Vikram fought his way through the remaining guards, his ears ringing from the chaos. He reached the server. His tech expert’s voice crackled through a backup radio: "Vikram, you have ten seconds. Pull the red thermal sync, not the power cable, or the whole thing self-destructs!"
"Team A, intercept at the Toll Plaza," Vikram commanded into his headset. "Remember, we need the server intact. If that truck fries, we lose the encryption key forever." Vikram fought his way through the remaining guards,
Vikram grabbed his jacket and headed for the garage. He knew where they were going. There was a "dead zone" near the old docks—the only place where the upload could be completed without satellite interference. not the power cable