Beneath the Billionaire Mask - Chapter 56: Chapter 56

Blackbird Jet – En Route to D.C. – 8:03 AM
The hum of the engines was the only sound between them. Adrian sat across from Elena, bandaged and bruised, scanning the latest decrypted batch from the Phantom Archive. Elena hadn’t looked away from her screen in hours.
Not since the final message from her father loaded.
“If you’ve found this… you’ve come further than I ever hoped.”
His voice was calm. Broken. A man nearing the end of his line.
“You’re not just my daughter. You’re my legacy. But this legacy was never meant to be power. It was meant to be proof.
That justice doesn’t have to wear a flag. That truth can survive any system. Even if it kills us in the process.”
“If you’re ready to open Nightfall to the world… then you have to do one thing first:
Don’t just tell the story. Finish it.”
“Everything you need is in the Black Directive. The rest… is in your hands.”
The screen flickered.
And went dark.
Adrian reached across the table, hand covering hers.
“You don’t have to carry this alone.”
Elena’s eyes were glassy. “I know. But I think he always meant for me to.”
Julia leaned in from her seat. “We’ve triangulated the next key drop. It’s not just about D.C. anymore. Cassian’s sending mercenaries to wipe the backup locations. Zurich. Jakarta. Nairobi. The Tribunal will fall if we don’t get there first.”
Isobel, sitting near the back, tapped a screen. “Then we divide and strike. I’ll take Nairobi. Julia handles Zurich. You two—”
“Elena and I go to D.C.,” Adrian said firmly.
Isobel studied them. “It’s going to be a trap.”
“That’s what makes it worth walking into,” Elena replied.
Elsewhere – UNX Central Vault – Jakarta
A black-ops strike team breached the inner sanctum. Alarms wailed, lights flashing. Within minutes, fire ate through servers, cleansing decades of secrets. A single figure in a white suit watched from a rooftop across the street.
A voice in her earpiece.
“Report, Phoenix.”
“Jakarta scrubbed,” the woman replied. “Zurich next. D.C. after.”
“Make sure they don’t leave D.C. alive.”
The woman smiled faintly.
“With pleasure.”
Airspace – 42 Minutes Outside D.C.
The jet’s radar lit up.
Missile lock.
“Evasive now!” Julia screamed, gripping the cockpit controls. Adrian leapt forward, pulling Elena with him. A shockwave rocked the jet as a proximity strike clipped the wing.
Oxygen masks dropped.
Alarms screeched.
The sky tilted.
They were going down.
Blackbird Jet – Spiraling Down – 8:49 AM
The world outside blurred—trees, sky, sunlight flashing like broken glass. Elena clung to the overhead straps, heart jackhammering. Adrian was at Julia’s side in the cockpit, yelling instructions she could barely hear over the chaos.
“Dump fuel—now!”
“Already did!” Julia shouted. “Landing gear’s locked, and we’ve lost hydraulics on the left engine. We’re gliding on a ghost!”
Elena stumbled forward. “Where are we crashing?!”
“Somewhere outside Chesapeake!” Julia shouted. “Hold tight!”
The forest below grew teeth—sharp treetops like spears waiting for impact.
Adrian’s hand found Elena’s. His grip was bruising, grounding. “Look at me.”
She did.
“If we survive this, we go all the way. No more delays. No more hiding.”
She nodded.
The plane slammed into the trees.
Metal tore. Sparks erupted. Panels exploded around them. Elena’s body whipped sideways as everything went white.
Moments Later – Inside the Wreckage
Smoke thickened the air. The cabin was split in half, the tail of the jet embedded in a ravine. Fires crackled. Sparks fizzed from exposed wires. Distant sirens.
Elena groaned and rolled onto her side, blood dripping from her temple. “Adrian?”
A cough.
Then: “Here.”
He pushed debris off himself, limping but upright. “Julia?”
“I’m good!” her voice rang out, muffled. “Stuck under something—help!”
They scrambled toward the cockpit, pried open a panel, and pulled her out.
“No broken bones,” Julia said breathlessly. “But the relay? Toast.”
Adrian looked around. “Phones, comms, GPS—all fried.”
“So we walk?” Elena asked, wiping blood from her cheek.
“Not yet,” Adrian said, peering through a shattered window. “Because we’re not alone.”
Across the field, shadows moved.
Silent.
Tactical.
Armed.
Cassian Trent had sent boots.
Forest Perimeter – 9:04 AM
A bullet cracked through the trees.
“Run!” Adrian grabbed Elena’s hand and dragged her downhill. Julia vanished into the opposite direction, gun drawn, eyes wild.
They sprinted, ducking through brush, adrenaline drowning the pain.
“Do they know we survived?” Elena asked between breaths.
“Of course,” Adrian muttered. “That’s the point. They want to finish it face-to-face.”
A sharp crack.
A tranquilizer dart embedded in a tree inches from Elena’s shoulder.
“They’re not here to kill us,” Adrian said grimly. “They want to take us.”
Elena’s heart thudded. “Why?”
He looked at her.
Because you’re the last piece of the puzzle.
Because Nightfall ends—or begins
Hidden Creek Bunker – 10:03 AM
Cassian Trent watched the drone footage as the downed jet burned behind them.
He smiled faintly. “Bring her in alive. I want to see if she has her father's defiance...or his weakness.
Woods – Near Chesapeake, Virginia – 10:21 AM
The scent of burning metal followed them like a ghost.
Elena stumbled through the underbrush, thorns tearing at her arms. Adrian moved ahead, eyes scanning, wounded but determined.
“I can see the road,” he said, voice tight. “Half a mile. We make it there, we might catch a signal.”
“What if they circle back?” Elena asked.
“They will,” he said. “But we’ll be gone.”
Behind them, the sound of boots. Radio static. Muffled voices.
“They’re moving northbound—female target has the chip—Blackbird team converge—non-lethal extraction.”
Elena froze. “They want the chip.”
Adrian turned to her, urgency hardening his voice. “Give it to me. I’ll draw them off.”
“No,” she said immediately. “We stick together.”
“We can’t if they take you. Elena, if Cassian gets that chip—he doesn’t just erase Nightfall. He rewrites it.”
Another voice cut through the comms nearby:
“Visual on both targets. Prep intercept.”
“Split,” Adrian said. “You go low by the stream. Head west. I’ll meet you past the utility station.”
Elena hesitated.
“Trust me,” he said, already backing away.
And then he ran—straight toward the sounds of pursuit.
Elena – Streambed Ravine – 10:37 AM
Her lungs burned. Mud coated her boots. But still she pressed on, gripping the chip like it was her heartbeat.
Suddenly—movement ahead.
She ducked.
Two operatives passed inches from her, scanning with infrared goggles.
She held her breath.
They didn’t see her.
As they moved on, her hand slipped into her jacket and gripped the cold steel of the small pistol Isobel gave her.
Just in case.
Because if they found her… she wasn’t going quietly.
Adrian – Utility Station Ruins – 10:49 AM
He limped behind an old substation, blood soaking his sleeve. But he kept his grip tight on the decoy chip.
Two agents approached fast.
He raised his hands. “Looking for me?”
They didn’t hesitate—firing a stun round straight into his chest.
Adrian collapsed.
Breathing, but barely.
As they bound his wrists and lifted him into the van, one agent spoke into a receiver:
“Target one acquired.
Female still unconfirmed.
Prepare holding site for extraction.”
Cassian Trent – Undisclosed Black Site
A screen flickered to life.
The image of Adrian—bound, unconscious—loaded.
And in the corner, Elena’s heat signature, hidden deep in the woods.
Cassian narrowed his eyes. “Split up,” he murmured. “Clever.”
He leaned back, fingers steepled.
“Let her run. Let her feel like she’s winning.
Because the only thing more powerful than truth… is hope.”
Woods – Outside Chesapeake – 11:02 AM
Elena’s legs ached. Every branch scraped her skin, every footstep deeper into the forest soaked her in dread. But she didn’t stop.
She couldn’t.
Somewhere behind her, Adrian had taken the fall—his face burned into her memory, bloodied but fearless, as he turned to face the oncoming strike team.
Now she was alone, carrying the last uncorrupted piece of the Phantom Archive. The chip pulsed in her palm, cold and alive.
And Cassian Trent wanted it badly enough to kill for it.
Elena didn’t care.
She was done running.
Highway 87 – 11:19 AM
An old utility truck rattled along the road. Elena emerged from the woods and flagged it down, her voice hoarse.
The driver—a wiry woman in her sixties—squinted.
“You look like hell.”
“Feels worse,” Elena rasped. “Please. I need to reach D.C.”
The woman hesitated, then gestured. “Get in.”
Elena climbed in, slamming the door behind her, watching the treeline disappear in the side mirror.
Unknown Coordinates – Black Site Transport Van – 11:33 AM
Adrian regained consciousness to the hum of tires and restraints biting into his wrists. A needle stuck from his arm—sedatives, half-effective.
Across from him, a soldier in matte black armor stared forward, silent.
Adrian breathed through the pain. His voice was gravel.
“You ever wonder what happens when the wrong people tell the right story?”
The soldier didn’t respond.
Adrian leaned back, letting the lull of the engine hide the whisper he muttered to himself:
“You’ll never find her.”
Because even in pain, even restrained—he’d made sure Elena had what she needed to finish this.
And this time… the ending was hers to write.
Cassian Trent – Observation Deck – 12:03 PM
Rain streaked the reinforced glass as Trent stared at two screens:
On the left, Adrian’s unconscious body en route to a classified site.
On the right, a shaky drone feed tracking Elena’s movement through Chesapeake toward a tower station—the last relay point before the Tribunal meet.
“Both pieces on the board,” he murmured.
A young analyst approached. “Shall we intercept her?”
Cassian didn’t look away.
“No,” he said slowly. “Let her climb the hill. Let her think the finish line is in reach.”
He turned to face his team fully.
“Then we cut the ground out from under her.”
Elena stared out at the capital rising in the distance closer now than ever before.
But something in her gut twisted like a warning.
Not fear.
Instinct.*
“They’re not finished,” she whispered. “They’re just getting started.”