As the alert system's voice continued to echo and the computer's beeping persisted, Daniel didn't miss a beat. His fingers, dancing over the holographic keyboard, didn't just respond to commands; theydictatedthe course of action. Data cascaded across the screens, lines of neon-green code running across dark backgrounds, tactical maps unfolding in 3D. The image of a small, discreet object with a pulsating energy signature, tracing a worrying path across the map of the United States, dominated the main screen. It was a thermal reading, an electromagnetic trail. Daniel was tracking not just the position, but the energy signature and trajectory of the device. Every second was crucial. The lives of millions were at stake. Theirhoney brown eyesthey narrowed, the cold fury that drove him now more intense than ever.
He didn't ask. Heordered.
As the data converged in a continuous stream, Daniel activated the communication interface. The screens split, showing a series of faces that appeared one by one, each reflecting a growing level of alarm. It was a multi-channel, ultra-secure conference call connecting the pillars of power in the United States.Director Vancefrom the FBI was the first to appear, his face now pale, the expression of weariness replaced by acute urgency. Beside him was the Attorney General, who looked as if she had been rudely awakened, her hair disheveled and herwide eyesof panic. In other windows appeared the Secretary of Homeland Security (DHS), the Secretary of Energy (DOE), the Commanding General of the Pentagon, and finally, a fuzzy, formal image of the White House National Security Advisor, his expression equally somber. The air in Vance's office still smelled of stale coffee and documents, and the sound of phones ringing incessantly could be heard in the background, even through the encrypted call filter.
"Director Vance"Secretaries, General, Counselor," Daniel's voice echoed through the line, sharp and authoritative, lacking the camaraderie of minutes before. This was no longer a conversation between "friends" about "work"; this was a global emergency, and Daniel, the "Ghost," was in command. "The nuclear device I mentioned in my alerts twenty-five seconds ago isseven minutesfrom its detonation point on American soil." His voice was a warning, a detonator. Shock and terror erupted across the screens, the once-sullen faces now contorted in panic.
The Pentagon General, a man with a strong jaw and steely eyes, was the first to react, his voice booming over the call, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the table. "What?! This is impossible! Our internal security systems detected nothing! How did a nuclear device enter our territory without being intercepted?!" Hiseyes, previously controlled, were now filled with suspicion and confusion, fixed on the screen where Daniel appeared, but with a spark of growing despair.
"Your systems are flawed, General," Daniel replied without a hint of emotion, the screen in front of him projecting data that confirmed his statement. "This device is not a missile. It was transported clandestinely, recently activated, and designed for proximity detonation. Its signature is minimal, and the transport methodology was intended to bypass your most secure entry points. But it did not bypass themydetection." He emphasized the "my" with an authority that silenced the General, whoseeyes, once steely, were now filled with surprise and reluctance to believe, but they couldn't deny the authority in Daniel's voice. The lines on his face were deeper, evidencing his fatigue.
The Secretary of Energy, a renowned scientist with a worried face and glasses sliding down his nose, intervened, his voice filled with desperation. "An active device? This is a highly complex terrorist attack. Do you have a precise location? Any indication of the origin or type of warhead? Are we talking about a dirty bomb or something more... serious?"
As he spoke, Daniel wastrackingHis nimble fingers glided over the holographic keyboard, pulsing with soft lights. New lines of real-time data appeared and overlaid the images—graphs of GPS location, movement speed, barometric pressure—all in a symphony of critical information that only Daniel could interpret with such speed and precision. "Projected detonation location is midtown Manhattan. Accuracy: fifty-meter radius," Daniel declared, the words hitting his listeners like physical blows. The White House Counsel's face, which had been silent until then, went pale, the color draining from his face. The Attorney General gasped audibly, clapping her hands to her mouth, the sound of her heartbeat seeming to reverberate through the screen.
"Nova York?!" Director Vanceshouted, hiswide blue eyesof sheer horror, the desk in his office feeling even more chaotic and suffocating around him. He leaned toward the screen, desperate for more information, his voice hoarse with tension. "Millions of lives, Daniel! You have to turn this off!"
"I can't remotely 'deactivate' the primary detonator,Director"The device was designed for this. But I can mitigate it," Daniel corrected him, his voice implacable, with no room for the emotion evident on the faces before him. "The only option is to defuse the secondary detonator and contain the primary blast to a specific area, isolating the radiation. I am now sending to your secure terminals the location data, the device's electromagnetic signature, and the mitigation plans I have developed in the last twelve seconds." As he spoke, a green progress bar flashed on the screens of all call participants, indicating the download of a massive, highly encrypted data package. It was Daniel's solution, conceived and formulated in a time that defied human comprehension.
The Pentagon General, despite his initial disbelief, was now in combat mode, hissteel eyesfixed on Daniel, his brow furrowed in an effort to concentrate. "Mitigation? What kind of mitigation? Are you suggesting a rapid response team to the location? Our counterterrorism units are on the move, but time is of the essence!" His face, now redder, showed the desperation of a man accustomed to control, but who found himself powerless in the face of a threat that didn't fit any of his protocols.
"You can't touch it," Daniel agreed, a barely perceptible hint of disdain in his voice, but without any hint of arrogance. Just the fact. "The slightest physical interference without my coordination will accelerate the detonation. My network has located the device's final activation point. Mitigation involves destabilizing its internal electronics through a specific frequency and creating an energy containment barrier through localized electromagnetic pulses. I need you to evacuate the area around the location I'm now sending to your terminals, within a five-hundred-meter radius. Divert all foot and vehicle traffic. All security forces must remain on high alert and establish a perimeter. Any unauthorized interference through my network will destabilize the plan and guarantee total detonation. You can't touch it, but I can destabilize it." Daniel's words were a clear warning, a veiled threat: interfere, and disaster will be total.
The White House Counsel, who had regained his composure slightly, intervened, his voice trembling but trying to sound authoritative, his hands gripping the sides of his leather chair. "Ghost, I understand the gravity of it, but who can guarantee this isn't a... a trap? How can we trust your instructions? Who are you?"
"Time, Councilor," Daniel cut him off, his voice colder than ever, devoid of a single nuance of emotion. "We have no time for formalities or distrust. You have the choice to trust my information and act, or watch New York be pulverized. The choice is yours. The data I sent contains the exact coordinates for the mitigation and the override code for the device's secondary detonator. Only my network can access it and synchronize the necessary electromagnetic pulse. I am offering you the chance to avert catastrophe. You havefour minutesbefore detonation. Decide."
A tense silence hung over the call. The faces on the screens displayed a mix of panic, anger, and a reluctance to accept the authority of an invisible man. But the threat was real; Daniel's words were backed by data they now saw emerging from their own systems, replicated by Daniel's Shadow Network, which had infiltrated their networks to ensure they had the information they needed.Director Vance, with a sudden blow on the table, which made the papers jump and the empty glass roll, made the decision. Hisblue eyeswere fixed on Daniel, a grim acceptance in their eyes, like that of a man who finds himself cornered but chooses to fight.
"We trust," Vance said, his voice firm and authoritative, surprising the other conference members who were still pondering. He knew there was no other choice. He had seen the accuracy of Daniel's information before, the way he operated with an efficiency that defied all protocol. "General, Secretaries, Counselor. Follow Ghost's instructions. Evacuate the designated area. Establish the perimeter. Prepare all emergency response units in New York for the worst, but with the hope that this will work. This is our only chance. Now!"
The Pentagon General, after a moment's hesitation, swallowed hard and nodded, hissteel eyesstaring into the void, already issuing urgent orders to their commanders through their headsets, the sound of voices in the background signaling the frenzy of action. The Secretary of Homeland Security, the Secretary of Energy, and the White House Counsel, though still tense, followed Vance's lead, their voices blending into a frenzy of orders and commands to their respective agencies, the sound of chairs being pulled out and hushed voices echoing in their offices. The American government machine, however reluctantly, had bent to the will of a man in the shadows, in amansionin Dubai.
Daniel watched the scene, his expression unchanged. The countdown on his screens continued, each second an eternity. He knew the plan was risky, that the slightest interference could spell disaster. But he had prepared for this, optimized every variable, anticipated every potential failure. The life at stake was what drove him, the certainty that there was a way forward, even if invisible to others. The "Ghost" had played its cards, and now awaited the outcome. The fate of a metropolis was in its hands, and in its silent, relentless control.