The Silent Colonel and the Downfall of the Monroe Family Empire
“We will talk,” I said, looking him in the eyes. “But there will be no deals.”
I looked at the agent.
“Put him in the car,” I said.
“Allison!” Grant yelled as the agent guided him toward the open door.
“I can help you stop it!” he shouted.
I turned my back on him.
The heavy door of the Suburban clicked shut behind me.
My military phone buzzed in my pocket.
I pulled it out and looked at the screen.
A new notification had appeared over the blank call log.
It was a countdown timer, the red digital numbers ticking backward.
*00:14:59*
*00:14:58*
*00:14:57*
Vance walked down the porch steps, holding his secure tablet.
“The tech team just finished the diagnostic,” he said, his voice grim.
“What did they find?” I asked, showing him the timer on my screen.
“The mirror server was a trigger,” Vance said. “Once we bypassed the firewall, it activated a secondary protocol.”
“The countdown,” I said.
“Yes,” Vance replied. “The primary server is at a secondary location downtown.”
“Where?” I asked.
“An old commercial warehouse near the rail yards,” he said. “It’s registered to a shell company.”