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No one saw what came next... / Chapter 3 / 15

Chapter 3 - The Port of Entry-3

The high-performance luxury SUV my firm had provided for my corporate transport tore through the dark, rain-swept industrial corridors along the Boston shipping canal, its heavy tires screaming against the frozen asphalt as I pushed the engine to its maximum capacity. A blinding sheet of freezing autumn rain battered the reinforced windshield, smearing the grey silhouettes of abandoned manufacturing foundries and rusted iron cranes into a terrifying, featureless wasteland of gray water.

The time was 11:24 p.m. We had precisely thirty-six minutes before the financial clearing servers executed the final decentralized blockchain purge that would permanently lock the asset transfers inside the state registry system.

I sat in the driver's seat, my tablet terminal resting flat across the console counter, my fingers flying across the mechanical keyboard as Marcus Hale continued to feed me the decrypted network logs from our downtown office. In the back row booth sat Leo and Maya, wrapped in thick wool travel blankets I had purchased from an all-night truck stop down the highway. I had refused to leave them behind at the estate; if Truett’s tactical operators realized the data loop had been fractured, the mansion would be dark before the local police precinct could even route a cruiser to the gate line.

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"The transponder codes are centering on Storage Unit 108 inside the Ironwood Maritime Annex, Richard," Marcus Hale’s voice crackled through my wireless earpiece, his tone carrying the deep pride of a long-awaited corporate redemption. "Your brother Truett just swiped his master administrative keycard at the server room elevator block ten minutes ago. He’s carrying the original carbon-fiber document box—the one containing the physical hardware signature tokens he used to clone Julian Vance's biometric authorization profiles."

"He’s trying to launch the zero-fill wipe script, Marcus," I said, my teeth clenching so hard the muscles beneath my jaw pulsed violently against my shirt collar. "He knows the moment the grand jury signs the indictments tomorrow morning, his personal banking history becomes public record. He has to incinerate the master drives to protect the family's connection to the Nicosia shell accounts."

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