Chapter 37 - The Counter-Algorithm
Inside the abandoned textile mill, the countdown had begun.
`SYNAPTIC STABILITY: 68 HOURS, 14 MINUTES, 22 SECONDS.`
Mateo sat cross-legged on the cold concrete, his nose bleeding slightly onto his sleeve as he worked simultaneously on three networked tablets. Marcos was pacing back and forth along the perimeter of the holographic projection, his mind racing through thousands of permutations per second.
"It's not just a physical enzyme," Marcos declared suddenly, stopping in front of the floating code.
Mateo wiped the blood from his lip and looked up. "What did you find?"
"Cassian’s lie," Marcos replied, his hazel eyes flashing with an intensity that made Lucía hold her breath. "He wants us to believe we are dependent on his laboratory. But look at the algorithmic syntax of the metabolic trigger! It's not purely biochemical. It’s an electromagnetic harmonic pulse transmitted via the Coalition’s orbital satellite network!"
Mateo gasped, his fingers rapidly manipulating the tablet code. "The enzyme isn't a cure... it's a suppressor! The satellite array is sending an active micro-frequency that forces our neural synapses to destabilize unless suppressed!"
"Which means," Marcos smiled coldly, "we don't need his cure."
"We just need to shoot down his signal," Mateo finished, a brilliant, dangerous smirk spreading across his face.
"Boys, that's impossible," Lucía said, rushing to their side. "The Coalition controls four dedicated orbital relays in geostationary orbit. You can't hack a military satellite without a high-gain military uplink station!"
"We don't need a military uplink station," Marcos said, turning to look through the broken skylight at the towering broadcast spire of the city’s central telecommunications hub three miles away.
"Arthur’s network," Mateo reminded them. "Before the bunker was breached, Arthur transferred the administrative backdoors of Vance Global Communications into our cloud repository. The broadcast spire on Mount Ridge has enough transmission wattage to overpower an orbital uplink if we reconfigure the phased-array transmitters!"
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"That tower is surrounded by federal marshals and Coalition assets," Lucía said, fear tightening her chest. "They're waiting for us to make a move."
"Let them wait," Marcos said, snapping the Blue Folder shut and tucking it into his backpack. "We spent the last month taking down a deadbeat father and a corrupt CEO. It's time to teach our biological creator what happens when you underestimate your own creation."
