Chapter 14 - The Russian Cipher
We spent the next three days moving constantly between cheap, cash-only motels on the outskirts of the city.
I knew Arthur Vance would flag my passport, my license plates, and every bank account I had ever touched.
We were officially ghosts, hunted by the very agency I had sworn my life to protect.
If we wanted to dismantle the Erebus network, we needed physical proof of Arthur's direct involvement.
The only person alive who could tie Arthur Vance directly to the syndicate was currently locked inside a CIA black site.
I needed to talk to Viktor Volkov, the monster my mother once knew as Garrick.
Breaking into a federal black site was completely impossible for a standard civilian, but I was the one who designed their security protocols.
I knew the primary detention facility in the mountains rotated its guard shift exactly at 0300 hours during heavy storms.
I stole a decommissioned federal transport van and forged a set of highly classified prisoner transfer documents.
I dressed in a stolen tactical uniform, hid my face behind a heavy ballistic mask, and drove straight to the front gate.
The armed sentry scanned my forged barcode, completely unaware that the system clearance was a digital ghost I had planted hours ago.
The heavy steel gates groaned open, and I drove directly into the heart of the beast.
I left my mother in the vehicle with the engine running and walked purposefully into the subterranean holding block.
I found Viktor sitting in a reinforced glass cell, looking bruised, exhausted, and entirely defeated.
He looked up as I approached, his eyes narrowing as he recognized my posture despite the tactical mask.
"You are incredibly bold or incredibly stupid to come here, Sarah," Viktor rasped, leaning against the cold glass.
I bypassed the intercom and placed a small, magnetic bone-conduction microphone directly against the glass.
"Arthur Vance ordered the hit on my safe house, and he is going to have you killed before trial," I stated coldly.
Viktor’s arrogant demeanor instantly vanished, replaced by a deep, hollow shadow of genuine fear.
He knew exactly how the syndicate operated; loose ends were always burned to ash.
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"Give me the location of Arthur's master ledger, and I will give you a painless way out," I offered softly.
I held up a tiny, wax-sealed cyanide capsule, pressing it against the glass for him to see.
