2026-01-11 23:59:56
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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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