CHAPTER 6: THE SYSTEM PUSHES BACK
It started with silence.
The kind that settles over a chessboard just before a bold move.
At 06:00 a.m., my burner phone buzzed with a coded alert.
They're coming.
Outside the Royal Mint, a convoy of unmarked black vans had arrived. National Intelligence. Tactical infiltration units. Not riot police. These men didn't come to negotiate—they came to end games.
I slipped out of my safe house and moved to a backup surveillance spot above Plaza de Cibeles. A perfect view of the Mint's southern wall. The one they'd try first.
I called Rio.
"They're initiating phase one," I said.
His voice was tight. "We're blind on that side."
"Then you'd better find us eyes. We've got ninety minutes before sunrise, and I don't want a single cop inside that building when it hits."
Inside the Mint, Berlin was polishing his boots. Calm. Too calm.
He looked up as Tokyo entered the room.
"Did you sleep?" she asked.
"I dreamt of victory."
She ignored that. "We need to reassess the guard shifts. Oslo's shoulder is worse than he's admitting."
Berlin smirked. "You sound like a captain."
"I'm sounding like someone who doesn't want to die because you're too proud to adapt."
He stood. Walked to her. "You want to take my command?"
"No," she said. "I want to survive the next forty-eight hours. And for that to happen, you need to listen instead of threaten."
For a moment, it looked like he'd strike her. But then
He nodded.
"I'll shift Helsinki to cover him."
Progress.
I tapped into a police frequency.
Raquel's voice filtered through.
"We initiate breach protocol on the southeast entrance. Silent incursion. No lights. No gunfire unless fired upon."
I smiled.
Because they'd walked into my script.
At 06:37, a team of six black-clad operators crossed the street toward the Mint's east wall.
Unmarked. Quiet. Efficient.
They didn't know about the motion sensors buried under the tile. Or the infrared-triggered alarm hidden in the rain gutter.
I let them get within twelve feet of the wall.
Then triggered it.
Alarms shrieked.
Spotlights fired up.
And every screen inside the Mint lit up with flashing red alerts.
Berlin was already moving. "Positions!"
Tokyo grabbed her rifle. "It's a bluff. No breach yet."
Nairobi was herding the hostages. "Everyone on the ground! Hands behind your heads!"
I watched it all through the feed. Eyes scanning for irregularities. If this was a feint, they'd try again somewhere else.
Meanwhile, Raquel was screaming at her team.
"Why weren't we told about perimeter sensors?"
Prieto didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
Because I put them there.
Inside the Mint, the tension exploded in small bursts.
A hostage tried to run.
Denver tackled him.
Berlin fired a warning shot into the ceiling. Plaster rained down.
"You run again," Berlin snarled, "and I put a hole in your leg."
Tokyo was watching everything.
And she didn't like what she saw.
In the tunnel, Moscow coughed blood again.
This time Denver saw it clearly.
"You need rest."
"We don't have time."
"We have more time than we'll have you if you collapse!"
Moscow wiped his mouth. "If I stop now, we lose momentum."
"I don't care," Denver snapped. "You're my father. You don't get to die here."
The air went still.
Then Moscow nodded.
He put down the drill.
For once.
Later that morning, I made a mistake.
A small one.
But in this game, even small mistakes echo.
I called Raquel again. Masked. Coded. Same distorted voice.
But I used a phrase I'd used before.
A private one. From our previous encounter, back when she didn't know I was the man she was chasing.
"You always chase ghosts."
She froze.
I could feel it through the line.
"Say that again," she said.
I didn't.
I ended the call.
But it was too late.
Back in her command tent, Raquel called for an old file.
A case she worked six months ago.
A man she'd met. Dined with. Almost trusted.
Álvaro. That was the name he gave.
She looked at the photo.
Then at the transcribed calls.
And suddenly...
The Professor had a face.