The amber light from the tablet pulsed in the cramped interior of the van, a rhythmic, digital heartbeat that signaled our time was running out. Every flash felt like a countdown to my mother's erasure.
"The timer is synced to a proximity trigger," Yuri muttered, his voice low and tight. He pulled a heavy tactical headset over his ears. "Viktor isn't just waiting for me to arrive; he's waiting for the biometric handshake. The moment my signature or yours hits the villa's internal Wi-Fi, the countdown drops from minutes to seconds."
"Then we don't use the Wi-Fi," I said, looking at the tablet. I remembered the back-door my father had built—the one that allowed UNI to bypass the Volkovs' main servers. "Yuri, the 'Ghost Code' isn't just a ledger. It's a network. If I can tap into the legacy signal my father used, I can ghost our heat signatures. To the system, we'll look like a glitch in the hardware."
Yuri looked at me, a flicker of something—trust, or perhaps just desperation—crossing his face. "Do it. But do it fast."
We moved through the limestone shadows, the villa looming above us like a white ghost. The sound of the Mediterranean crashing against the cliffs provided a violent soundtrack to our infiltration. We bypassed the front gate, where the red icons indicated Viktor's men were already engaged in a silent standoff with the UNI tactical unit.
We entered through a service tunnel used for the villa's water filtration system. The air was damp and smelled of ancient stone. As we reached the heavy steel door leading to the lower levels, Yuri held up a hand.
He pressed a finger to his ear, listening to the comms. "Miller is in position at the north terrace. He's drawing their fire. Now."
We burst into the medical suite. It was a stark, sterile contrast to the ornate architecture above. Glass walls, humming monitors, and in the center, a bed.
"Mom!" The word escaped my throat before I could stop it.
She looked so small, surrounded by the machinery of the UNI. Dr. Aris was there, his back to us, frantically typing into a console. He spun around, his eyes widening behind his spectacles.
"You're too early," Aris stammered, his hands hovering over a large red 'Execute' button on the screen. "The surge... I haven't stabilized the biometric harvest!"
"Step away from the console, Aris," Yuri commanded, his weapon leveled at the doctor's head.
"I can't!" Aris cried, his voice rising in pitch. "The kill-switch is linked to Viktor's heartbeat! If his pulse spikes—or if mine does—the explosives in the foundation will trigger! We are all tied to the same thread!"
I looked at the monitor. My mother's pulse was steady, a slow, drugged rhythm. But on the secondary screen, a jagged, frantic line was climbing. Viktor. He was somewhere in the house, his adrenaline surging as he fought Miller's team.
"Yuri, the amber light," I whispered, pointing to the tablet. The flashing had turned into a solid, angry glow. 00:45.
"Jessy, get her out of the bed," Yuri said, his eyes never leaving Aris. "I'll handle the doctor."
I lunged for the bed, my hands trembling as I began to unhook the sensors from my mother's skin. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open—cloudy, confused, but she recognized me. "Jessy?" she breathed.
"I've got you, Mom. We're going."
Suddenly, the doors at the far end of the suite hissed open. Viktor stood there, his face contorted in a mask of triumph and agony, his shoulder bleeding. He held a detonator in his hand.
"A beautiful reunion," Viktor wheezed, his thumb hovering over the trigger. "A shame it has to be so short."