Chapter 5 - Underground Syndicate
The elevator hatch was pried open with a crowbar. Leo dropped through the opening, landing squarely on his feet in the dust-choked darkness of an abandoned subway station beneath Lower Manhattan.
From the shadows of the abandoned tiled platform, an older woman stepped into the flickering emergency lights. She wore grease-stained overalls and a hard hat, a heavy wrench resting against her shoulder. Her face was weathered, lined with decades of working the city's utility veins.
""You're late, Boss,"" she said, spitting on the rusted tracks.
""Traffic was hostile, Martha,"" Leo said, brushing drywall dust from his tiny lapels. ""Did you secure the analog transmitter?""
""Secured and insulated from the Ministry's trackers,"" Martha said, gesturing toward an old subway car converted into a mobile server farm. Cables thick as pythons snaked across the platform, hummed with raw, unfiltered electrical voltage. ""We’ve got enough juice to broadcast forty miles. But why run? You’re three years old. You could just cry and let Child Protective Services take the heat.""
Leo scoffed, stepping into the railcar. ""Child Protective Services is owned by a shell corporation registered in Delaware, Martha. I wrote their incorporation papers before I was weaned.""
He climbed onto a wooden crate in front of an ancient green-screen terminal. His small hands began to fly across the mechanical keyboard with horrifying speed.
""They think thirty followers is an arrestable offense,"" Leo muttered, his reflection flickering in the CRT screen. ""They don't know that every single follower on my private server is a former Fortune 500 CEO who went off-grid.""
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Suddenly, the hum of the servers spiked violently. A high-pitched whine rose from the platform.
""They tapped the grid,"" Martha yelled, raising her wrench. ""They followed your trace!""
