Daniel's screen displayed a projection of thousands of books, scrolls of code, electronic diagrams, programming languages—all in a symphony of self-taught learning. Henry, who knew Daniel's brilliant mind, was still impressed by the depth of that knowledge, acquired under such adverse conditions.
"I learned to see the lines," Daniel said, his voice regaining its characteristic coolness. "The lines no one else saw. The connections. The patterns. The vulnerabilities. The blind spots in your systems. I had nothing, so I had nothing to lose. I had no name, so I could be anyone. I could be invisible. And I began to understand how the world really worked. Not like in the history books, but behind the scenes."
The President, listening, felt a chill run down his spine. He was listening to the genesis of "Ghost," the man who became the most powerful and unstoppable weapon the world has ever seen.
"By the age of seventeen, I had accumulated more knowledge and practical experience in networking, security, tracking, and disruption than every government agency combined," Daniel continued. "I was already a ghost in the shadows, operating at a level you couldn't even comprehend.When the Twin Towers fell, I wasn't born.But I read every report. Every testimony. Every word from the survivors. I saw the footage, the images you tried to erase from the collective memory. And I read about the heroism of the firefighters who refused to leave. Who stood by their lives, by the innocent, until the end. As so many police officers did. They didn't abandon their posts. They knew they would die, but they chose to stay. I read about their sacrifice, about the courage that transcended logic.
The Pentagon General, hissteel eyesTearful, he nodded slowly. He understood the fury and determination born from those ashes, inspired by such great sacrifices. He had seen many soldiers swear the same.
"They didn't run," Daniel continued, his voice vibrating with restrained intensity. "They embraced hell to save souls. I swore that day that I would never allow something like that to happen again. Not in my country. Not if I could stop it. That scarred me more than any beating in foster care."
"I don't do this for honor, Mr. President. Honor is for the dead in their graves with white crosses," Daniel said, and the image shifted to a vast military cemetery, the white crosses stretching to the horizon. "I do this for those children. For the ones who were orphaned that day. For the ones who might have been orphaned if I hadn't acted today. For the firefighters, the police officers, the first responders, the soldiers who give their lives without being called heroes by bureaucrats."
"You think I'm made of ice? I have a family. A wife. And who knows, maybe children. And I want them to see a world where that doesn't happen. Where a son doesn't ask his mother, looking at a coffin, 'Where's Daddy?' Or a child doesn't have the dead look in his eyes of someone who's seen hell too early."
The revelation about his family was a shock to the leaders. Daniel, the "Ghost," the man with no name, had a life, a family, and vulnerabilities. This humanized him in a way they never expected. The Attorney General, her eyes red, nodded silently, deeply moved.
"I built what I built to stop this," Daniel continued, his voice returning to its tone of cold authority. "To see the lines, to act where you cannot, to be the wall. I don't ask for thanks. I don't ask for recognition. I only ask that you understand why I did what I did today. And that you give me the support I need to ensure this terrorist network never rises again."
The President of the United States, thetired eyes, but now filled with a new depth of understanding, he looked at Daniel. "Ghost," he said, his voice cracking. "Twelve. I understand. And you have my full support. Unconditional. The diplomatic trip is scheduled. London, Paris, Dubai. I'll meet him. And when we meet, Ghost... I want you to tell me what else you need to ensure this never happens again. Anything. It's at your service."
Daniel just nodded, his expression unchanged. The connection was cut. The screen in his office returned to displaying the world map, the blue dots scattered like scars on a body. The silence in themansionin Dubai was profound. Henry, beside Daniel, felt the weight of the story he had just heard. Daniel, the most powerful man in the world in his sphere, was also the most invisible, the most marked. And his war was far from over. The trip, the encounters, would be just the next chapter in a saga no one else saw.
Suddenly, the image on Daniel's screen flickered again, a direct connection to the President of the United States, who had already disconnected from the main conference. Daniel had reopened the channel, and the President was visibly surprised, his mouth slightly open, as if about to ask a question.
"Oh, and before you hang up, Mr. President," Daniel said, his voice calm but with a tone that brooked no interruption. The President and everyone on the bunker's dedicated line, including his chief of staff and the Vice President, felt a chill. They realized that the channel was not only open, but that Daniel had taken full control. He could hear, andto alter, who was listening in. The realization that Daniel was in absolute control of that line, and possibly all of their lines, was disturbing.
Daniel, yourhoney brown eyesfixed on the President's screen, he smiled, a subtle, almost imperceptible smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Dubai, this time of year, is beautiful, you know? Why not start there? It's an excellent starting point for your diplomatic tour."
The suggestion was not a question, but an instruction. The President, speechless, simply nodded slowly, histired eyesfixed on Daniel. He felt the weight of Daniel's presence, even through the screen, the absolute certainty that, yes, Daniel could enter wherever he wanted, at any time. The diplomatic trip had just taken on a new meaning, a new layer of complexity, and a hint of mystery that only Daniel could unravel. The hunt was over, but the game, as Daniel had said, was just beginning.
The soft hum of Daniel's servers was the only melody in the vast office, a nearly deafening counterpoint to the silence that had descended after the frenzy of the past few hours. The holographic screens, once a whirlwind of pulsing data and heat maps, now displayed only static blue dots, digital scars of a battle won. The smell of ozone, a remnant of the energy released by the high-tech equipment, hung in the air, mingling with the subtle scent of sandalwood that permeated the space.
Henry, Daniel's inseparable right-hand man, slumped into his swivel chair, his hands still hovering over the keyboard, as if awaiting a new order. Relief, a slow, warm wave, began to mix with the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. His eyes, red with exhaustion, fixed on Daniel's figure, who remained standing motionless, his honey-brown eyes fixed on the main screen, where the image of the President of the United States was still visible.
The President, in his austere bunker, seemed to have aged a decade in the last few hours. His hands were resting on his knees, his face lined with exhaustion, but with a gleam of deep gratitude in his eyes. The Vice President and Chief of Staff, sitting silently beside him, had worried gazes fixed on the screen, as if fearing that the "Ghost" might, at any moment, once again defy the laws of physics and geopolitics.
"Mr. President," Daniel's voice echoed, without the previous urgency, but with an unquestionable authority that filled the space between them. It was a voice that didn't ask, but declared.
The President lifted his head, his tired eyes meeting Daniel's on the screen. "Ghost. I... I don't know what to say. You saved millions of lives. You saved cities. You saved the world. I told you I wanted to meet you. In person."
Daniel nodded slowly, the movement almost imperceptible. His lips, a thin, tense line, barely moved. "Yes, Mr. President. I heard. And the invitation is accepted. I make you a proposal." His voice betrayed no emotion, but his words carried a weight that held the attention of everyone on the line. "Take a trip. Meet the leaders of these countries at press conferences, in public. And at one of those, I'll be there. You'll recognize me, you can be sure."
Daniel's proposal was as unexpected as it was audacious. The President blinked in surprise. "A diplomatic trip? With press conferences? And I'll meet him there, in public?" He looked at the Chief of Staff, who wore an expression of disbelief. The idea of Daniel revealing himself at a public event defied all logic for a man who operated in the shadows, whose existence was a whisper, an urban legend.
"Yes, Mr. President," Daniel confirmed, his voice unwavering. "It will be a show of strength, of resilience. You will show the world that you are not broken. And I will be there, invisible to the rest of the world, but present for you and the leaders of those nations. You won't need to look for me. I will find you. And when I do, we will talk alone, because your agents are no match for mine."
Daniel's final statement was a veiled display of power, a reminder of his ability to penetrate any barrier, to exist in the shadows of his most secure networks. The President felt a chill. The idea that Daniel might be in his bunker, there, invisible, was unsettling. He looked around the room, a slight tremor running through his body. The Chief of Staff and the Vice President looked at each other, their faces pale.