Chapter 6 - The Ghost of the General
The armored SUV cut through the rain-slicked streets of Upper Manhattan with aggressive, practiced speed, its unmarked federal plates flashing in the dark.
Inside the back seat, Nora sat in absolute silence, her hands resting flat on her knees. The adrenaline from the ballroom confrontation had faded, replaced by a cold, heavy knot of dread in her stomach. Her father’s study had been her sanctuary when she was a child—a room filled with the scent of old leather, pipe tobacco, and military history. For a decade, she had believed his death was a tragic accident of war.
If that briefing proved otherwise, everything she thought she knew about her family was a lie.
"We're approaching the perimeter," Caleb announced quietly from the front passenger seat, his eyes locked on the digital tactical map glowing on his console. "Federal marshals have secured the block. No media, no interference."
The SUV swept through the wrought-iron gates of the Bennett estate. The grand limestone mansion looked dark and ominous against the midnight sky, federal floodlights casting stark, pale beams across the manicured lawns where police cruisers idled with their lights flashing mutely.
As the vehicle slid to a halt, Captain Miller—the lead tactical officer from Nora’s cyber unit—was waiting by the heavy front doors.
He saluted sharply as Nora stepped out into the chill air.
"Major," Miller said, his voice clipped and serious. "The perimeter is locked down. We haven't touched the primary files. The override requires your direct biometric signature."
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"Show me," Nora commanded.
They walked through the sprawling foyer, bypassing the overturned furniture and discarded champagne glasses from earlier in the evening, and headed straight down the oak-paneled corridor toward General Julian Bennett’s private study.
