Chapter 7 - The Munich Protocol
Three days later, the air in the industrial district of Munich, Germany, was cold enough to freeze the breath in my throat.
We had landed at a small, private airfield outside the city under cover of dark gray morning clouds. Marissa and Emma were safe in a secure apartment in the Bavarian countryside, guarded by three trusted former military contractors I had hired using offshore funds Marcus hadn't managed to freeze.
Now, it was just me.
I stood on the roof of an abandoned textile factory, looking through a pair of high-powered binoculars at a non-descript, four-story concrete building surrounded by razor wire and high-definition security cameras.
Apex Communications Hub 4.
This was the nerve center. Every signal sent from Marcus's wrist-monitor in Chicago to the Carpathian research facility in Romania had to pass through the encrypted relays inside this building.
If I could breach the server room, insert a root-kit virus I had spent the last forty-eight hours coding, and override the master routing protocol, the dead-man switch would be permanently disabled. Marcus would lose his leverage.
And Elena could be saved.
I pulled my tactical collar up against the biting wind. My knuckles were still scabbed from the flight, but the physical pain was background noise now.
"Adrian, do you read me?" Marissa's voice came through my earpiece, crisp and clear.
"I hear you," I said, adjusting the focus on the binoculars. "Are you and Emma secure?"
"We're fine. Emma's drawing a picture of a house," Marissa said, her voice softening slightly. "She asked if her dad was going to come home for dinner."
A lump formed in my throat. I swallowed it down.
"Tell her I'll be there as soon as I can," I said softly. "Is the satellite connection holding?"
"Yes. I'm connected to the building's exterior power grid logs. When you cut the main transformer, I'll have thirty seconds to override the security gate before the auxiliary generators kick in."
"Thirty seconds. That's plenty," I replied, pulling a pair of heavy wire cutters from my tactical belt.
I slipped off the roof, dropping quietly into the dark alley below. Snow had begun to fall, light flakes dusting the black pavement like powdered sugar.
I moved with silent, practiced precision along the perimeter wall. Reaching the main electrical junction box, I used a crowbar to pry open the rusted lock. Inside was a maze of thick, high-voltage cables.
"Initiating blackout in three... two... one," I muttered, driving a heavy insulated bolt cutter through the primary feed line.
A brilliant blue arc of electricity exploded with a loud crack, showering sparks over my boots.
Instantly, the entire facility plunged into darkness. The floodlights went dead, the security cameras stopped their rhythmic panning, and the heavy electronic lock on the side access door clicked open.
"Gate open! You have twenty-five seconds!" Marissa shouted through the earpiece.
I sprinted through the side door, slipping into the dark interior of the building just as the deafening roar of diesel backup generators rumbled to life deeper within the basement. The emergency red floor lights flickered on, painting the concrete hallway in a blood-red glare.
I drew my suppressed 9mm pistol, keeping it raised as I moved down the corridor toward the central server core.
Footsteps.
Two guards armed with submachine guns rushed around the corner, flashlight beams cutting through the haze of electrical smoke.
"Halt!" one shouted in German.
I didn't wait for them to raise their weapons. I dropped low, sweeping the legs of the first guard, sending him crashing into the wall. I brought the butt of my pistol down sharply on his jaw, knocking him out cold.
The second guard swung his rifle toward me, but I closed the distance instantly, grabbing the barrel and driving my shoulder into his chest. We slammed against the heavy reinforced door of the server room. I twisted the weapon from his grip, delivered a sharp knee to his ribs, and finished him with a hard right hook.
He crumpled to the floor.
Gasping for air, I grabbed the fallen guard's security keycard, swiped it through the server room reader, and burst inside.
The room was freezing—chilled by massive industrial air conditioning units. Rows of black server racks hummed loudly, their green and blue status lights blinking like thousands of tiny eyes.
I sprinted to the central terminal, jamming the USB drive containing my root-kit virus into the primary port.
"Marissa! I'm in!" I yelled. "Initiating the override now!"
Lines of green code began to cascade down the terminal screen.
Bypassing Security Layer 1... Bypassing Security Layer 2... Accessing Carpathian Relay Network...
"Hurry, Adrian!" Marissa urged. "The backup system is re-establishing the master ping to Chicago! You have less than a minute before Marcus's system detects an anomaly!"
The progress bar on the screen ticked upward slow, agonizingly slow: 65%... 78%... 89%...
Suddenly, the terminal screen turned bright red.
A cold, familiar voice echoed from the server room's overhead speakers.
"Did you really think it would be this easy, Adrian?"
My blood ran cold.
Marcus.
"I built this network," Marcus's voice purred over the intercom system from thousands of miles away. "Did you honestly believe I wouldn't notice a power draw drop in Munich? I was waiting for you."
"It's over, Marcus!" I shouted at the security camera mounted above the monitor. "I have your server core!"
"You have a decoy, Adrian," Marcus chuckled softly—a sound that sent chill bumps down my spine. "The Munich facility hasn't handled the Carpathian signal in three years. The primary relay is located inside the facility itself. In Romania."
My heart stopped.
"You led me here," I whispered, the crushing weight of the trap descending on me.
"I needed you out of the United States," Marcus said, his tone chillingly casual. "And more importantly, I needed you away from the child. My team in Bavaria just picked up your signal, Adrian. Thank you for leading us straight to them."
The line went dead.
"Marissa!" I screamed into my earpiece, terror gripping my throat like an iron fist. "Marissa, get Emma out of the apartment! NOW!"
Static answered me.
Then, a small, terrified voice came through the receiver, choked with tears.
"Daddy?"
"Emma!" I screamed, tears bursting into my eyes. "Emma, where is Aunt Marissa?"
"Some men... some men with black masks broke the door," Emma sobbed softly, her voice fading. "They took Aunt Marissa... and they told me to give you this phone..."
A heavy male voice took over the line.
"Mr. Cole. Mr. Vance sends his regards. If you want to see your daughter and your wife alive again... come to the mountain. You have twenty-four hours."
May you like
The line disconnected.
I stood alone in the dark, frozen server room, surrounded by the cold humming of useless machines, as my world shattered into a million jagged pieces.
