Beneath the Billionaire Mask - Chapter 77: Chapter 77

Red Veil Node 7 – Underground Command Center – 4:16 AM
Replica-07 watched the live feed of Elena sleeping.
Every blink, every micro-expression, every breath—flawless mimicry.
Except for one thing.
Emotion.
Replica-07 turned to the technician beside her. “She hesitates when she dreams.”
“Dreaming is the brain’s reconciliation process,” he muttered. “You don’t need it.”
She tilted her head. “Then why was I built to want it?”
The man didn’t answer. He simply injected another line of code into the neural interface attached to her spine.
“Your objective is not to think,” he said. “It’s to replace.”
Safehouse Echo – Surveillance Room – 5:03 AM
Julia’s voice crackled through a newly secured comm channel.
“I traced the Red Veil relay through a military-grade ghost server,” she said. “The encryption’s bleeding-edge, but it slipped for just long enough to reveal one thing.”
A still frame loaded onto the screen—Replica-07, suited up, flawless, and terrifyingly familiar.
Elena froze. “She’s already out?”
“She’s in Johannesburg,” Julia confirmed. “And based on her movement logs, she’s not just targeting you.”
Liana leaned forward. “Who else?”
Julia hesitated. “She’s moving toward a United Nations security summit. And Adrian’s name is on the guest list.”
Johannesburg – Private Airstrip – 8:12 AM
The private jet descended into a city still blinking from last night’s blackout—a deliberate digital test run initiated by Red Veil to measure control capabilities.
Adrian stood in the aisle of the aircraft, adjusting the cuffs of his suit jacket. He was back in full armor—Blackwood, the strategist. But his eyes remained vulnerable, tethered to something more human.
Elena placed a hand on his shoulder. “If we don’t make it—”
“We will.”
She swallowed. “And if she gets to you first?”
Adrian met her gaze. “Then you’ll know it’s not me if I stop choosing you.”
Red Veil Node 7 – Mirror Chamber – 9:17 AM
Replica-07 donned her final disguise: Elena’s voice, mannerisms, scars—even the glint of trauma she was programmed to recall.
But something wasn’t right.
As she stared at her own reflection, something flickered behind her eyes.
Not code.
Not protocol.
Memory?
She touched her cheek slowly. “Why do I remember the sound of his voice when he says my name?”
From the hallway, an alarm blared.
She didn’t move.
Not until she whispered, “Adrian.”
Safehouse Echo – Liana’s Lab – Same Time
Liana froze as the replication system spiked.
“Julia,” she said into her mic. “Something’s wrong.”
“What?”
“The clone is showing erratic brainwave patterns. She’s deviating.”
“From programming?”
“No… from herself.”
Johannesburg – UN Security Summit Grounds – 11:24 AM
The summit compound was a fortress—layers of biometric locks, drones sweeping overhead, armored vehicles parked in tight perimeter rows. But none of it was designed for a threat that looked exactly like the people it was meant to protect.
Adrian walked through the secure hallway beside Elena and Liana, flanked by armed escorts. He scanned each face. Anyone could be her. Replica-07.
“Julia, talk to me,” he muttered into his comms.
Her voice came back fast. “She’s inside. I tapped into the surveillance grid. Facial match—97.3%. She’s posing as a junior security aide. She’s headed for Conference Hall B.”
“That’s the Prime Minister’s address,” Liana said sharply. “She’s not just targeting Adrian.”
“She’s triggering a political chain reaction,” Elena realized. “Frame him, crash the summit, and paint Blackwood as the inside man.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened. “No one else dies because of my name. Not today.”
Surveillance Hub – 11:31 AM
Replica-07 adjusted her earpiece, mimicking the aide’s voice patterns flawlessly. Her forged ID passed each checkpoint. Her steps were silent. Calculated.
Her target wasn’t the Prime Minister.
It was Adrian Blackwood.
She touched the cold metal of the hidden injection module strapped to her thigh—one dose of synthesized neurotoxin that would mimic a stroke. Fast. Untraceable.
She rehearsed the timing again. Two steps. Left hand distraction. Syringe to the neck. Walk away.
Her hand hovered near the security pass as she entered the final hallway.
Then she stopped.
A girl.
Ten years old. Wandering. Lost.
The replica’s pupils dilated. A memory—faint, fabricated—rose unbidden. A child’s laugh in a courtyard. Fingers sticky with ice cream. Adrian’s voice saying, “You’re safe now.”
She blinked hard. Her hand trembled.
“Override,” she whispered, fighting a surge in her chest. “Override emotion. Resume mission.”
But nothing obeyed.
She dropped the syringe.
It clattered—loud, unmistakable.
Conference Hall B – Seconds Later
The sound echoed.
Adrian’s head whipped around.
“Move!” Liana barked.
They rushed toward the hallway. Security scrambled.
Elena reached first, eyes locking with… herself.
Replica-07 stared back, wide-eyed, disoriented.
“You’re not me,” Elena whispered.
“I know,” the replica said. “But I don’t want to hurt him.”
Footsteps thundered down the corridor.
“You have five seconds before they shoot,” Elena warned, voice low and urgent. “Come with us, or they’ll erase you.”
Replica-07 glanced at the child behind her—then at Adrian.
Then nodded.
And ran.
Blackwood Extraction Van – En Route to Safehouse – 12:14 PM
Liana slammed the doors shut as they sped away from the summit. Sirens flared behind them. But inside, silence reigned.
Elena stared at her replica—so alike it hurt to breathe.
“You hesitated,” Elena said softly.
“I remembered something that was never mine,” the clone replied.
Adrian leaned forward. “What’s your designation?”
“CR-01,” she said. “They called me the Canary.”
“The Canary?” Liana echoed.
The clone nodded. “Because I was designed to die first. To see if the air was safe for the others.”
Blackwood Extraction Van – 12:24 PM
Rain drummed against the bulletproof windows as the van sped through the heart of Johannesburg. Elena sat across from the clone—herself, but not. The same face, the same eyes, but they held something distant. Conditioned. Broken.
“She said they called her the Canary,” Liana murmured, watching from the corner. “Do you know what that means?”
“In the mines,” Adrian answered quietly, “they used canaries to detect poison gas. If the bird died, the air wasn’t safe.”
Elena’s gaze didn’t waver. “You were meant to die?”
The clone—CR-01—nodded once. “I was programmed to enter volatile missions first. To evaluate risk… and survive long enough to transmit outcomes.”
“And the others?” Elena pressed.
“They’re more advanced. Cleaner memory injections. Tighter leash.”
Adrian frowned. “So why break your programming? Why now?”
CR-01 looked at him slowly. “Because I remembered you.”
That quieted the room.
“You held me once,” she said. “Not this version of me… but enough of her lived in me to recognize your voice. The way you said my name. It glitched the protocols. I shouldn’t even be able to choose. But I did.”
Elena inhaled shakily. “They’re going to come after her. The second they realize she’s gone.”
“They’ll come after all of us,” Liana said darkly. “And if the Canary can override, the rest might too.”
Adrian leaned forward. “We need to isolate her file. Extract the anomalies. Julia needs to see this—everything. The Canary isn’t a failure. She’s a threat to the entire replication program.”
“But she’s me,” Elena said, quietly. “Or some version. What if she’s more than just data? What if they gave her part of my soul?”
CR-01 didn’t speak.
But she reached into her jacket, pulled something from a hidden seam. A metal chip. Scratched, old—embedded with what looked like organic tissue.
“What is that?” Liana asked, leaning in.
“Failsafe,” CR-01 said. “If I ever defected, this activates. It doesn’t just kill me. It sends a signal—to every remaining operative in the replication program.”
“What kind of signal?” Adrian asked.
Her expression didn’t change.
“Kill switch.”
Meanwhile – Unknown Location – 12:37 PM
Dozens of screens lit the underground command room. A masked technician stood before the largest display, watching the extraction van move across a satellite map.
“She hesitated,” the technician muttered. “The Canary… she didn’t execute.”
A voice crackled through the speaker—deep, cold. “And?”
“She’s with Blackwood now.”
A pause.
Then the voice spoke again:
“Then let’s see what happens when a ghost learns it has a heartbeat.”
A red icon began to blink on the map.
REPLICATION FAILSAFE ENGAGED
Safehouse Echo – Sublevel C – 1:03 PM
Elena sat alone in the medical observation room, separated from the Canary by a pane of reinforced glass. The clone mirrored her movements almost unconsciously—tilting her head, blinking at the same rhythm. But the eyes weren’t quite hers. There was something behind them: pain honed into obedience.
She pressed her hand against the glass.
The Canary hesitated.
Then mirrored the gesture.
“Who were you before they made you me?” Elena asked, barely above a whisper.
CR-01 looked down, voice soft. “A fragment. A trial version. I never had a name. Just missions. Just silence.”
“But you remember me now?”
“I remember a feeling. Warmth… then fire.”
Elena’s breath caught.
Behind her, Adrian watched silently through the open door.
“She’s not just a threat,” Elena said to him. “She’s a warning.”
“A warning of what?”
“That if we don’t stop this program… there won’t be one Canary. There’ll be hundreds. Thousands. Replicas of people they think are useful. Disposable.”
Adrian stepped inside, the chip CR-01 handed over now clutched in his palm. “Julia’s analyzing this. It’s old code—but embedded with a traceable signal. We can backtrack the origin node.”
“And if we trigger the wrong response?” Liana asked, joining them. “If this is some kind of sleeper fuse, and we light the match—”
“We already lit it the moment we took her in,” Elena said. Her voice was calm. Resigned.
A beat.
CR-01 looked between them. “There’s something else.”
“What?” Adrian asked, instantly alert.
The Canary’s gaze locked with Elena’s.
“There’s a second Elena Cruz… not just a clone. A template. She was the one they copied from. And she’s not dead.”
Elena’s heart dropped.
“You’re telling me there’s another real me out there?”
“Real… and hidden.”
“Where?”
CR-01’s lips trembled. “That’s what the kill switch protects.”
A soft hum echoed from the tablet beside them.
Incoming Transmission: NODE 1-BRAVO
The screen lit up with coordinates, scrolling data, and a final line of text:
“PROJECT: SIREN ACTIVE. PRIMARY SUBJECT IN CONTAINMENT. ALERT: CR-01 BREACH REGISTERED.”
Elena stepped back.
Adrian’s voice was like steel. “They know we have her.”
And from the other side of the glass, CR-01 whispered:
“They’re coming for the original.”