“Selena isn’t just a coder,” Victor lied, his voice steady. “She improved Arthur’s work. We didn’t just crash Triton by luck. We used a new version of the God code. It’s on this laptop.” Selena looked at Victor, shocked. She started to protest, but Victor squeezed her hand hard, silencing her. “Show me,” Prescott commanded. Victor opened the laptop. He typed a command. A complex three-dimensional visualization of the global market appeared on the screen. It was mesmerizing. “This controls the flow,” Victor said. “With this, you don’t just predict the crash. You cause it. Anywhere. Anytime.”
Prescott’s eyes glittered with greed. He reached for the laptop. “Release Arthur first,” Victor said. Prescott nodded to the guards. One of them cut Arthur’s zip ties. The old man slumped forward, and Selena rushed to catch him, hugging him fiercely. “Now,” Prescott said, extending his hand. “The laptop.” Victor slid the computer across the table. Prescott grabbed it, his eyes scanning the code. “Magnificent,” he whispered. “With this, the consortium will be gods.”
“There’s just one catch,” Victor said, taking a step back toward Selena and Arthur. “Oh?” Prescott did not look up. “That’s not a trading algorithm,” Victor said. “It’s a broadcast beacon.” Prescott froze. “What?” “I didn’t log into your system,” Victor said, a smirk touching his lips. “I logged into the Securities and Exchange Commission’s public whistleblower portal. And the New York Times tip line. And the FBI cybercrimes division.” Victor held up his phone. “That laptop is currently live-streaming your face, this room, and your confession to about ten thousand people. You’re trending on Twitter, Prescott.”
Prescott’s face went pale. He looked at the laptop webcam, the green light staring back at him, unblinking. “You idiot!” Prescott screamed. “You’ve destroyed the market.” “The market will survive,” Victor said. “You won’t.”
Sirens began to wail in the distance. Not just one or two, but a symphony of them. The police. The feds. Everyone was coming. “Kill them!” Prescott shrieked at his guards. But the guards looked at the laptop, then at the door. They were not paid enough to kill people on a live FBI feed. They dropped their weapons and ran for the back exit. “It’s over, Prescott,” Arthur Pendleton said, his voice gaining strength. “The math always balances out in the end.” “Run!” Victor grabbed Selena and Arthur.
They bolted for the service entrance as Prescott stood amidst his servers, frantically trying to smash the laptop. But it was too late. The signal was out. They burst out into the alleyway just as the first SWAT armored truck screeched around the corner. “Get in,” Graves yelled, throwing the back door of the Escalade open. As they peeled away, Victor looked back. He saw federal agents swarming the building.