An imperceptible electromagnetic pulse vibrated. On Daniel's map, the last red dot over the White House turned blue and dissipated. The threat had been neutralized.
A collective sigh of relief, deeper than any before, erupted from the conference. The President collapsed in his chair, his hands covering his face, an uncontrollable tremor racking his body. The chief of staff and the vice president embraced briefly, overwhelming relief replacing dread. Around the world, the leaders on Daniel's screens were exhausted, but their faces showed a deep, quiet gratitude.
"All twenty-seven nuclear devices have been neutralized, Mr. President," Daniel announced, his voice cool and unaffected, as if nothing extraordinary had happened. He had saved the world, but his expression betrayed no sign of triumph. Hishoney brown eyeswere already moving, scanning the screens, searching for the next threat. The battle was over, but the war was far from over.
The President raised his head, histired eyesfixed on Daniel. There was an unmistakable admiration in them, a reverence for this mysterious man who had done the impossible. "Ghost... you... you saved the world," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion and exhaustion. "I don't know how to thank you. No one knows who you are, but the world owes you more than it can ever repay."
Daniel, however, showed no emotion. He looked at the President, his expression serious. The silence in themansionin Dubai was broken only by the continuous hum of the servers.
"This isn't over, Mr. President," Daniel declared, his voice sharp and filled with a new urgency. Hishoney brown eyeswere fixed on the screen, which now displayed an intricate web of global connections, data lines flashing, complex algorithms working in the background. He saw not victory, but the next threat, the next step in the invisible war. "I'm certain. This attack wasn't random. There's a mastermind behind it, a command center, a source. This was just the first salvo."
The President frowned, exhaustion mixing with a new pang of apprehension. "A hub? Do you have any indication, Ghost? Our agencies are on the move, but the scale of this network... is overwhelming."
"We will twenty minutes"Mr. President," Daniel promised, his voice filled with unwavering conviction. He wasn't asking permission; he was making a statement. "And I will find their hub. Not by physical location, but by network signature, by communication pattern. By every invisible line they thought no one would see. I will find the heart of this operation. And when I do, you will have the chance to root it out once and for all."
The Pentagon General, who had witnessed Daniel's coolness and precision during the operation, didn't question it. Hissteel eyeswere fixed on Daniel, a resigned acceptance of the man's extraordinary ability. "Twenty minutes, Ghost. We'll give it to you. Any resources you need, any information, you'll have it."
The other leaders at the conference, still reeling from the relief of the averted catastrophe but aware of the gravity of Daniel's words, nodded in unison. Their once-reluctant faith in Daniel was now absolute. He had proven himself in a way no government agency could ever imitate.
Daniel turned to Henry, who had heard everything, histeary eyesof exhaustion, but a gleam of determination in them. "Henry, isolate all remaining encrypted communications from the terrorist network. Focus on the anomalous data packets. Look for any spike in activity, any signature of central control. I want every pixel, every byte, every millisecond of communication traced back to a source."
Henry nodded, wordlessly, already immersed in the task. His fingers flew across the keyboard, the speed almost incomprehensible. The screens onmansionDaniel's thoughts became a cascade of numbers, graphs, and spectrograms, an invisible universe of data where the truth lay hidden. Daniel knew that the terrorist network, in its moment of "victory" (which was actually defeat), would be at its peak of communication activity. And it was in this moment of vulnerability that he would find them.
A mansionDubai, a sanctuary of technology and luxury, became the nerve center of the final manhunt. Daniel, the nameless orphan, the iceman with a beating heart, was ready to unmask the architects of global terror. The twenty minutes had begun.
In the imposingmansionIn Dubai, the hum of Daniel's servers had intensified, an orchestra of raw power reverberating through the glass walls of the office. The multiple screens pulsed with data, maps, and images, a global web that spanned continents. Henry, beside Daniel, was a blur of movement, his fingers flying over the holographic keyboards, exhausted but driven by a pure adrenaline that kept him from passing out. He could smell the metallic ozone in the air and the cold sweat trickling down his temples.
The faces of world leaders on the conference screens—the President of the United States in his austere bunker, the head of MI6 in London, the director of the French DGSE, the head of the Japanese Intelligence Agency, and so many others—were tense, their eyes fixed on Daniel, awaiting his next move, his next instruction. The American President stood, his hand on the conference table, his knuckles white. The Vice President and the Chief of Staff sat silently beside him, their worried gazes fixed on the screen.
Twenty minutes passed. Twenty minutes since Daniel had promised to find the terrorist network's headquarters. And he had. The main screen in his office now displayed a world map with five bright spots, not in cities, but in hard-to-reach places, in buildings that seemed harmless but pulsed with anomalous network signatures, a digital heat that only Daniel could detect. One of them was on American territory, hidden in the vast arid lands of Nevada. Another on the outskirts of Paris, in a rural fortress. A third was in London, in a house with an inconspicuous facade, in the heart of a residential neighborhood. The fourth, surprisingly, was in Dubai, in a luxurious private complex, just a few kilometers from where Daniel was. And the fifth, and most dangerous, was in the Gaza Strip, in a densely built-up area.
Daniel leaned into the microphone, his voice cool and unwavering, but with an intensity that would chill anyone's blood. Hishoney brown eyesshone with a contained fury, a ruthless resolve.
"Mr. Presidents and Prime Minister," Daniel began, his voice cutting through the silence with the precision of a blade. He wasted no time with preambles. "I know where they are. I've located the five main command and control centers of the terrorist network. They are the masterminds behind it all. And I won't wait for warrants, for bureaucracy, for negotiations. I'm the one who's going to do the terrorism to me. The time to play has begun."
A buzz of bewilderment and alarm erupted across the screens. The President of the United States frowned, histired eyesfixed on Daniel. He felt a chill run down his spine. What did "terrorism with me is what I do with them" really mean?
"I will launchfive Satan 2 intercontinental missiles"Daniel declared, the words falling like hammers, shocking everyone. The declaration was so audacious, so unthinkable, that the leaders could barely process it. "One on American territory, targeting the Nevada hub. One in Paris, one in London, one in Dubai, and one in Gaza. If your sensors activate, know that it is me striking the locations of these hubs."
The shock at the conference was absolute. The Pentagon General, who had been silent until then, exploded: "Ghost! This is insane! Intercontinental missiles?! This is an act of nuclear war! The escalation... the consequences..." Hissteel eyesThey were wide-eyed in horror, their voices hoarse with disbelief. He knew the power of the Satan 2 missiles, weapons with multiple warheads and devastating power. The idea of using them, even against terrorist targets, was unthinkable.
The US President slammed his fist on the table, sending the silver pen flying. "Ghost! What are you doing?! This is unauthorized! You're destabilizing the entire world!"
"Mr. President," Daniel replied, his voice unwavering, without a hint of remorse. "The lives I just saved are worth more than any protocol. These centers are snake pits. They orchestrated attacks on your cities. They planned the annihilation of millions. And they won't stop. This is the only way to root out the evil. The missiles will be calibrated for surgical impact, destroying only the structures and personnel inside. There will be no massive radiation outside the primary target, or as little as possible.electromagnetic pulse warheadshigh-intensity, kinetic impact. They will feel the power of their own medicine."
"Electromagnetic pulse warheads?" the Secretary of Energy muttered, panic mixed with morbid curiosity. He knew Daniel was referring to an experimental technology that could overload electronic systems and cause massive structural damage without a conventional nuclear explosion.
"Yes, Secretary. To fry their brains and their systems," Daniel confirmed, a dark glint in his eyes.eyes. "And that's not all. I'm already sending drones from each country, without asking permission, to attack the homes of these people who have been identified as leaders and financiers of the terrorist network. Sorry. But I'm the one who commits terrorism with them. There will be no negotiation. There will be no forgiveness. Time for the game to begin."
On Daniel's screen, multiple maps activated. Small dots, icons of attack drones, appeared out of nowhere, flying at high speed toward residences in London, Paris, Washington D.C., and cities around the world. These weren't random houses, but residences Daniel had identified as belonging to high-ranking individuals in the terrorist network, their names and profiles flashing on a subscreen. Daniel had spent the last twenty minutes not only locating the centers but also mapping the human network behind them.
"Ghost! No!" the Director of the French DGSE exclaimed, his face contorted in horror. "This is a summary execution! No trial! No due process! You can't do this!"
"They didn't give justice to millions of innocent people, Director," Daniel retorted, his voice like ice. "They didn't give justice to the victims of 9/11, the Chicago train passengers, the children who were orphaned. I am justice for them. I am the line you failed to see. I am retribution."
The President of the United States, even with the fury in his eyes, felt a strange chill. He saw the man who was "Twelve," the tortured orphan transformed into a ruthless angel of death, acting with a moral conviction that transcended laws and protocols. There was a terrible beauty in Daniel's righteousness.
"Missiles launched," Daniel announced, his voice calm. On the global map, five pale, nearly invisible lines of light erupted from remote locations and curved toward their designated targets. There were no smoke trails, only the invisible certainty of their trajectory. In each capital city, missile defense sensors beeped but failed to identify a threat. The signature was unfamiliar, anomalous, designed to evade defenses.
"Missile sensors activated in London! We haven't identified the source!" the MI6 chief shouted, his face pale.
"In Paris too! Unidentified object on interception course!" the DGSE director confirmed, panic evident in his voice.
"In Dubai! We are under attack! I repeat, we are under attack!" the voice of Dubai's security chief echoed in the conference, he had been wired for the occasion.
Daniel didn't blink. Hishoney brown eyeswatched the screens, following the trajectory of each missile, the approach of each drone.
In London, the Satan 2 missile, now at a low altitude, flew over the residential neighborhood. There was no deafening roar, just a subtle buzz, followed by a blinding flash of electromagnetic energy. The house with its inconspicuous facade imploded, not in an explosion, but in a controlled disintegration, its walls falling inward, the floor sinking, reduced to rubble in seconds. The impact was not a conventional explosion, but a pulse of energy that fried everything in its radius, followed by an implosion. The glass in the windows of neighboring houses shattered, but the structures remained standing, shaken but intact.