Feed Cut

Self-congratulatory grandeur glistened at the City Advancement Gala. Designer gowns and tuxedos were illuminated by light dripping from crystal chandeliers. With practiced ease, waiters negotiated the clinking glasses and false laughter. Under the bright glow of spotlights, OmniCorp CEO Harrison Vance ascended the stage, exuding self-assurance and civic virtue. Anya, crouched against the night cold with her burner phone gripped tightly, watched on a public news screen attached to a bus shelter miles away. With his fingers poised over his homemade console, a complicated web of code spooled and ready, Rhys watched the same feed in his secret projection booth aerie.

"He's starting the keynote," Anya said in a tense whisper into the burner phone. "Rhys, go. Now go."

Rhys did not respond. The pace at which his fingers moved was blurry. Code was released. Following Rhys's compartmentalized instructions, Jax and the crew launched simultaneous, low-level denial-of-service attacks against unrelated city infrastructure servers throughout the city. This was done as digital chaff to confuse and divert IT security that was keeping an eye on the Gala broadcast and OmniCorp's network. Rhys kept an eye on his console, monitoring the deployment and making sure the diversions were attracting notice. He then started the main exploit.

Vance's fluidly delivered platitudes about OmniCorp's dedication to the city suddenly vanished into digital static on the screen Anya was watching. PROJECT CHIMERA: THE OMNICORP FRAME-UP, which was written in bright white on a black background, took the place of the OmniCorp website homepage. At the same time, Vance's visage briefly changed to the same title card on the Gala's large ballroom screens before the shaky, low-light footage from the hangar started to play.

Thorne's voice sounded eerily clear above the crackling, echoey audio: "Ghost problem handled… Collateral with the guard is unfortunate, but essential. HV personally signed off. Then, in a gruff response, Silas said, "Payment confirmed?" “Half now, half when the Ghost is confirmed neutralized…” Thorne repeated. Vance wants him to leave. Indefinitely.

Among the Gala attendees, a wave of bewilderment swiftly gave way to startled whispers. Vance's face twisted in rage as he stared in shock, briefly transfixed on stage. Security guards scurried around, yelling into radios. Outside, technicians scrambled to get the signal back under control in the broadcast truck. Anya was filled with ferocious, victorious hope—it was working!

However, the triumph was fleeting. The feed quickly returned to a static Gala logo less than 90 seconds into the recording, before the entire context could be revealed. The corrupted broadcast link was severed by a kill switch that Vance's security team had installed, probably in anticipation of cyberattacks. Rhys noticed alerts flash on his screen at the same time. Advanced tracing algorithms, which were much faster than traditional network security, were quickly identifying the hack's origin and getting past his first layers of obfuscation. They were approaching far more quickly than he had expected.

He set off the fail-safe right away, guaranteeing that the complete evidence bundles were sent in the direction of Captain Rostova, the ADA, and Carter. Although the payload was delivered, the public exposure was limited and insufficient. On the burner, he attempted to contact Anya. "Anya? feed cut. They're trying to find me. Status?

No answer. The encrypted channel was silent.

Anya hadn't had time to see that the feed was being interrupted. She was completely focused when the pandemonium erupted on TV. The dark vehicle quietly pulled up behind the bus shelter, but she didn't notice. It wasn't until they flanked her that she realized the two plainclothes figures were coming deliberately.

One of them flashed an Internal Affairs badge and said, "Anya Petrova?" "You need to come with us."

Her blood became icy. Her first inclination was to put the burner phone in her pocket, but the second agent was quicker and grabbed it out of her grasp. Grimly, "We'll take that," he said. "And any other unauthorized communication devices you might have."

"What is this?" Trying to appear cool, Anya demanded, but she wasn't feeling it. "I'm on administrative leave."

The first agent said, "Your leave status just became the least of your problems," with a stern gaze. "A significant cyberattack has been connected to the OmniCorp bombing inquiry. And just minutes after the attack started, you are utilizing an unregistered burner phone to keep an eye on the target event. It appears that we interfered with your cooperation. They forcefully grasped her arms. "You have the right to remain silent..."

As they guided her to the waiting automobile, the well-known Miranda warning words seemed completely unfamiliar. She now realized that Vance had made sure she was being watched actively in addition to simply filing a report. Her presence here and her attempt to signal Rhys provided them with the necessary confirmation. They caught her. Her acts and alliance were revealed. Rhys was all she could think about when the car door slammed shut, sealing her off from the night in the city. Was he able to escape?

Rhys was aware. The scene was bleak and violent, with the dead communication line and the abrupt increase in localized police radio chatter implying IA participation close to Anya's probable surveillance location. She was taken prisoner and corrupted. He had seconds. With frightening speed, the trace algorithms were figuring out where he was. Sirens approached his sector, getting louder and closer.

He may be observed using his prearranged escape routes. The secret was improvisation. Using his command console, he initiated a data-wipe procedure, took a prepared go-bag that included just necessities and untraceable cash, and proceeded to a ventilation shaft—not his main exit, but a less visible one. Blocks away, smoke bombs that were positioned on delayed timers close to his main exits exploded, increasing the confusion and, ideally, diverting the first responders.

Just as he heard the heavy thud of boots hitting the roof above, he slid into the shaft and descended quickly into the dark, mechanical innards of the structure. His thoughts were racing as he made his way through the well-known labyrinth of ducts and passageways. Anya got caught. Only a portion of the evidence was made public. Vance was aware that Rhys had assistance, and now that it had been neutralized, he would be tying everything together and getting rid of any loose ends, including Silas, Thorne, and the actual proof. Due to their poor understanding of the scheme, Jax and the crew were probably compromised by association and are now at risk. He was completely alone, being pursued by Vance's forces who wanted to permanently quiet him as well as by the police who believed he was a terrorist.

Though not on its intended target, the trap had snapped shut.