Chapter 19
"Copy the Apex Holdings ledgers! Ignore everything else!" Marisela shouted over the blaring digital alarm, pointing frantically at the specific folder on the monitor.
Mateo’s hands moved with terrifying, desperate speed, battling the aggressive malware that was rapidly eating through his bypass codes. "They are actively corrupting the files as I download them! I have to isolate the data stream!" he yelled, sweat pouring profusely down his forehead.
The progress bar on the screen crawled agonizingly slowly: 12%... 34%... 58%...
The temperature of the silver hard drive was physically rising, becoming hot to the touch as its internal processors overloaded in an attempt to fry the memory banks. Valentina gripped my arm tightly, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. If we lost these files, we lost our only definitive link between Vargas and the cartel.
82%... 91%...
"They've breached my firewall!" Mateo screamed as two of his auxiliary laptops suddenly went entirely black, permanently bricked by the invasive counter-attack. "I'm cutting the hardline connection right now!"
Mateo violently yanked the primary connection cable out of the silver hard drive just as a small puff of acrid, grey smoke erupted from its ventilation ports. The drive was completely destroyed, its internal components melted into useless slag.
We all stared at the remaining, operational laptop in stunned, heavy silence. The screen blinked, and a single, uncorrupted spreadsheet file appeared on the desktop.
"Did we get it?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Mateo let out a long, shaky breath, wiping the sweat from his eyes. He clicked on the file. "We got a fraction of the total database. But we got the primary ledger for Apex Holdings. Look at this."
He highlighted a specific column of massive, multi-million dollar wire transfers dating back over fifteen years. "The money didn't just stay offshore. It was routinely routed back into Mexico through a supposedly legitimate charitable foundation. A foundation completely owned and operated by Senator Roberto Vargas."
It was the absolute, undeniable proof we needed. Vargas was actively laundering the cartel’s blood money through his own political charities, and using Apex Holdings to illegally seize properties like my father’s land in Coyoacán.
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"It's incredible," Marisela whispered, staring at the screen with predatory satisfaction. "But there is a problem. The final, critical transfer—the one that specifically funded the hitmen twenty-two years ago—is locked behind a secondary, personalized alphanumeric password. The malware corrupted the decryption key for that specific cell. We can see the account exists, but we can't open the document to prove Vargas ordered the murder."
"Only one person knows the personalized passwords for this specific ledger," I said, a cold, heavy realization settling over me. I looked at Valentina, who nodded grimly in agreement. I had to go back to the prison. I had to make a deal with the devil.
