Page 152 of The Kiss Of Death
I ushered Miguel, his gaze fixed on the screen, teetering on the verge of passing out, while two of Archambault’s guard dogs watched him from behind in case he failed.
For a moment, the only sound was the hum of servers and the tapping of keys, when another notification breached through the air.
“Boss, they’re trying to reverse-engineer the code. If they succeed, they’ll find—”
“I know,” I interjected, cutting through Miguel’s breaking voice with a composed smile.
My fingers tapped over the keyboard in a frenzied symphony, each keystroke a calculated strike. One wrong move, and it’d end for either me or Los Calaveras. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead as I orchestrated a digital defense, my eyes darting across the screen.
“Is it ready?” Archambault’s tense voice broke through. So impatient.
I gritted my teeth. “Almost.”
In the digital maze, the intruders struggled, the walls closing in on them. I blocked each attempt at rewriting my code and delved into their networks, analyzing their traffic—from computers to phones—slowly mapping out potential hideouts and narrowing down the geographic scope.
I dissected encrypted packets, identifying patterns, packet sizes, and communication frequencies to identify the types of data being exchanged and potential communication protocols.
“I’m transferring you their location,” I said, sending the coordinates to Sylas’s phone.
Kay’s voice echoed from behind, “Gibraltar. They’re here.”
“We got them!” Archambault roared and let out a thin laugh, departing from behind me. “I’m going to catch those damn bastards!”
But it wasn’t over. Not yet.
“Take that, you bastard!” Miguel erupted in a scream, squeezing the mouse. “I just locked that bastard in.”
I raised an eyebrow; I didn’t know that kid had it in him.
I focused back on the task, breaking their encryption. My virus was corrupting each of their devices connected to their network.
“Do you hear me? Send the signals!” Sylas’s father roared over the phone. “Descend on them, now!”
Each digital fingerprint became a puzzle piece in my hands, fitting seamlessly into the mosaic of existing databases and open-source intelligence. The screen illuminated with interconnected threads of information, revealing the real-world identities of the intruders.
Encrypted messages, command sequences, and even casual exchanges between members were extracted and decrypted. These snippets provided a glimpse into the motives, hierarchies, and internal dynamics of the group.
My lips turned into a scowl. “Frederic, I got them.”
I forwarded the files on each of the leading members of the group. They were done for. The intruders were ensnared in the digital labyrinth and now that their identities had been revealed, it was just a matter of hours before catching them.
“The Tacticians are in the place!” Kay cheered, but the screams of joy seemed distant as I analyzed the screen.
A message from one of their coders materialized on my screen.
Intruder: Who are u?
I couldn’t resist a smirk.
Me: Checkmate.
I ended the system.
“I can’t believe it worked,” Sylas whispered.
Their only mistake? Dealing with Mercier. I swiveled my chair around to face the room. Archambault’s hand rested on his son’s shoulder while he barked orders into his phone, orchestrating the interception of Los Calaveras. Cillian was already dialing the news channel, ready to spread the word. Miguel, on the other hand, was throwing punches at the air, lost in his own victory dance.
I did it.
