Chapter 7 - The Trap is SprungThe green lines of code raced across the massive wall monitor inside the underground vault, transforming into neat rows of corporate names, Swiss bank routing numbers, and encrypted communications logs.
“It’s working,” Viktor murmured, stepping closer to the screen while clutching his injured shoulder. “Boss, the firewall is breaking down. We’re looking at the complete financial infrastructure of the Syndicate. Every front company, every bribe ledger, every corrupt judge in their pocket—it’s all right here.”
Alistair Vance stood motionless, his arms crossed over his chest, watching the data stream cascade down the display. But instead of triumph, a shadow of unease crossed his hardened features.
“It’s too easy, Viktor,” Alistair said quietly, his eyes narrowing.
Viktor frowned. “Too easy? Boss, we fought our way through a commando squad just to get down here.”
“Exactly,” Alistair replied, turning sharply toward the vault’s reinforced steel door. “The Syndicate knew we had security protocols. They knew this vault was impenetrable from the outside. So why did they send a small cleanup crew instead of blowing the entire estate to the ground with a rocket launcher?”
Viktor’s face drained of color as the tactical reality set in. “Because the commando squad wasn't an assassination team...”
“...it was a decoy,” Alistair finished for him. “They wanted us trapped down here in the vault, relying on the bunker’s internal power grid.”
Before Viktor could reach for his weapon, the overhead fluorescent lights flickered violently twice and then died completely.
Hiss.
A sudden, sharp mechanical sound came from the ventilation grates near the ceiling. A thick, pale white vapor began to hiss into the room, smelling faintly of sweet almonds and chemicals.
“Gas!” Viktor shouted, coughing violently as he instinctively tore off his tactical shirt sleeve and pressed it over Renley’s nose and mouth. “Sealed-room knockout gas! They’ve overridden the bunker’s air filtration system from the main server!”
Renley coughed, her vision instantly blurring as the heavy, sweet vapor filled the confined space. Panic clawed at her chest. She grabbed Alistair’s jacket as her legs grew weak and heavy.
“The flash drive...” Renley gasped, her eyelids drooping. “Mr. Pike’s soup... they’re going to take it back.”
Alistair caught her as she collapsed toward the concrete floor, pulling her small body tightly against his chest. He looked up at the ceiling camera, knowing that somewhere out there, his enemies were watching through the lens, smiling at their victory.
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With his vision swimming and his strength rapidly fading, Alistair reached into his pocket, gripped the flash drive out of the terminal port, and whispered into Viktor’s ear before darkness claimed them both:
“Tell them... Walter always wins in the end.”
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