Chapter 33 - The Decoy's Reckoning
Three miles away, inside the maximum-security federal holding facility on the outskirts of the capital, Álvaro Miller sat shivering on a bolted metal bench.
He wore an orange prison jumpsuit that hung loose on his shrinking frame. The arrogance that had once carried him through the elite auditoriums of the Apex trials had evaporated. His face was pale, his hair disheveled, and his fingernails chewed raw.
"My lawyer... where is my lawyer?" Álvaro muttered repeatedly to the blank gray wall. "I have rights. I was the chief auditor. I have shares in Apex Dynamics. I am an elite mind..."
The heavy iron door at the end of the cell corridor swung open with a slow, grinding shriek.
No guards announced the visitor. No footfalls accompanied the movement.
A single man entered the hallway, dressed in a charcoal bespoke suit, carrying a titanium briefcase. The federal guards outside lay sprawled across the floor behind him, unmoving, subdued by silent neuro-toxin darts still embedded in their necks.
Álvaro rushed to the bars of his cell, clinging to them with frantic fingers. "Are you with Julian? Tell Julian I didn't rat on the offshore accounts! The kids did that! The monsters did it! They had the blue folder!"
The man stopped before Álvaro’s cell. He adjusted his glasses with a gloved finger. His face was utterly devoid of pity.
"Julian Vance is no longer an executive of interest, Mr. Miller," the man replied in a voice like crushed ice. "Julian was merely the Coalition’s administrative clerk. And you... you were an expensive piece of livestock."
Álvaro’s eyes bulged. "What? Who are you?"
"Dr. Cross has awakened," the man stated calmly. "And the Coalition is recalling all inventory associated with Project Genesis."
"Cross?" Álvaro choked, the blood draining completely from his face as a long-buried nightmare slammed back into his consciousness. "No... no, Cross died in the facility fire in Berlin! I took the money! Lucía promised me they would never come back!"
"The money you spent on sports cars, high-society clubs, and fraudulent patents," the man said, lifting a sleek pneumatic injector from his breast pocket. "You were paid to keep them docile. You were paid to ensure those boys never demonstrated cognitive anomalies that would trip orbital monitoring systems. Instead, you provoked them into public view."
"It was an accident! I didn't know!" Álvaro shrieked, backing away from the bars into the corner of the cell. "They're demons! They were doing advanced calculus at four years old! I couldn't control them!"
"Precisely," the man whispered.
With a silent hiss, the locks of the cell door dissolved under a corrosive thermal charge. The man stepped inside.
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"The Coalition requires your biometric memory implants, Mr. Miller. The decoy protocol is officially terminated."
A scream echoed down the empty corridor, abruptly silenced by the hiss of pressurized steel.
