Chapter 80: The Reverse Trace

The silence in the secured study was heavy, thick with tension. It was broken only by the frantic, rhythmic clacking of mechanical keys.

Alex sat hunched over his makeshift command center on the large mahogany coffee table. The blue light from three different monitors reflected in his glasses, showing cascading lines of complex green code.

"Alex, how long?" Jackson stood over his son's shoulder. His arms were crossed so tightly across his chest that the fabric of his black suit jacket strained against his muscles.

"It's a quantum hopping signal, Dad. It bounces like a rubber ball," Alex didn't look up. His eyes darted back and forth across the data streams, reading information faster than any adult could process. "First it was in Zurich... then it bounced to a proxy server in the Cayman Islands... now it's pinging off a defunct satellite above Shanghai..."

Alex bit his lip, frustration showing on his small face. "Whoever built this chip... they really didn't want to be found."

On the table lay the shattered remains of the antique silver rattle—the "gift" from Cousin Elena. Delicate copper wires were now alligator-clipped to the tiny, black listening device found inside.

It was still active. The red light blinked menacingly, transmitting the static of the room to whoever was listening on the other end.

Serenity stood by the tall arched window, the heavy velvet curtains drawn slightly. She rocked Aurora to sleep in her arms, shielding the baby’s body with her own.

"Do they know we found it?" Serenity asked quietly, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. "Are they listening to us right now?"

"Not yet," Margaret said from the other side of the room. She was examining the signal waves on a separate tablet, her scientist demeanor cold and calculating. "We fed the bug a looping audio track of 'room silence'. As far as 'Mr. V' knows, the rattle is just sitting in an empty nursery. They think they are safe. They think they are invisible."

"Got it!"

Alex shouted suddenly, slamming his small fist onto the Enter key with a dramatic flourish.

"I bypassed the third proxy layer!" Alex grinned, pushing his glasses up his nose triumphantly. "I injected a tracer worm into their signal stream. It’s riding their data wave all the way back home."

"Show me," Jackson commanded, leaning closer to the screen.

A high-definition digital map of the world popped up on the massive main screen on the wall. A bright red line began to retrace the signal path instantly, moving backward through the network nodes across the globe.

"The signal originated from a server farm in Russia," Alex explained, pointing at the map. "But that's just a relay station. The receiver... the guy actually wearing headphones right now..."

The red line shot across Europe, narrowing the search grid.

[ SYSTEM ALERT: LOCATING TARGET SOURCE... ]

The map zoomed in rapidly.
Continent: Europe.
Country: The Kingdom of Montbert.
Region: The Capital City.

"He's in the city?" Jackson stepped closer to the screen, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "Is it a hotel? Is it a foreign embassy?"

"Closer," Alex whispered, his face illuminated by the red glow of the target. "Much closer."

The map zoomed in to street level. It showed the Palace Square. The GPS coordinates locked onto a location directly across the street from where they were standing.

[ TARGET LOCKED ]

A pulsating red dot blinked steadily on the screen. It was like a drop of blood on the map.

It wasn't inside the Palace. It was located directly across the main square.

Target Location: Saint Pierre Cathedral.

Jackson froze. The color drained from his face, replaced by a dark, terrifying realization.

He walked slowly to the window where Serenity was standing. With a rough yank, he pulled back the heavy curtain.

There it stood. The magnificent, ancient Gothic structure of Saint Pierre Cathedral. Its spires reached towards the night sky, bathed in soft, holy golden floodlights. It looked peaceful. Sacred.

"The Cathedral?" Jackson whispered, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "We got married there. We had the coronation there just last week. I had my security team sweep that place ten times!"

"The signal isn't coming from the main hall," Alex typed a few more commands, bringing up the architectural 3D blueprint of the church. "Look at the elevation. It's coming from below ground level. Fifty feet down."

"The Crypts," Margaret realized, walking over to the screen. Her face was pale. "The Crypts of the Saints. It is the final resting place for centuries of Bishops and Royals. It is holy ground. No one goes down there except the High Priests."

"Holy ground makes the perfect hiding spot for devils," Jackson said, his voice dropping to a terrifying growl that resonated in his chest.

He felt violated. The place where he vowed eternal love to Serenity, the place where his wife was crowned before God and the people... literally had the enemy sleeping in its basement the whole time.

"They were right under our feet," Jackson’s eyes burned with cold fury. "While we were saying our vows... they were listening. While you were being crowned... they were plotting."

"Elena said she bought the rattle from a 'Mr. V'," Serenity recalled, clutching Aurora tighter to her chest as she looked at the ominous spires of the church. "V... Vicar? Vatican? It fits the church theme."

"Or maybe Vermin," Jackson spat the word out. "They were trying to record my daughter’s voice to see if she has the Element. They want to harvest her."

He turned away from the window. The loving father was gone; the ruthless King was back.

"I'm going over there," Jackson headed for the door, grabbing his shoulder holster from the rack. "I’m going to burn it down."

"Not alone," Serenity moved to block his path. "Jackson, listen to me. That Cathedral has stood for a thousand years. It’s a maze. It probably has more secret tunnels than this palace. If you go in blind, you walk into a trap."

"You need someone who knows the history," she insisted. "Someone who knows the secrets of the graves."

"I know someone," Jackson stopped. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

"Sebastian," Jackson barked into the phone. "Wake up the old guard. And get Prince Frederick on the line. I don't care if he's sleeping. I need the original blueprints to the Cathedral Crypts. Now."

He hung up and checked the clip of his handgun.

"What are we going to do, Boss?" Luke appeared at the door, holding an assault rifle, fully geared up.

Jackson looked at the glowing red dot on the screen—the heartbeat of the enemy beating right next door. He thought of the poison, the attacks, and the threats against his newborn.

He was done playing defense.

"Prepare the strike team. Use non-lethal rounds for the monks, but live ammo for anyone else," Jackson cocked his gun.

He turned to look at the holy building one last time.

"Tonight," Jackson said calmly. "We go to confession."

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