI cyber unit, constructing a Trojan horse script disguised as an encrypted wire transfer. It looked real. It felt real. But embedded deep within its code was a self-executing ping that would reveal the exact GPS coordinates of the receiver's server the second they opened the file.
At 4:00 AM, I sent the file to the cartel’s encrypted link.
Ten seconds later, the red dot on the FBI's monitor flashed to life.
May you like
"Got them," the tech specialist yelled. "They’re at an abandoned meatpacking plant near the docks! Five miles out!"
"Tactical teams, move out!" Vance commanded.
