Chapter 7 - The Digital Ledger
Sal rushed over from his terminal, his eyes wide as he looked at the open brass cylinder. “Boss, is that...?”
“The entire research database,” Matteo finished, pulling the micro-SD card out with careful precision. “Every clinical trial, every genetic sequence, every name of every corrupt politician and Syndicate investor who funded the destruction of Arthur’s lab.”
He handed the card to Sal, who immediately slotted it into an isolated card reader connected to the main decoding screen.
Within seconds, lines of green code began cascading down the monitor, followed by detailed financial portfolios, encrypted chat logs, and scanned corporate deeds.
“It’s all here,” Sal breathed, scrolling through a folder marked Project Genesis. “Every offshore account in the Caymans. Every shell corporation the Syndicate uses to launder money through Boston real estate.”
I stood up from the desk, my legs feeling unsteady. I walked over to the glowing monitor, watching my father’s name appear at the top of the directory as the principal architect of the research.
“He wasn't a criminal,” I whispered, a sudden wave of validation and grief washing over me simultaneously. “He was trying to stop them.”
“He was the only thing standing between them and total biological control,” Matteo said, stepping up beside me. His shoulder brushed against mine, providing a solid, grounding anchor in the chaotic storm of my life. “And now, with this data, we can dismantle their entire operation from the top down. But we have to move fast. Now that the cylinder is open, the metadata encryption will auto-broadcast our location to the Syndicate’s central servers within twenty minutes.”
“Can we block it?” Sal asked, fingers flying across his keyboard like lightning.
“Negative,” Sal cursed a second later, the color draining from his face. “They’re already pinging the node. A strike team is inbound. We have less than ten minutes before they breach this warehouse.”
Matteo didn't panic. Men like him didn't have the luxury of panic.
“Sal, burn the hard drives. Leave nothing behind except a dummy loop,” Matteo commanded, grabbing his Sig Sauer from the holster and slamming a fresh magazine home. He turned his dark, intense gaze back to me. “Ava, listen to me. This is where you walk away.”
“Walk away?” I stared at him incredulously. “After everything? After they destroyed my studio, killed my father, and hunted me across the city? I’m not going anywhere.”
“It’s too dangerous—”
“I don't care about dangerous anymore!” I stepped right into his space, my chest heaving with adrenaline and fury. “My father died for this data. I unlocked it. That makes me part of this war whether you like it or not, Matteo. So don't you dare treat me like a spectator.”
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Matteo stared at me for a long, silent second. Then, slowly, a fierce, dangerous respect ignited in his eyes.
“Alright,” he said, his voice dropping into a low, steady rumble. “Hand me that spare Glock from the tactical kit on the wall. Let’s show the Syndicate what happens when they mess with Arthur Monroe’s family.”
