Chapter 3 - The Federal Intrusion
The SUV was boxed in before Audrey could even shift into gear.
The heavy doors of the estate swung open as she pulled back up to the house, but it wasn't Colin or his mother. It was four men in tactical windbreakers with “FEDERAL AGENT” emblazoned in yellow across their chests.
Audrey stepped out of the car, Maisie held tight to her chest in the carrier, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
"Audrey Vance?" The lead agent, a man with steel-gray hair and eyes that looked like they’d seen too many ruined lives, stepped toward her.
"Yes," she said, her voice steady. "I own this house. I assume you have a warrant?"
"We have a warrant to seize the property and all electronic assets," the agent said, his voice clipped and devoid of empathy. "We have evidence that this estate has been used as a hub for international wire fraud and the laundering of corporate assets tied to a shell company in the Cayman Islands."
Audrey blinked. "Wire fraud? I’m the owner. I—"
"We know who you are, Ms. Vance," the agent interrupted, stepping aside to let her see the front door.
Inside, the house was already being dismantled. Technicians were stripping the walls, pulling wires from the molding, and carrying out stacks of servers—servers she hadn't known existed.
"We’ve been tracking this 'Unit 402' operation for eight months," the agent continued. "We were waiting for the occupants to vacate so we could seize the hardware without risking collateral damage to the residents. We just didn't expect the husband to flee to Florida."
Audrey felt the world tilt. "Colin? He’s... he’s involved?"
"He's the architect, ma'am," the agent said, his expression softening just a fraction. "He didn't lock you out to keep you from the house. He locked you out because the server capacity required to run his laundering algorithm was pushing the home’s bandwidth to the limit. He couldn't have you using the Wi-Fi. It would have triggered the surveillance software he was using to hide his tracks."
May you like
He pointed to the walnut console table—the one she had bought in Charleston. A technician was using a laser cutter to slice through the wood.
"He was using your house, your credit, and your identity to mask his movements. He needed you outside so you wouldn't see the alerts on your own network."
