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Screen two was subtler, a phishing net casting fake emails to agency operatives, tricking them into clicking malicious links that installed backdoors. Picture a con artist slipping keys into every lock, waiting for one to turn.
Screen three ran a DDoS attack, flooding their network with junk data, clogging arteries like a heart attack. It was chaos, servers choking, unable to respond.
Screen four exploited a zero-day vulnerability—a flaw in their software no one knew existed—slipping malware inside like a thief through a cracked window.
Screen five was social engineering, scraping employee data to guess passwords, a quiet pickpocket lifting wallets in a crowd.
Screen six was the wildcard, a custom script probing for weak points, like a scout mapping enemy trenches.
Department 77’s defenses held, their walls absorbing the brute force, their system catching some malware. I clenched my jaw, dread creeping in. Their network was a steel vault, redirecting traffic, isolating breaches.
I thought the worst—PhantomZerohad met their match.
But then I saw it, the brilliance of their strategy. The attacks weren’t meant to win alone; they were a symphony, each move distracting, weakening, creating cracks for the others to exploit.
Screen two’s phishing net snagged a junior operative, his click opening a backdoor. Screen four’s malware spread through that breach, corrupting files like a virus in blood. The DDoS on screen three slowed their response, servers lagging as screen five’s password guesses landed, unlocking admin access. Screen six’s probe found a hidden database, andPhantomZeropounced, weaving through the chaos like a dancer in a storm.
I held my breath as the vault began to crumble.
It was a back-and-forth, Department 77 scrambling, patching holes, butPhantomZerowas relentless. They were in, piece by piece dismantling the agency’s network.
Screen one’s brute force cracked a secondary server, exposing internal comms. Screen five’s admin access let them rewrite permissions, locking out operatives. The malware on screen four deleted backups, erasing years of data like burning a library. I watched, heart pounding, asPhantomZerocarved through their defenses, each move a masterstroke, each screen a battlefield falling to their command.
The final stop was the bank accounts.
Screen six shifted, displaying a ledger—Department 77’s financial backbone, hidden behind layers of encryption.PhantomZero’s script danced, cracking codes like a safecracker’s fingers on a dial.
One by one, accounts drained, funds siphoning to numbered vaults. The deal wasPhantomZerokept half of anything they found; the rest went to Dominion Hall.
Numbers flashed—hundreds of millions, many times their $50 million fee. I grinned, adrenaline surging, as the last account emptied, the agency’s wealth gutted in minutes.
The battle felt like a sprint, but my watch showed hours had passed—four, nearly five.
I leaned back, exhilarated, my mind still racing withPhantomZero’s brilliance.
I typed a quick message:Masterful. Balance incoming.
I sent the remaining $37.5 million, a small price for this victory.
Department 77 was on its knees, their network in ruins, their funds ours.
I fired off an update to my brothers:Dept 77’s down hard. Investment paid off. Stand by for next moves.Atlas, Marcus, Noah, Charlie—they’d know we’d struck a blow, one that bought us more time, maybe even delivered the knock-out blow.
I powered down, the ops room’s hum fading as I stood, muscles stiff but mind clear. Contentment settled in, a rare warmth.
I’d fought for her, for us, and won, at least for tonight.
The hall was quiet as I climbed to my suite, the harbor’s lights flickering through the windows. Vivi lay in bed, her breathing soft, curls spilled across the pillow. I slipped in beside her, the mattress dipping under my weight, and pulled her close, her warmth grounding me.
She stirred, murmuring, but didn’t wake. I pressed my lips to her forehead, a silent vow.
Department 77 was wounded, but not dead, and Vivi’s grief—Jessa’s death, her mother’s crisis—still loomed. But tonight, I’d carved out a victory, a step toward keeping her safe.
My eyes grew heavy, contentment pulling me under, and I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, Vivi’s heartbeat my only anchor.
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VIVIENNE