By Tuesday morning the air inside Reed Innovations already felt wrong.
Phones were ringing more than usual, and every voice sounded a little too careful. Petrina stepped out of the elevator clutching her tablet. “Good morning,” she called. No one answered. Her assistant only gave a thin smile before vanishing down the hall. She walked into the conference room where Charlotte was pacing between chairs. “What’s going on?” Charlotte looked up. “One of our partner banks froze a credit line overnight. They said it’s ‘temporary’ while they re-evaluate risk exposure.” “Risk exposure to what?” Petrina’s eyes narrowed. Charlotte shook her head. “They didn’t say. I’ve been calling since six a.m.” Petrina exhaled sharply. “We just renewed that facility last quarter. They can’t—” “They did,” Charlotte said. “And two suppliers are holding shipments until payment clears. If this keeps up, we’ll miss the Dankey contract delivery.” “What payment? We’ve never paid for any additional thing!” Charlotte exhaled through her nose. “Well it turns out there was always a two million dollars charge on every shipment—“ “TWO MILLION!?” Petrina yelled. “How did we never know about this?” Charlotte merely shook her head. “I’m as confused as you, Petrina.” “Get legal on the line,” she ordered. “We’ll make them explain.” Charlotte hesitated. “Petrina, there’s more. The investors’ group chat is buzzing. Someone’s saying our liquidity is in question.” “That’s ridiculous,” Petrina snapped. “We’re solid.” “Are you sure?” Petrina turned to her, eyes wide. “I said, we’re solid.” Charlotte nodded slowly, but Petrina's eyes said she wasn’t sure. By noon the office felt like a storm. Department heads huddled in corners whispering, printers spat out reports that no one wanted to read. Petrina stood behind her glass desk staring at the skyline, phone pressed to her ear. “I need reassurance, Daniel,” she said. “You’ve been our banker for years.” The voice on the other end sounded apologetic. “It’s not personal, Ms. Duck. Head office ordered a review. Something about undisclosed guarantees connected to your vendor accounts.” “Guarantees?” she repeated. “What guarantees?” “I can’t discuss details,” Daniel said. “But you might want to check your backend transactions.” The call ended. Petrina lowered the phone slowly. For the first time she felt a flicker of fear. Fear she had never felt since Reed innovations peaked up. Charlotte entered without knocking. “Brian’s here,” she said. “He says he can help.” Brian walked in like a calm wave. “You look exhausted,” he said gently. “Sit down.” “I don’t have time to sit,” she said, voice tight. “Everything’s going sideways.” He set a folder on her desk. “Let me take a look at the numbers. I’ve handled worse.” Charlotte folded her arms. “Do you have clearance to see those files?” Brian smiled politely. “Just trying to help.” “Help is fine,” Charlotte said, “but half of these problems started after you joined as a consultant. Maybe we should slow down and verify what’s real before—” “Charlotte,” Petrina cut in. “Not now.” Charlotte blinked. “I’m only saying be careful who you trust.” Brian kept his tone soft. “I understand your concern. Everyone’s nervous. But panic only feeds rumors.” He turned back to Petrina. “You’re the face of this company. If you show confidence, others will follow.” She wanted to believe that. “The banks have frozen lines,” she said. “Suppliers are walking…..running at this point.” “Temporary turbulence,” Brian said smoothly. “By tomorrow, I’ll have new funding routed. I just need you to sign a few authorizations so I can negotiate directly.” Charlotte frowned. “Authorizations for what, exactly?” “Standard finance-team access,” he lied easily. “Nothing unusual.” Petrina rubbed her forehead. “Do it. If it gets us breathing room, I’ll sign.” Charlotte looked like she wanted to argue, then stepped back. “Alright,” she said quietly. “But I’m checking every document before it leaves this office.” Brian nodded as if that were perfectly acceptable. Petrina stayed long after everyone else had gone. The floor was dark except for her office lights. She scrolled through figures that no longer made sense. Revenue streams that used to glow green now blinked red. Email after email from partners demanding confirmation of payments. Her phone buzzed. Charlotte again. “Go home,” her friend said. “You’ve been at it for sixteen hours.” “I can’t,” Petrina murmured. “If I fix this, maybe we can still deliver on the Dankey deal.” “Petrina—listen to me. Something’s off about Brian. He’s too calm. He knew the accounts were being frozen before we did.” “How could he?” “I don’t know,” Charlotte said. “But he’s pushing you to sign things. Check what they are before you do.” Petrina sighed. “You’re imagining things.” “I hope I am,” Charlotte said softly. “But promise me you’ll look.” “I’ll look.” When the call ended, Petrina set the phone down and buried her face in her hands. From the window she could see the reflection of herself: the composed CEO façade cracking around the edges. And behind that reflection, she imagined Derick’s calm face as he’d walked out of the gala. The look that said you’ll regret this. Her stomach twisted. “He must have leaked something,” she whispered. “He’s trying to ruin me.” The thought hardened into certainty. If Derick was out there pulling strings, she would show him she didn’t need him. The next day began with shouting in the accounting department. “Half the invoices bounced!” someone yelled. “The system says our accounts are restricted!” Petrina came running. “What’s happening?” A young analyst looked up from her screen. “Ma’am, the bank revoked our auto-clearance. Payments are flagged as high-risk.” “What?! Then call them!” Petrina barked. “We tried. They won’t pick up.” Charlotte appeared at her side, face pale. “Three investors just withdrew. I can’t reach the rest.” Petrina forced a smile she didn’t feel. “Keep everyone calm. This is just a glitch.” Brian entered moments later, carrying his tablet like a shield. “I’m already on it,” he said. “Give me an hour.” “How bad is it?” she asked. “Manageable,” he said, voice smooth as glass. “Just noise from Derick’s contacts. He still knows people in finance. I’ll counter it.” Charlotte gave him a sharp look. “You’re saying Derick did this?” Brian shrugged lightly. “Who else could trigger this many freezes at once? He definitely released something or said something to someone.” Petrina’s jaw clenched. “Then he really is trying to destroy me.” Brian placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Let me handle it. You focus on keeping the team motivated.” Charlotte’s eyes flicked to the hand, then back to Petrina. “Motivation won’t pay suppliers,” she muttered. Petrina ignored her. “Thank you, Brian. Just…please fix it.” “I will,” he said. “Trust me.” Charlotte watched him leave, then turned to Petrina. “Something about that man scares me.” “Charlotte, please,” Petrina whispered. “He’s all I have right now.” Charlotte hesitated. “Then I hope he’s really on your side.”Latest Chapter
Victor Ashford
The Foundation black site sat buried deep within a mountain thirty kilometers from Davos. From the gravel road, it passed for a neglected ski lodge with boarded windows and rotting wood. Behind that shell lay a fortress of interrogation rooms.Julian Cross was slumped in a metal chair in the center of a windowless room, his wrists locked to a heavy table. A sling held his left arm tight against his chest while purple bruises darkened his jaw and cheek. A Foundation doctor had patched him up enough to talk, but the man was clearly holding back a scream with every breath he took.Derick walked in alone. He pulled out a chair and sat across from the prisoner.Cross looked up, his eyes like chips of ice. "Have you come here to gloat?""I came for information," Derick said. He kept his voice level and steady. "You are going to tell me what I need to know.""I am Ghost Protocol," Cross said with a dry, raspy voice. "We do not talk to people lik
The Davos Ambush
The main auditorium of the Davos Congress Centre was a sea of expensive suits and powerful faces. Three thousand people filled the rows. CEOs of Fortune 500 companies sat shoulder to shoulder with top government ministers and the heads of central banks. All around the place, journalists from every major news network adjusted their lenses and checked their feeds.Derick stood in the dim light behind the heavy stage curtains, waiting for his cue. He could hear his own breathing, steady and slow, while Jackson spoke directly into his ear through a tiny, hidden speaker."The facial recognition system is currently scanning every face in the building," Jackson said from the high-tech security room. "Our software is tracking how people move and how they shift in their seats. If anyone looks out of place or shows signs of a threat, we will see it before they even take a step.""How many people have we flagged?" Derick asked, his voice barely a whisper."W
Preparing the Trap
The following fourteen days vanished into a relentless cycle of logistics and tactical preparation. Jackson had transformed a secure hotel suite in Davos into a high-functioning command center. Digital displays lined the walls, casting a steady glow over personnel who had been working twenty-hour shifts to ensure every variable was controlled."Swiss intelligence has finalized their positions," Jackson said, his finger tracing the arteries of a digital map. "We have twenty-four officers stationed at every major entry and exit point of the town. No vehicle enters this valley without us knowing about it."Derick leaned over the map, his eyes scanning the terrain. "And what about our eyes inside the venue? Did Interpol come through?""Sixteen agents are already on the ground. They are fully integrated into the event staff. Some are carrying trays, others are checking press badges, and a few are working the security gates. If a single Ghost Protocol operative
Julian Cross
Later that night, back at the Foundation safe house, the air was thick with the smell of coffee. Jackson had spent twenty minutes on a secure phone with his old contacts in London. When he finally hung up, he looked at the group with a grim expression."Julian Cross is a real person," Jackson said. "My contacts found his file. He was one of the most decorated soldiers in British history. He has fifteen confirmed kills and did dozens of secret missions in Syria, Iraq, and Afghanistan."Jackson opened his laptop and turned the screen around. A photo appeared of a man in his early forties. He had short hair, and a sharp jawline"In 2009, Cross led a team into Syria to find a weapons factory," Jackson explained. "He killed eleven people during that raid. Three of them were children. He tried to claim they were armed, but the evidence showed he had murdered civilians."Charlotte stared at the photo. Her voice was full of anger. "He killed children?"
The Leak
The Foundation safe house stood as a lonely stone sentinel amidst the Scottish highlands. No neighbors lived within a twenty-mile radius, and the horizon remained unbroken by cell towers or the intrusion of internet signals.Derick arrived first, steering a rental car he had secured under a digital ghost of an identity. He had taken every possible precaution, leaving his primary phone in a drawer in New York, navigating three separate international flights with three different passports, and swapping vehicles twice during the final leg of the journey.Jackson followed shortly after, then Charlotte, Lily, and finally Marcus. Each member arrived via a distinct route. They eventually gathered in the main room, where the scent of burning peat filled the air and the fire crackled with a steady, rhythmic heat."Everyone sweep yourselves right now," Jackson said. He began distributing handheld detection devices to the group.They spent the next twenty minutes checking every seam of their clo
Compromised
Derick stared at the secure video screen showing Victoria Laurent's face. The Foundation technology specialist waited patiently for his decision."I need you to go deeper," Derick said. "Every corporation that benefited from Ghost Protocol assassinations. I want ownership structures, financial connections,and everything."Victoria hesitated. "Mr. Sekwiga, with respect, I work for Sebastian Dubois. He assigned me to help with pattern analysis, but expanding the investigation would require his authorization.""Then I'll get it from someone with equal authority," Derick replied. He switched to another line and called the one person he trusted least but needed most right now.The call connected. Victoria Laurent's face appeared on screen, but this was a different Victoria Laurent.Derick had to remind himself this wasn't Victoria. The Foundation had too many Laurents. This was someone else entirely. He'd been told her name but couldn't recall
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