Chapter 22 - The Decryption
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We grabbed the Ledger and sprinted back to the elevator. When the doors opened in the lobby, Silas was standing over the unconscious bodies of two Vance Industries security guards who had apparently been on Marcus's payroll.
"We have a rat problem," Silas grunted, lowering his rifle.
"Marcus is dead in the vault," I said, breathing heavily. "He was working for Victor."
Silas didn't blink. "Then Victor knows we're here. We need to move. Now."
We piled back into the armored van and sped into the rainy night. Instead of returning to the bunker, Silas drove us to a secluded warehouse on the edge of the docks—a temporary safehouse outfitted with military-grade servers.
"We don't have time to negotiate or set traps," I said, plugging the black hard drive into a massive terminal. "If Victor bought my head of security, he can buy anyone. The only way to end this is to destroy his power source."
Mara stood beside me, her hand resting reassuringly on my uninjured shoulder. "How long to decrypt it?"
"It's a military-grade cipher," I muttered, my fingers flying across the keyboard. "Normally, it would take days. But I wrote the encryption code myself three years ago. I left a backdoor."
I typed in a string of complex alphanumeric codes. A progress bar appeared on the screen.
DECRYPTING... 20%... 45%...
"Once it's open, what do you do?" Silas asked, pacing the room with his rifle ready.
"I have a script ready. The moment the file unlocks, it will automatically send the entire Ledger—names, offshore account routing numbers, blackmail material—to the server arrays of the FBI, Interpol, and the IRS," I explained. "Within five minutes, every cartel, politician, and mob boss working with Victor will have their assets frozen. They won't just turn their backs on him; they will actively hunt him down."
DECRYPTING... 85%... 99%...
ACCESS GRANTED.
The screen exploded into thousands of lines of financial data. Billions of dollars in illicit funds flowing across the globe.
I hit the execute key.
TRANSMITTING DATA.
"It's done," I breathed, leaning back in the chair. "Victor is officially a dead man walking."
Suddenly, the heavy metal doors of the warehouse blew inward in a massive explosion. The shockwave threw Mara and me to the floor. Dust, smoke, and debris filled the air.
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Through the clearing smoke, half a dozen men in tactical gear poured into the warehouse, laser sights cutting through the darkness.
And walking behind them, wearing a perfectly tailored black suit, was Victor.
