Semua Bab My Billionaire Ex-husband Won't Call It Quit: Bab 101 - Bab 110

The server room hummed with the barely contained energy of thousands of processors working in perfect harmony, their combined heat turning the underground chamber into a technological sauna despite the frigid Andean air just meters above their heads. Banks of servers stretched from floor to ceiling like metallic monoliths, their LED indicators creating a constellation of status lights that pulsed in rhythmic patterns. The air recycling system worked overtime, creating a constant whisper of moving air that masked the sound of their footsteps on the raised floor panels.Maria Santos's fingers flew across her portable interface with the fluid grace of a pianist performing a complex concerto. Lines of code scrolled past faster than human eyes could follow, but her enhanced cognitive processing—a gift from the same Vogel experiments that had transformed Griffin and Eli—allowed her to parse the data streams with superhuman efficiency. Sweat beaded on her forehead despite the air conditionin

The holographic war table cast blue light across the faces gathered around it, transforming the underground command center into something that belonged more in a science fiction film than in the basement of a repurposed oil platform in international waters. But then again, Griffin reflected, their entire situation had moved beyond anything that conventional reality could accommodate. The platform—officially decommissioned and abandoned, unofficially purchased through a network of shell companies established by Maria's contacts in the digital underground—provided them with a base of operations that existed in the gray spaces between national jurisdictions.The three-dimensional display showed Vogel's global response to their raid on the Chilean facility, data streaming in real-time from satellites, intercepted communications, and the network of hackers and whistleblowers who had rallied to their cause in the forty-eight hours since the evidence had gone public. Red indicators marked fa

The Andes cut through the night sky like broken glass, jagged peaks silhouetted against stars that seemed close enough to touch at this altitude. The air was thin enough to make every breath deliberate, cold enough to turn exhaled vapor into crystalline fog that could betray their position to thermal scanners. Eli Reeves adjusted his night-vision goggles, the world transforming into a landscape of green-tinged shadows and heat signatures that painted the mountainside in ghostly detail."Thermal scans show twelve guards patrolling the compound's perimeter," he whispered into his throat mic, his voice barely audible over the wind that howled through the mountain passes. "Standard rotation pattern, but they're carrying military-grade hardware. SA80 assault rifles, ceramic body armor, and what looks like experimental tech integrated into their helmets."The Vogel Neural Research Hub sprawled across a natural plateau like a metallic cancer, its brutalist architecture at odds with the organ

The descent through the facility's levels had been a journey through increasingly surreal layers of scientific horror. Each floor revealed new atrocities—laboratories where hybrid children were subjected to surgical procedures without anesthesia, training facilities where eight-year-olds learned to kill with their bare hands, dormitories where dozens of beds stood empty, their occupants having "graduated" to purposes the team was only beginning to understand.But nothing had prepared them for the foundry.The cavernous space took Maria's breath away, not with its beauty but with its terrible grandeur. The hangar stretched out before them like an aircraft manufacturing facility designed by a madman, its ceiling lost in shadows high above. Dozens of the winged aircraft sat in assembly lines, each one a masterpiece of aerodynamic engineering and biological horror. They were sleek and predatory, their surfaces seeming to shift and ripple in the artificial light as if they were alive.But

Hangar Control Room – 3 Minutes Later The control room sat like a spider at the center of its web, overlooking the hangar through reinforced windows that reflected the harsh work lights below. Griffin's fingers flew across the alien-looking console, his hybrid-enhanced nervous system allowing him to process information at speeds that would have overwhelmed a normal human mind. The interface was a fusion of biological and digital technology, requiring both technical skill and the neural modifications that had been forced upon him.Lines of code scrolled across multiple screens, each one representing a different aspect of the facility's systems. Life support for the hybrid children. Power distribution for the aircraft. Most critically, the neural link networks that connected each child to their designated weapon."I can override the aircrafts' neural links," Griffin said, his voice tight with concentration and barely suppressed panic. "But the system is designed with multiple safeguar