Chapter 6 - The Ghost Protocol
Within ten minutes, Arthur’s team moved through the multi-million-dollar mansion with surgical precision. While one team extracted the server racks from the basement, another team systematically disabled the property's security grid, replacing the live footage with a continuous forty-eight-hour loop of an empty foyer.
Eleanor sat slumped in an armchair, her elegant composure completely shattered as she watched men in black uniforms carry out the brain of her family's financial empire in heavy black hard-cases.
"Where are you taking those?" she whimpered, her voice cracking. "Those are proprietary corporate records! There are client accounts from three foreign embassies on those drives!"
"Not anymore," Arthur said, standing near the shattered front entrance. He checked his watch. "In approximately twenty minutes, the State Police will receive an anonymous tip regarding a high-stakes domestic hostage situation at this address. They will arrive expecting a siege."
Julian stared at him through swollen, bloodshot eyes. "You're crazy. If the police come here, I’ll tell them you broke in! I'll show them my nose! I'll press charges!"
"Press charges with what evidence, Julian?" Arthur smiled—a chilling, hollow expression. "Look around you."
Julian looked around the foyer.
The splintered mahogany double doors had been neatly removed by Arthur's crew and replaced with a temporary, matching wooden frame. The broken glass from Eleanor's drink had been swept up and vacuumed. The bloodstains on the polished marble floor had been treated with an industrial chemical agent that neutralized organic residue, leaving the stone spotless and dry.
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There was no sign of a breach. There was no sign of a fight. To an outside observer, the house looked entirely pristine, save for the obvious absence of Clara Vance and her personal belongings.
"You're going to stand here in an empty house, bleeding from your nose, claiming a ghost army breached your security, stole your servers, and vanished into thin air," Arthur whispered, leaning down so his face was inches from Julian's. "And when the federal agents arrive an hour later with a warrant based on the data currently being decrypted on my chopper, no one is going to listen to a word you say."
