Chapter 15 - Midnight Protocol
The shockwave from the EMP knocked the mercenaries off balance above. Sparks rained down from the overhead light fixtures like dying stars as the cooling systems sputtered and died.
"Move!" Ethan bellowed in the dark.
Night-vision goggles clicked down over Ethan and Clara’s eyes, bathing the pitch-black room in a sharp green glow. Ethan fired four rapid shots upward through the glass observation window, dropping two of the disoriented mercenaries instantly. Clara pulled a tactical grenade from her belt, pulled the pin, and tossed it up into the upper gallery.
A blinding flash bang exploded above, sending screaming mercenaries collapsing to the floor.
Ethan kicked open the emergency service hatch on the main server housing, pulling Clara through just as heavy gunfire sprayed the area where they had been standing seconds prior.
"The server core is wiped!" Clara yelled over the deafening noise, looking at her tablet. "The EMP destroyed the physical drive arrays! The Syndicate's global blackmails, offshore ledgers, and shadow accounts are gone—scrambled into digital garbage!"
Charles Vance’s enraged voice echoed through the dark, echoing corridors as he fled toward his private exit. "Kill them! Kill them both!"
Ethan and Clara burst through the gallery doors, pursuing Charles into the high-ceilinged executive lounge overlooking the Thames. Charles was struggling to open a reinforced steel blast door leading to his private escape boat when Ethan tackled him from behind, slamming the old tyrant onto the hard marble floor.
Ethan threw Charles onto his back, placing the barrel of his gun directly between his grandfather's eyes.
Charles gasped for air, staring up at his grandson with a mixture of terror and disbelief. "Ethan... wait... I am your blood! Your family! Everything I built was meant to be yours!"
"My family is waiting for me at home," Ethan said coldly, his voice steady as granite. "And you... you are just a ghost."
Behind them, the heavy blast doors burst open as Marcus and a tactical unit from Scotland Yard flooded the lounge, weapons raised, sweeping the room.
"Ethan! Lower your weapon!" Marcus called out, stepping up beside him. "We have the perimeter secured! Interpol has seized all secondary nodes in Paris and Frankfurt! It’s over!"
Ethan stared down at his grandfather for three long seconds. Slowly, deliberately, he clicked the safety back onto his pistol and holstered it.
Two Scotland Yard officers stepped forward, forcefully hauling Charles Vance to his feet and slamming him against the glass wall, snapping titanium cuffs over his wrists.
Charles looked at Clara, his face contorted in bitter defeat. "You ruined us... you little maid..."
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Clara walked up to Charles, stepping into his space with absolute authority. She looked down at the man who had ordered her father's death, her voice quiet, peaceful, and unbreakable.
"My father built an empire on honor," Clara said softly. "You built yours on blood. Honor always outlasts blood."
