Chapter 23 - The Frozen Fortress
The flight to Reykjavik was brutally cold and terrifyingly quiet. The FBI had secured a specialized tactical extraction team, operating under the radar of international media.
We landed at a desolate, snow-covered airstrip just outside the city. The landscape was breathtakingly stark—endless fields of white ice and jagged, dark volcanic rock.
We moved out in a convoy of heavy-duty, snow-tracked SUVs. The abandoned industrial sector was located near the freezing coast. Massive, rusted warehouses stood like decaying skeletons against the brutal, howling wind.
"Thermal imaging confirms heavily concentrated heat signatures originating from warehouse section D," the tactical team leader reported over the radio. "That’s his crypto-farm. The servers are running hot."
"We move in quietly," Hayes ordered, loading his weapon. "Marcus is a coward, but a cornered coward is unpredictable."
We breached the massive warehouse through a rusted side door. The interior was a stark contrast to the freezing weather outside. It was sweltering hot, filled with the deafening, mechanical roar of thousands of computer servers churning through massive amounts of data.
I followed closely behind Hayes and the tactical team, my heart pounding in rhythm with the roaring servers. We navigated through the endless rows of glowing computer towers until we reached a glass-enclosed control room elevated in the center of the warehouse.
Sitting at the main terminal, frantically typing on a keyboard, was Marcus Thorne.
"FBI! Step away from the console!" Hayes roared, his weapon trained directly on the accountant.
Marcus jumped, spinning around in his chair. He looked terrible. His face was pale, unshaven, and dripping with sweat. When he saw me standing behind the heavily armed federal agents, his eyes widened in absolute, terrified shock.
"Maya," Marcus stammered, raising his hands in surrender. "You... you shouldn't be here."
"I told you I’d drag you down with me, Marcus," I said coldly, stepping forward. "Did you really think you could use me to clean up your mess?"
"I was trying to survive!" Marcus screamed defensively. "Julian was going to kill me! I had to take control of the network!"
"You ordered a hit squad into a residential building," Hayes growled, pulling out his handcuffs. "You aren't a survivor, Marcus. You're a terrorist."
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As Hayes moved forward to arrest him, Marcus lunged for a massive red kill-switch on the console.
"If I go down, the money burns with me!" Marcus yelled.
