Chapter 3 - Blood in the Ledger
The Hawthorne Continental Bank wasn't a traditional financial institution. It was a fortress made of glass and steel in the heart of the city's financial district, designed exclusively for the ultra-wealthy to hide their illicit funds. If Silas Hawthorne's empire had a beating heart, it was the server room on the forty-second floor.
Clara stood on the roof of the adjacent skyscraper, the wind whipping her black tactical jacket around her. Elias was beside her, his fingers flying across the keyboard of a ruggedized laptop.
"The security is military-grade," Elias muttered, chewing on a matchstick. "Biometric scanners, thermal imaging, and a private security detail armed with automatic weapons. Clara, this is suicide."
"It's only suicide if we get caught," Clara said, checking the magazine of the suppressed pistol Elias had procured for her. She didn't want to use it, but she wouldn't hesitate if they stood between her and Mia. "Have you looped the camera feeds?"
"Yeah. You have a four-minute window before the system registers the loop and triggers an alarm. You need to plug this drive into the mainframe," Elias handed her a small, sleek USB drive. "It's a localized EMP worm. It won't just erase their offshore accounts; it will scramble the backups and burn the motherboards. Silas will lose three billion dollars in thirty seconds."
Clara took the drive, sliding it into her pocket. She approached the edge of the roof. A steel zip-line stretched across the dizzying drop, anchoring perfectly to the maintenance balcony of the Hawthorne bank.
"Four minutes, Clara," Elias repeated, looking up at her with genuine concern. "If you don't make it out, I can't save you."
"I know," Clara said. She clipped her harness to the line. "Watch my back."
She stepped off the ledge. The wind roared in her ears as she plummeted across the abyss, the city lights blurring into streaks of neon. She hit the opposing balcony hard, rolling to absorb the impact. She unclipped and drew her weapon, moving silently toward the maintenance door.
Elias had already disabled the electronic lock. Clara slipped inside. The corridor was bathed in stark white light. She moved like a shadow, tracking the patrol routes Elias had fed into her earpiece.
“Two guards turning the corner up ahead. Wait in the alcove,” Elias whispered in her ear.
Clara pressed her back against the cold steel wall of a janitorial alcove. Two heavily armed guards walked past, complaining about the night shift. As soon as they were clear, she sprinted toward the server room.
The biometric lock glowed red. Clara pulled a specialized silicone mold from her pouch—a perfect replica of Julian’s thumbprint, lifted from a wine glass he had carelessly left at her apartment weeks ago. She pressed it to the scanner.
Green.
The heavy doors hissed open. Clara stepped into the server room, the hum of massive mainframes vibrating in her teeth. She found the master terminal, inserted Elias’s drive, and watched as a progress bar filled the screen.
10%... 40%... 80%...
Suddenly, the lights in the room flared red. A siren shrieked.
“Clara! They spotted the camera loop! The alarm is tripped!” Elias yelled through the comms. “You have thirty seconds before the room locks down!”
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Clara yanked the drive out. The servers around her sparked, letting out a dying whine as the worm annihilated Silas Hawthorne’s hidden fortune. She bolted for the door, sliding underneath it just as the heavy steel barricades slammed shut. The Hawthorne empire had just taken its first massive wound. Now, they were going to bleed.
