Chapter 17 - The Digital SiegeYou do not fight a Silicon Valley predator by playing defense. By the time you build a digital firewall, they have already poisoned the code behind it.
By noon, my executive penthouse was sealed under military-grade cyber-quarantine. The room was bathed in the stark, cold blue glow of our tactical monitors. Elias, our elite cyber-forensics hacker, was running continuous decryption algorithms against the Vance Global worm.
"Dominic didn't just lock us out," Elias reported, sweating profusely as his fingers flew across his keyboard. "He’s using a decentralized, AI-driven proxy network. The worm is shifting its digital signature every three seconds. If I try to manually override the building's security doors, the system's failsafe triggers, and the elevators will free-fall."
"He designed a digital dead-man's switch," Julian murmured, pacing the hardwood floor with surgical precision. "He knows we can't physically evacuate the building without his authorization. He wants us to panic and sign the surrender documents."
"Dominic spent four years plotting this revenge," I said, my eyes narrowing into diamonds. "He thinks he has us cornered because he holds a gun to our infrastructure. But he made one fatal calculation error."
"What’s that, Sarah?" Julian asked, his dark eyes locking onto mine with fierce, unyielding devotion.
"He thinks I am still a woman who plays by the rules," I smiled—a cold, terrifying expression that made the room fall silent. "To execute a quantum worm of this magnitude, Dominic couldn't use a cloud server. The latency would be too high. He has to be broadcasting the signal from a physical, localized quantum supercomputer within a ten-mile radius of Chicago."
"You want to find his physical server?" Elias gasped. "It could be hidden anywhere in the city."
"Not anywhere," Julian realized, a slow, predatory smile touching his lips. "Quantum processors require massive, industrial-grade liquid cooling systems. There are only three commercial real estate grids in Chicago capable of drawing that much municipal water without triggering a city alarm."
"Exactly," I whispered, the fire in my veins turning to absolute ice. "Elias, cross-reference the city’s water usage for the last forty-eight hours against properties owned by Vance Global shell companies."
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Within ten minutes, Elias hit the jackpot. "Got it. An abandoned meatpacking plant in the West Loop. It’s drawing enough water to cool a nuclear reactor."
"We aren't going to fight his code, Elias," I said, pulling my tailored coat over my shoulders. "Julian and I are going to pay his server a physical visit."
