Chapter 5 - Seven Minutes After MidnightThe Blackwood jet landed outside Boston at 10:36 p.m.
Two hours and twenty-four minutes remained before midnight.
Sophia was already moving before the wheels stopped.
Victor had arranged three vehicles, weapons, and a temporary tactical team through contacts who still owed Julian favors.
Sophia rejected half of them.
She had learned something from Marcus.
Numbers meant nothing if loyalty was uncertain.
Instead she took Julian, Gabriel Cross, Victor, and two operators Cross personally trusted.
Five people.
Not enough for a war.
Enough for a rescue.
Their target, Evelyn Shaw, lived in Beacon Hill under the name Evelyn Parker.
She was seventy-two years old.
Widowed.
Retired violin teacher.
No criminal record.
No military service.
No visible connection to Silas Vane.
Which meant the identity was excellent.
They stopped two blocks from her brownstone.
Sophia studied the street through binoculars.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
“Curtains open on the third floor,” Victor said.
“Lights?”
“One.”
“Movement?”
“None.”
Cross checked his watch.
11:07.
“We have less than an hour.”
Julian adjusted the armor beneath his coat.
“What exactly did Evelyn do for your father?”
Cross answered without looking at him.
“She was a cryptographer.”
“Government?”
“NSA.”
Sophia glanced back.
“She broke Ninth Circle communications?”
“She built the vulnerability that let us identify their leadership.”
“And then disappeared.”
“She had to.”
Sophia looked through the binoculars again.
Something was wrong.
A delivery bicycle leaned against a tree.
The chain was dry despite the rain.
No rider.
A white van sat thirty meters away.
Engine off.
But condensation around the exhaust pipe suggested it had been running recently.
“Trap.”
Julian followed her gaze.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Cross nodded.
“They know we’re coming.”
Sophia lowered the binoculars.
“Then they’ll expect us to enter through the front or rear.”
“What do you suggest?” Victor asked.
Sophia looked upward.
“The roof.”
Ten minutes later, Sophia was climbing from an adjacent building across a narrow maintenance bridge Cross had improvised with telescoping ladders and climbing line.
Julian followed.
“You know,” he whispered, looking down five stories, “normal couples have dinner.”
“We had dinner.”
“We robbed a bank afterward.”
“That was technically breakfast.”
Julian almost laughed.
Sophia held up a fist.
Silence.
They reached Evelyn’s roof.
The access door had fresh tool marks.
Someone had already entered.
Sophia drew her suppressed Glock.
Cross took point.
They descended.
Third floor.
A faint classical melody played from somewhere below.
Violin.
Evelyn.
Or a recording.
Sophia moved toward the sound.
Bedroom.
Empty.
Second floor.
The music grew louder.
Then Cross stopped.
Wire.
Thin.
Almost invisible.
Strung across the stairwell.
Sophia followed it with her eyes.
Pressure device.
“Don’t touch.”
She crouched.
The tripwire led beneath the wall molding.
Julian whispered, “Bomb?”
“Probably.”
“Can you disarm it?”
“Maybe.”
Cross shook his head.
“No time.”
11:42.
Eighteen minutes.
Sophia looked toward the stair rail.
They climbed over.
Carefully.
One by one.
First floor.
The violin music ended.
Silence.
Then a woman’s voice called from the living room.
“You might as well come in.”
Sophia froze.
Cross’s eyes widened.
“Evelyn?”
“Yes, Gabriel.”
They entered.
Evelyn Shaw sat in an armchair beside the fireplace.
Silver hair.
Small frame.
Calm eyes.
And a bomb vest strapped around her chest.
Julian swore.
Sophia lowered her gun.
“Evelyn.”
“I assume you’re Silas’s daughter.”
“Yes.”
“You have his eyes.”
“Who did this?”
Evelyn smiled sadly.
“The boy.”
“What boy?”
“The one we should have killed.”
Cross went pale.
“No.”
Evelyn looked at him.
“Yes.”
“Who?” Sophia demanded.
Cross did not answer.
The clock on the bomb read 00:13:22.
Thirteen minutes.
Sophia moved closer.
Evelyn raised a hand.
“Pressure switch beneath the chair. If I stand, it detonates.”
Sophia examined the vest.
Complex.
Professional.
Multiple circuits.
Remote backup.
“I can disarm it.”
“No.”
“I can.”
Evelyn’s eyes softened.
“You sound exactly like Silas.”
Sophia knelt.
“Then you know I won’t leave you.”
Evelyn looked at Julian.
“And you must be Blackwood’s son.”
“Julian.”
“Your father was a bastard.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“He was also brave.”
Julian’s expression changed.
Evelyn continued.
“Anthony Blackwood saved sixty-three people during the original operation. He never told anyone because criminals apparently have reputations to maintain.”
Sophia ignored them.
She traced the wires.
Red.
Blue.
White.
No.
Too obvious.
There was a second detonator beneath the vest.
She saw the tiny antenna.
Remote trigger.
“Cross. Jammer.”
He removed a compact signal disruptor.
Turned it on.
The bomb clock flickered.
Kept counting.
08:49.
“Tell me about the boy,” Sophia said.
Evelyn looked toward Cross.
He finally spoke.
“Damien Vale.”
The name meant nothing to Sophia.
“Who is he?”
“The founder’s son.”
“Founder of the Ninth Circle?”
“Yes.”
Cross’s voice was heavy.
“His father was Lucien Vale. Former intelligence director. Genius. Psychopath. He believed governments were obsolete and private power should rule everything.”
“And Damien?”
“He was fifteen during our attack.”
Evelyn corrected him.
“Sixteen.”
Cross closed his eyes.
“We found him in the compound after Lucien died.”
“You let him live.”
“Silas did.”
Sophia’s hands stopped.
“My father?”
“He refused to execute a child.”
Evelyn looked at her.
“Some of us warned him.”
05:11.
Sophia found the control line.
She needed to bypass the pressure switch.
Julian knelt opposite her.
“What do you need?”
“Something rigid. Thin.”
He removed a titanium credit card from his wallet.
Sophia stared.
“You have a metal credit card?”
“I have standards.”
“Hold this.”
She slid it beneath the pressure plate.
03:47.
Evelyn watched her work.
“Damien disappeared. We assumed someone smuggled him to Europe.”
“Where has he been?”
“Building.”
“Building what?”
“The new Circle.”
02:20.
Sophia severed one wire.
Nothing happened.
Julian exhaled.
“Don’t celebrate.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You blinked.”
“I blink.”
“Rarely.”
Sophia cut a second line.
The timer stopped.
00:01:13.
Everyone froze.
Evelyn whispered, “Is it over?”
Sophia watched the display.
“Yes.”
Then the screen changed.
REMOTE OVERRIDE.
00:00:30.
“No.”
Cross raised the jammer.
“It’s blocked.”
“Not satellite.”
Sophia tore open the bomb casing.
“Hardwired secondary transmitter.”
00:00:21.
She found it.
But cutting it could close the circuit.
00:00:16.
Julian stared at her.
“Sophia.”
“Quiet.”
00:00:11.
She grabbed two wires.
One black.
One green.
Father’s voice.
Machines lie.
Follow the intention.
Why would Damien want them to believe green was safe?
Because everyone associated red with danger.
He would reverse it.
00:00:07.
Sophia cut black.
The timer died.
Zero sound.
Zero explosion.
Julian let out the breath he had been holding.
Cross sat down against the wall.
Evelyn began crying.
Sophia gently removed the vest.
Then every window in the house shattered.
Gunfire exploded inward.
“DOWN!”
Julian threw Evelyn behind the fireplace.
Sophia rolled behind the sofa as bullets shredded the walls.
Cross returned fire.
Victor’s voice burst through the radio.
“Multiple hostiles. Street and rooftops.”
Sophia fired through the broken window.
Two attackers advanced behind a parked SUV.
“Smoke!”
Victor launched a canister.
The street disappeared.
Sophia grabbed Evelyn.
“Basement?”
“Yes.”
They moved.
Julian covered them.
Cross brought up the rear.
They reached the basement door when Evelyn suddenly stopped.
“What?”
“My violin.”
Sophia stared at her.
“We are being shot at.”
“There’s something inside it.”
Cross understood instantly.
“The archive.”
Evelyn nodded.
Sophia cursed.
“Where?”
“Living room.”
Julian was already turning.
“I’ll get it.”
“No.”
“Sophia—”
“You’re not running back into that.”
He smiled.
“You did it for me.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
“I had a tray.”
He kissed her hard.
One second.
Then ran.
“Julian!”
Sophia nearly followed, but gunfire hit the stairwell.
She pushed Evelyn into the basement.
Cross fired upward.
Thirty seconds.
Forty.
Fifty.
Then footsteps.
Julian appeared.
Holding a violin case.
Blood ran down his face.
Sophia grabbed him.
“You’re hit.”
“Glass.”
“You idiot.”
“Romantic idiot?”
“Murderously stupid idiot.”
“Still your idiot.”
Another explosion shook the building.
They escaped through a coal chute into an alley.
Victor’s SUV roared toward them.
They piled inside.
As they drove away, Sophia looked back.
The brownstone erupted in flames.
Evelyn held the violin case tightly.
“What’s inside?”
“Everything.”
“Everything what?”
“Names.”
Cross stared at her.
“You kept the ledger?”
“Not the old ledger.”
Evelyn opened the violin case.
Beneath the instrument was a hidden compartment.
Inside sat a small encrypted drive.
“The new one.”
Sophia’s pulse jumped.
“How did you get it?”
Evelyn smiled.
“Damien made the mistake of assuming an old woman had forgotten how to hack.”
Julian laughed.
“I like her.”
Evelyn looked at Sophia.
“There are four hundred and twelve names on this drive. Politicians. generals. bankers. CEOs. judges.”
Sophia swallowed.
“All Ninth Circle?”
“Some members. Some clients.”
Cross whispered, “Jesus.”
“No,” Evelyn replied. “Quite the opposite.”
Sophia looked at the clock.
12:07 a.m.
Seven minutes after midnight.
Target Seven was alive.
They had beaten the countdown.
Then Evelyn said something that erased Sophia’s satisfaction.
“Damien did not send the bomb because he wanted me dead.”
“Why else?”
“He wanted you here.”
Sophia stared.
“He wanted to know whether Silas trained you well enough to survive.”
Julian’s expression darkened.
“This was a test.”
“Yes.”
Sophia’s phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
One message.
WELL DONE, SOPHIA.
SEVEN LIVES.
SIX WON’T.
Attached was a photograph.
A man bound to a chair.
Sophia showed it to Cross.
His face collapsed.
“No.”
“Who?”
Cross took the phone with shaking fingers.
“My brother.”
May you like
The countdown began again.
23:59:59.
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