Chapter 22 - The First Defense
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By nightfall, the peaceful estate was transformed into a command center. Tactical vehicles arrived under the cover of fog, unloading private security contractors clad in unmarked tactical gear. The soft nursery music in Maya’s room was replaced by the low hum of encrypted servers and surveillance monitors.
I sat in the temporary war room, my laptop open, code flying across my screens. Maya slept soundly in a portable crib beside my desk, guarded by two elite operatives.
"You shouldn't be working, Mara," Dad said, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You had a C-section three weeks ago. Your body needs rest."
"My daughter has a target on her back, Dad," I replied without looking up from the keyboard. "Rest is a luxury for people whose ghosts stay dead."
"We've locked down the airspace," Marcus explained, pointing to the primary monitor displaying radar coverage over the English Channel. "No unscheduled aircraft can get within fifty miles of this estate without being intercepted."
"Gabriel Vance isn't coming by air," I pointed out, tracing the satellite routing of the original threat message. "Look at the IP ping. The transmission bounced off a maritime relay near the Falkland Islands. He’s using deep-sea stealth vessels. He’s operating completely off the grid."
"Then we force him onto the grid," Dad said coldly. "He wants your encryption key, Mara. He thinks Maya is your weak spot."
"She isn't my weak spot," I said, turning to look my father dead in the eye. "She’s my reason to burn his entire empire to the ground."
May you like
Dad smiled—a dark, proud expression. "That’s my girl. Tell me what you need."
"I need access to the Swiss bank accounts Silas Vance thought he hid from the FBI," I demanded. "If Gabriel is operational, someone is paying his fuel bills. I’m going to starve his fleet."
