10: Midnight as SCBD

The subterranean parking garage of Prakoso Development smelled of wet concrete, oil, and impending doom. Galen stepped out of the van first, his boots hitting the floor with a hollow echo that bounced off the concrete pillars. He racked the slide of the Sig Sauer, the metallic clack sounding loud and dangerous in the empty garage.

Nurin slid out from the passenger side, her bare feet cold against the grit of the floor where she had abandoned her heels. She didn't complain. She didn't hesitate. She just fell into step beside him as they made their way toward the private executive elevator bank.

"The biometric scanner is going to log our entry the second we swipe our master keys," Nurin said, her voice dropping into a sharp, efficient whisper as they jogged toward the lift. "Haris has backdoor access to the building's security protocols. He’ll know we're here before the doors even close."

"Let him know," Galen replied, his jaw tight as he swiped his platinum keycard across the terminal. The LED ring flashed a harsh, defiant green. "We’re not hiding anymore. We’re walking straight into the trap."

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. They stepped inside, and Galen jammed his key into the override slot, turning it hard to the right to lock out the intermediate floors and send the car rocketing straight to the penthouse boardroom on the forty-fifth floor.

As the elevator surged upward, the digital floor indicator flashed past numbers in a dizzying blur: 12, 18, 27, 34...

Nurin stood close to him, the friction of their wet clothes sticking to their skin. In the harsh fluorescent light of the car, she looked pale, her hair tangled and damp, but her eyes were fixed on the control panel with laser-like focus.

"If that dead-end protocol I gave Haris uploads to the city council's master server at eight o'clock, his entire network is going to brick," Nurin muttered, almost to herself. "Every single shell company, every offshore account, every title deed he’s stolen over the last decade is going to dump into the public ledger. He’ll be finished."

"Provided we live long enough to watch it happen," Galen countered, keeping his eyes on the floor numbers as they ticked closer to the top. "Haris isn't stupid. He knows we have the override keys. He’s probably already up there waiting for us with a welcoming committee."

"Then we give him a proper welcome back," Nurin said, a cold, hard edge creeping into her voice.

Ding.

The elevator jolted to a halt, and the doors glided open to reveal the sprawling, glass-walled expanse of the executive boardroom.

It wasn't empty.

Sitting at the massive mahogany conference table in the center of the room, casually spinning a fountain pen between his fingers, was Haris Danuarta. Behind him stood four men in tactical black vests, their automatic weapons held at low-ready. A laptop sat glowing in front of Haris, its screen displaying the loading bar of a master file transfer—currently at 87%.

"Well, look who decided to show up for the early shift," Haris smiled, not even bothering to look up as they stepped out of the elevator. "I was beginning to think you drowned in the harbor, Galen. And Nurin... darling, you really need a better jacket for rainy nights."

Galen didn't waste time with words. He raised the Sig Sauer, locking his sights dead center on Haris’s chest. "Hands on the table, Haris. Step away from the terminal."

Haris chuckled, finally looking up. He didn't look scared. In fact, he looked entirely relaxed, leaning back in his leather chair as the four tactical guards slowly raised their weapons, pivoting to aim straight at Galen and Nurin.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, old friend," Haris said smoothly, gesturing toward the glowing laptop screen. "Transfer is at 91%. The SCBD security grid code is uploading right now. The moment this bar hits 100%, my system locks out all administrative overrides. This building, this company, and every municipal contract your family ever built will belong to Danuarta Holdings."

"You’re uploading garbage, Haris," Nurin stepped forward, her voice ringing out crystal clear across the silent boardroom. "The code you have on that drive isn't the security grid. It's a logic bomb."

Haris’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he recovered, his eyes narrowing. "What are you talking about?"

"I wrote the firewall architecture for that grid six months ago," Nurin said, a triumphant, razor-sharp grin touching the corners of her mouth. "The moment that transfer hits 100%, it's not going to unlock the system. It's going to broadcast every single illegal wire transfer, offshore shell company, and extortion memo you've ever signed directly to the National Cyber Police and every major news outlet in the country."

Haris slammed his hands down on the table, standing up so fast his chair screeched against the hardwood floor. "You lying bitch! You set me up!"

"From the very beginning," Nurin replied smoothly.

"Kill them," Haris snarled, his face twisting into a mask of pure, unadulterated rage as he pointed a trembling finger at Galen and Nurin. "Kill them both right now! Drag the hard drives out of the servers and burn this entire floor to the ground!"

The guards didn't hesitate. The man on the far left snapped his rifle upward, his finger tightening on the trigger.

Galen moved with explosive, lethal speed. He fired twice, the deafening cracks of the Sig Sauer shattering the boardroom's floor-to-ceiling glass windows. The lead guard spun and hit the floor, dropping his weapon.

"Get down!" Galen roared, grabbing Nurin by the waist and diving behind the heavy mahogany conference table as a hail of automatic gunfire chewed through the wood, sending splinters and glass flying everywhere.

"96%," Haris screamed, staring frantically at the laptop screen while ducking behind the table. "Hurry up! Override the firewall! Stop the transfer!"

"I'm pinned!" one of the guards shouted, returning fire blindly toward the overturned conference table.

Galen popped up from behind the mahogany barricade, sighting down the barrel and squeezing the trigger twice more. Two crisp, professional shots dropped another guard before the man could adjust his aim. The remaining two security operatives scrambled for cover behind the sleek leather sofas near the windows, pinned down by Galen's relentless, calculating precision.

"Galen! Look at the screen!" Nurin yelled over the deafening pop of gunfire, pointing frantically at the laptop.

The progress bar hit 99%.

Haris lunged across the table, his fingers clawing desperately toward the keyboard to yank the thumb drive out of the USB port. "No, no, no—!"

100%.

A sharp, high-pitched alarm began to shriek from the laptop's internal speakers. The screen flashed a brilliant, blinding crimson, displaying a massive system lock symbol accompanied by a scrolling cascade of encrypted legal documents, bank statements, and voice recordings.

Transfer complete. Public broadcast initiated.

Haris stared at the screen in absolute horror, his face draining of all color until he looked like a corpse under fluorescent lights. "You... you ruined me. You absolute maniacs, you destroyed everything..."

"We just reclaimed what was ours," a cold, dark voice echoed from the elevator vestibule.

Haris whipped his head around. Stepping out of the elevator cars were half a dozen men in unmarked tactical suits, led by Bagas, who casually held a heavy-duty riot shotgun across his chest. Behind them, flashing red and blue lights began to illuminate the rainy Jakarta skyline outside the massive glass windows as the first wave of federal police cruisers swarmed the ground-floor plaza.

"Game over, Haris," Bagas said, stepping forward and clicking a pair of heavy steel handcuffs onto the stunned CEO's wrists with practiced efficiency. "The cyber-crime division already has mirrors of this terminal. You're going away for a very, very long time."

As the tactical team secured the remaining guards and pushed Haris toward the elevators, the frantic noise of the boardroom slowly faded into a heavy, exhausted silence.

The rain continued to beat against the shattered glass of the penthouse, washing away the dust and the smoke of the night.

Galen lowered his gun, letting the smoking weapon hang by his side. He turned slowly, looking across the wreckage of the conference table at Nurin. Her clothes were soaked, her feet were bleeding slightly from the shards of glass on the floor, and her hair was a wild mess around her shoulders.

She looked back at him, her chest heaving as the adrenaline slowly drained from her system. The walls she had built, the lies she had worn like armor, and the war they had both fought were finally over.

"Well," Nurin whispered, a small, tired, incredibly genuine smile finally breaking through her exhaustion. "That's one way to handle a corporate restructuring."

Galen let out a low breath that sounded half-laugh, half-sob. He stepped over the splintered wood, closed the distance between them, and pulled her hard against his chest, burying his face in the damp crook of her neck as the distant wail of sirens echoed up from the streets below.