Chapter 6 - The Anatomy of Treason
The next morning, the grand conference room of the Romano estate was buzzing with intense, military-grade activity.
Six private cyber-intelligence analysts were plugged into satellite terminals, decrypting the contents of Mateo’s titanium drive onto a massive wall monitor.
I stood beside Lorenzo, drinking hot black coffee, dressed in a soft cream cashmere sweater and dark denim trousers. My hand was neatly bandaged, throbbing with only a dull ache.
The decrypted files flashed across the screen in cascading columns of green text: shipping manifests, offshore wire transfers totaling forty-eight million dollars, and encrypted audio logs.
"Look at this," the lead analyst said, zooming in on a manifest from the Port of Newark. "The shipment isn't arriving Thursday. That was a decoy conversation staged at the gala to smoke out listeners."
My head snapped toward Lorenzo. "They knew someone was listening?"
"Petrov suspected a leak in his supply chain," Lorenzo said, his jaw tightening into iron. "The real shipment arrived last night at terminal four under the cover of the storm. Four hundred crates of anti-tank weaponry and surface-to-air missiles."
"And the recipient?" I asked, leaning over the glass table.
The analyst brought up an offshore banking record originating from Zurich.
The primary beneficiary of the logistics route wasn't a foreign government. It was Vanguard Defense Solutions—a private domestic security contractor owned by Senator Marcus Vance, the chairman of the congressional defense oversight committee.
"Senator Vance?" I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth. "He was at the gala last night! He was sitting at table four!"
"Vance is funding a private military cartel to secure mining concessions in West Africa," Lorenzo explained, his eyes darkening into lethal, icy focus. "He’s using Petrov’s smuggling network to bypass congressional arms export embargoes."
Dante walked into the room, holding an intercepted radio transcript.
"Boss, Petrov's convoy is moving the hardware from terminal four to a private rail depot in the Jersey Meadowlands tonight at ten. They're preparing to load it onto a chartered cargo train heading south."
Lorenzo walked to the window, staring out over the harbor where heavy container ships moved slowly through the morning fog.
"Isabella," he said, turning back to face me.
"Yes?"
"Your uncle gave his life to expose this pipeline. Tonight, I am going to destroy it," Lorenzo said, taking two steps toward me, his gaze intense and searching. "You have the legal standing as Mateo's next of kin to submit these files to the United States Attorney General under federal whistleblower protection."
"Will that keep you out of prison, Lorenzo?" I asked, looking straight into his eyes. "You're an underworld boss. If federal agents raid that depot, they won't just arrest Petrov and Vance. They'll come for you."
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A slow, wolfish smile spread across Lorenzo's face.
"They won't come for me, Isabella. Because tonight, the Romano syndicate isn't breaking the law. Tonight, we are acting as the state's private executioners."
