Chapter 30
CHAPTER 30: THE FINAL COUNTDOWN
"Drop the weapons, Mr. Vance," Arthur commanded, the red laser sights of his guards locking onto Marcus’s forehead. Marcus slowly lowered his rifle, his hands raised, his eyes catching mine in a silent apology.
Arthur walked forward, the barrel of his submachine gun pointing directly at my chest. "The virus your father planted is an annoyance, nothing more. We can restore the Zurich servers from our backup drive in London within an hour. But you... you have run out of time."
He glanced at his watch. "It is exactly 11:59 PM. In sixty seconds, the midnight deadline passes. And Sofia Vance’s heart will stop beating."
"Let her go, Arthur," I begged, my hand still resting on the hacking console behind my back, my fingers secretly hitting the manual override bypass Evelyn had told me about. "You have the company. You have the money. Just let her live."
"The Obsidian Group does not leave survivors who defy us," Arthur whispered, a cold, final smile cutting across his face. "Watch the monitor, Valeria. See what happens when you play queen."
He held up his tablet, showing the live feed of Sofia Vance’s heart monitor. The countdown clock on the screen ticked down: 00:05... 00:04... 00:03...
My hacking device let out a sharp, high-pitched chime behind me. The heavy titanium vault door clicked open.
But it wasn't the server room that was revealed inside.
Through the opening door, the lights flickered onto a massive, high-definition television monitor mounted inside the vault. The screen didn't show rows of server towers. It showed a live broadcast of a secure, underground tactical military room somewhere in Washington D.C.
Sitting at the center of the table was a man wearing a five-star US general uniform, flanked by the Director of the FBI. And sitting right next to them, completely unharmed, wearing a clean tailored suit and sipping a cup of coffee... was Sofia Vance.
The countdown clock hit zero. The monitor didn't flash with a detonation alert. Instead, a massive green banner flashed across the screen: FEDERAL RAGS OPERATION ACTIVE. ASSET SEIZURE AUTHORIZED.
Arthur Pendelton froze, his eyes widening in complete, unadulterated shock as he stared at the television screen.
"What... what is this?" Arthur stammered, his hand trembling on his gun.
Sofia Vance looked directly into the camera lens on her end, a cold, triumphant smile breaking across her face. "Hello, Arthur. Valeria told me you liked high-stakes transitions. The FBI just seized the The Leviathan's tracking transponder. You aren't in international waters anymore, Arthur. The tide pushed this yacht exactly three miles inside US territorial jurisdiction ten minutes ago."
Suddenly, the entire ship violently shuddered. A massive, metallic crash echoed from the hull as three US Navy SEAL combat vessels slammed against the sides of the yacht. The sound of heavy steel breaching tools tore through the lower hull plates just twenty feet from where we stood.
Arthur’s face twisted into a mask of pure, demonic rage. He realized the entire Obsidian Protocol had been a setup—a masterfully coordinated sting operation designed by me, Sofia, and the US government to draw the elusive Chairman of the Obsidian Group out into a jurisdiction where he could be captured.
He raised his gun, his finger tightening on the trigger, his eyes fixed on me with a mad, murderous glare. "If I go down, Valeria... you’re coming to the grave with me!"
Bang!
A heavy, echoing gunshot tore through the narrow corridor. But it didn't come from Arthur’s gun, and it didn't come from Marcus.
Through the shattered hull plate behind Arthur, a completely new figure stepped out of the black ocean water, clad in a dripping wet tactical diving suit. The figure lowered a smoking shotgun, pulling off the black diving mask to reveal a face I never thought I would see again.
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It was Beatriz Rivas—Santiago’s mother, the woman who was supposed to be rotting in a federal medical ward in Mexico City. Her eyes were hollow, wild, and filled with a terrifying, ancestral madness as she looked past Arthur’s collapsing body and locked her gaze onto me and my son.
"The Rivas family doesn't forget, Valeria," Beatriz whispered, raising the barrel of the shotgun directly at my face as the water began to rapidly pour into the breaching lower decks, the lights failing completely, plunging us back into the screaming dark.
