Chapter 14 - THE VOICE FROM THE RUINS
For three weeks, Sector 9 became our training ground.
Under Marcus’s direction, the scrap-metal clock tower transformed into a nerve center. The boy with the goggles—whose name was Jax—was a prodigy at signal interception. He taught Clara how to decipher the encrypted radio frequencies of the High District, while Marcus spent every evening teaching me the intricate, cutthroat politics of the High Council.
"You have your mother's mind, Nora," Marcus said one night, watching me memorize the names and dark secrets of all twelve Council members. "She always knew that real power wasn't in weapons, but in knowing what people are desperate to hide."
On the twenty-fourth night, Jax slammed his headphones onto the console, his eyes wide behind his brass goggles. "We got it! The Syndicate is holding an official investiture ceremony at the High Council Plaza tomorrow night. Director Malakor is going to formally take over the Vance family's voting seat!"
"Every noble family and news network in the city will be watching," Clara said, stepping up to the holographic map. "That’s where we strike."
"We can't fight their army with rifles, Clara," I said quietly, looking down at the brass key ring Captain Hayes had given us. "We don't need to kill Malakor in the plaza. We need to expose him."
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Marcus pulled a heavy steel briefcase from under the workbench. Inside lay two tiny, high-grade audio-visual broadcast pins—transmitters engineered by Nora’s mother years ago.
"This pin connects directly to the city’s primary emergency broadcast array," Marcus explained, pinning one onto Clara’s camel coat and the other onto my tactical vest. "If we plug this into the main relay beneath the Council podium, Malakor’s own coronation will become his execution."
