Chapter 8 - The Silent Frequency
Down in the security control room, my private terminal flashed a warning light that I hadn’t seen since my days inside federal counter-intelligence.
“Boss, we’ve got a localized electronic ping,” my deputy muttered, leaning over my shoulder as lines of raw packet data scrolled across the multi-monitor array. “Someone outside the hotel is trying to handshake with our internal Wi-Fi router using an encrypted military-grade frequency.”
I tapped my desktop mic, switching my comms to internal security channel zero. “All perimeter teams, lock down the exterior gates. We have an active data breach in progress.”
“Negative on the gates, Boss,” came the sharp voice of tactical lead Vance through the speaker. “A black utility van just parked across the service alley. No license plates. They aren't trying to break in physically—they’re broadcasting a localized signal dampener.”
Suddenly, every television, lobby screen, and digital display across the hotel flickered black, then flashed a single, stark image: a stylized corporate crest featuring a serpent coiled around a vault key—the undisputed emblem of the Zurich syndicate.
My phone buzzed on the desk. An incoming encrypted call from an unknown, untraceable international number.
I slid my thumb across the screen and pressed it to my ear.
May you like
“Vance,” I said, my voice deadpan.
A smooth, heavily modulated voice replied from the other end. “You’ve caused quite a disruption in our domestic asset chain tonight, Mr. Vance. But a local exposure doesn't clear the board. Return the sub-basement archives immediately, or the hotel’s primary grid goes dark.”
