Chapter 12 - The Safehouse EscapeTwenty minutes later, my black security-armored SUV rolled out of the driveway, guided by two private protection detail cars driven by former military specialists I had hired at dawn.
We weren't running away; we were going on the offensive.
My children sat comfortably in the back row, watching a movie on their tablets. They knew things were intense, but my calm, collected demeanor kept them anchored. Ben leaned over from the front passenger seat, holding his laptop open.
"Mom, I ran the IP address from that incoming call," Ben said, his fingers flying across the trackpad. "The signal bounced from a private server farm in Zurich straight to a commercial warehouse downtown. Room 404, Industrial District."
I glanced sideways at my fifteen-year-old son, feeling a swell of profound pride mixed with guilt that he had to be part of this world. "You traced a high-level cyber syndicate’s phone call before breakfast? Remind me to give you a raise on your allowance."
"Make it a new graphics card, and we have a deal," Ben grinned.
We pulled up to a nondescript, high-rise tech incubator downtown—a building owned by my own corporate subsidiary. The security guards at the door saluted as we walked into the private elevator, bypassing public access codes straight to the penthouse floor.
Clara looked around the high-tech fortress in sheer amazement. Walls of monitors displayed real-time satellite maps, financial tickers, and server logs.
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"This is your secondary headquarters?" Clara asked.
"This is where we build the trap," I replied, sitting down at the central master console and plugging in the encrypted drive. "Viktor wants a war? Let’s show him what happens when a tech executive decides to audit a criminal syndicate."
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