Chapter 27 CHAPTER 27
~THE OTHER NETWORK~
The note with Leo’s number felt like a live wire in Elysia’s pocket. Kieran’s trust was a blade placed in her hand— effective, dangerous, and entirely his. Using his resources meant stepping deeper into his shadow world, a world of drivers who were not drivers, of threats handled off the books.
She needed a counterweight. She needed someone whose methods were clear, whose loyalty was unquestionable, and whose world operated on a different kind of honor.
She called her brother.
“Sia? Is everything okay?” William’s voice was alert, immediate.
“I need a consult. Not legal. Tactical.”
A brief pause. “I’ll be there in twenty.”
He arrived not in uniform, but in the same kind of functional, unremarkable clothes he’d worn at the cabin. He carried the quiet authority of a man used to assessing threats and terrain.
He listened in utter silence as she laid it out: the algorithm, Dr. Aris Thorne, the thin thread linking him to Bennett, the need to find a paranoid ghost before a trial in two weeks.
When she finished, William let out a low whistle. “You’re not playing in the shallow end anymore.”
“I know. Kieran gave me a name. A resource. But…”
“But you don’t want to be in his debt, and you don’t fully trust where that resource came from,” William finished for her. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Smart. So you came to me.”
“You have friends. People who find people. Discreetly.”
“I do.” He rubbed his jaw, thinking. “But Sia, if this Thorne guy is as off-grid and paranoid as you say, a direct approach by anyone, even a friendly face, will spook him. He’ll vanish. You need a key. A reason for him to want to talk to you.”
“What key? I’m a lawyer for the man whose company he helped attack.”
“No.” William said, his eyes sharpening. “You’re the lawyer who exposed the algorithm. You saw his work. You understood it. From what you’re saying, this guy is an artist. His code is his masterpiece, even if it’s a weapon. He’s probably followed the news, seen you tear it apart in your motion. He might be furious. Or… intrigued.”
The idea was a spark in the dark. Appeal to the artist’s pride, not the mercenary’s greed. “So I reach out. But how? He’s a ghost.”
William smiled, a soldier’s grim smile. “Ghosts still need to eat. They need power for their servers. They need parts.” He pulled out his own phone.
“I have a friend. Jax. He’s a… procurement specialist for sensitive electronics. If your Dr. Thorne has bought a custom cooling unit or a specific rare-earth magnet in the last six months, Jax will know the channel. We find the supplier, we send a message through the supply line.”
It was a different kind of network. Not corporate, not criminal, but pragmatic. A web of people who moved things in the quiet spaces.
“Can you do it without Kieran knowing?” She asked, the question feeling like a betrayal even as she asked it.
William’s gaze hardened. “This isn’t about him. This is about your case, and your safety. We keep this loop tight. You, me, Jax. No one else.” He stood up.
“I’ll make the call. You draft your message. Make it good. You’re not asking for a favor. You’re offering a chance for a creator to control the narrative of his creation.”
An hour later, William had a name: a boutique electronics dealer in Oregon who specialized in “discreet, high-performance packages” shipped to remote P.O. boxes. The dealer was known to be taciturn but reliable.
Elysia crafted her message. It was not a legal summons or a plea. It was a professional communiqué, typed on plain text and saved to a brand-new, encrypted flash drive.
To Dr. Aris Thorne,
Re: Your work on Covert Data Layer Manipulation (cf. ‘The Hermes Partition’ in D’Angelo Server Sys-44)
I have admired the elegance of your theoretical framework for years. Seeing its practical implementation was… instructive. The jury will see it as a weapon. I see it as a proof of concept. A dangerous one.
Before it is entered into evidence as Exhibit A in a fraud case, I would value the architect’s perspective on its intended function, and the identity of its commissioner. A conversation, not a confrontation.
Your discretion is guaranteed. This inquiry exists outside official channels.
— E.C.
She included no threats, no promises of immunity she couldn’t give. Just recognition, and a question.
William took the flash drive. “Jax can get this to the Oregon guy. He’ll know how to pass it up the chain. It’ll take a few days. Maybe more. If Thorne bites, he’ll contact you. How?”
She created a new, secure email address, one with no ties to her name or firm, and wrote it on a slip of paper. “Here.”
William nodded, pocketing both the drive and the paper. “Now, we wait. And you focus on the trial you can actually see.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing, Sia. Building your own case. Don’t let D’Angelo’s war become the only war.”
After he left, Elysia felt a strange sense of clarity. For weeks, she had been reacting— to Kieran’s demands, to Bennett’s threats, to Sylvia’s betrayal. Now, she was acting.
She had initiated a covert operation of her own, using her brother’s integrity as her shield and her own intellect as the bait.
She looked at the sticky note with Leo’s number, still on her desk. Kieran’s offer of help. She picked it up, considering. Then she carefully filed it in a drawer. She wouldn’t use it. Not yet. This was her play. Her network. Her risk.
The realization was both empowering and isolating. She was no longer just Kieran D’Angelo’s lawyer. She was a commander on a fragmented battlefield, juggling a public trial, a shadow war, and now a clandestine outreach to a digital ghost.
The connections that held her world together— family, professional ethics, the law itself, were being stretched to their limits. But for the first time, she was the one choosing where the pressure would be applied.