Chapter 4 - THE DIGITAL HOSTAGEThe loading bar on the massive wall monitor ticked upward with agonizing slowness.
14%... 19%...
Ethan’s mind raced. Every line of code, every encryption protocol he had written flashed through his consciousness. He had built backdoors into his software for enterprise clients, but he had never imagined he would need to hack his own digital fortress to stop a sociopath.
"Cancel the transfer, Celeste," Ethan demanded, his voice steady despite the adrenaline roaring in his veins. He took another step forward, his eyes locked on her hand hovering over the keyboard.
"Step back, Ethan!" Celeste shrieked, her composure finally shattering as she grabbed the heavy silver letter opener from the desk and pointed it directly at his chest. Her hands were shaking violently now. "One more step and I hit the purge button. I'll wipe the core servers clean. Your company goes bankrupt by morning, your investors pull out, and you and your precious little daughter will be left penniless on the streets."
Ethan paused. He knew she wasn't bluffing about the server wipe capability. The architecture of his firm's proprietary cloud infrastructure included a scorched-earth protocol designed to protect intellectual property from corporate espionage. If triggered, it would take years to rebuild, destroying everything he had sacrificed his youth to create.
28%... 33%...
"You think money is going to save you from what's coming?" Ethan asked, his voice dropping into a dangerous, hypnotic cadence designed to distract her. "Even if you get the funds, Celeste, Interpol is already tracking your passport numbers. The moment you cross international airspace, you'll be flagged."
"Let them try," Celeste laughed hysterically, her eyes wild. "With fifty million dollars in a blind trust, I can buy a new identity, a new face, a new life anywhere on earth. And as for your daughter..." She sneered. "Well, she was getting a little too observant anyway. Children forget things quickly when they're placed in the right boarding school. Far, far away."
That was the breaking point. The mention of Sophie sealed her fate.
Ethan didn't hesitate. Instead of rushing forward into the path of the blade, he lunged sideways, his shoulder crashing into a heavy oak shelving unit packed with old ledgers and technical manuals. The shelf tipped over with a deafening crash, sending an avalanche of heavy books tumbling across the stone floor directly toward Celeste's feet.
Startled by the sudden commotion, Celeste lost her footing on the slick stone, her high heel catching on a thick leather-bound volume. She stumbled backward, her arm flailing wildly as she tried to catch her balance against the edge of the server rack.
39%...
Ethan didn't wait for her to recover. He sprinted across the room, diving over the mahogany desk just as Celeste regained her balance and lunged forward with the silver dagger.
The blade grazed his shoulder, tearing through his shirt and biting into the flesh, but Ethan ignored the pain. He slammed his weight into her midsection, tackling her hard against the floor. The red USB drive flew from her hand, skittering across the smooth stone tiles and disappearing beneath a heavy server cabinet.
"No! No, you idiot!" Celeste screamed, clawing at his face, her fingernails drawing deep lines of blood across his cheek.
Ethan pinned her wrists to the floor with one hand, his forearm pressing firmly against her collarbone to keep her immobilized. He reached out with his free hand, blindly feeling beneath the server cabinet until his fingers brushed against the smooth plastic casing of the USB drive.
He pulled it out just as the wall monitor flashed a bright, warning crimson color:
TRANSFER INTERRUPTED. CONNECTION TERMINATED.
Panting heavily, Ethan looked down at Celeste, who was now glaring up at him with pure, venomous hatred. Her chest heaved, her hair disheveled, the mask of the sweet, grieving stepmother utterly incinerated.
"It's over, Celeste," Ethan said, his voice cold as ice. He pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing a direct emergency dispatch number. "Local authorities and federal marshals are already on their way. You're going away for a very, very long time."
May you like
Just as he spoke the words, the heavy mahogany double doors of the subterranean vault banged open.
Standing in the doorway wasn't the police. It was Richard, who had apparently recovered from his concussion much faster than expected—and in his hand, he was holding Sophie.
