The Second Coming of Atlas Prime

Chapter 11

Atlas checked his watch as he entered the Finnegan mansion's eastern wing. The morning sun painted the marble floors golden, highlighting the excessive luxury that surrounded him. His phone vibrated with a confirmation text: "Package ready for delivery. Awaiting final green light."

He pocketed the device, satisfaction warming his chest. Everything was proceeding according to plan.

The sound of hushed voices drew his attention to the partially opened door of the breakfast room. Atlas slowed his approach, listening.

"This merger is essential," Aaron's voice carried through the gap. "Eastern Holdings controls sixty percent of the international shipping routes we need. If we secure this deal today, our quarterly profits will triple overnight."

"And the Atlas situation?" Anola asked, her tone casual as if discussing the weather rather than the man they'd left for dead.

"Security has been doubled at all properties," Aaron replied. "But we can't postpone this meeting. Too much is at stake."

Atlas stepped back, composing his features into an expression of urgent concern before knocking sharply.

The conversation inside ceased immediately. "Enter," Aaron called.

Atlas pushed the door open, finding Aaron in a tailored Italian suit reviewing documents at the head of the table. Hannah sat beside him, barely touching her fruit plate, while Anola sipped coffee from bone china at the opposite end.

"Mr. Reed," Anola acknowledged, a slight flush rising to her cheeks. "Is something wrong?"

"I need to speak with you all," Atlas replied, his voice tense. "It's about Atlas Prime."

Aaron's head snapped up, the mention of that name like an electric shock. "What about him?"

"I've been making inquiries," Atlas explained, keeping his stance formal. "Through former colleagues in private security. I've discovered something concerning."

The three Finnegans exchanged wary glances. Hannah set down her fork, giving him her full attention.

"What is it?" she asked, anxiety tightening her features.

"There are whispers about a planned attack," Atlas continued, moving closer to the table. "Something targeting the Finnegan family specifically. Today."

"What kind of attack?" Aaron demanded, standing abruptly.

"My source couldn't provide details, only that it involves your meeting with Eastern Holdings this afternoon."

Aaron's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "How convenient that you suddenly have this information. Who exactly is this source of yours?"

"People who make it their business to know," Atlas replied smoothly. "I've worked in high-level security for years, sir. You don't survive in this field without maintaining certain connections."

"Why would Atlas target this meeting specifically?" Hannah asked, her voice trembling slightly. "It makes no sense."

Atlas turned to her, his expression grave. "Think about it. What better way to destroy the Finnegan family than to sabotage the biggest business deal of the year? In front of your competitors and allies? It's not just about physical harm—it's about ruining everything you've built."

"He's right," Anola interjected, setting down her coffee cup. "Atlas was always obsessed with the family business, even though he had no real claim to it. This would be perfect revenge."

Aaron paced the length of the breakfast table, his mind visibly working through the implications. "We can't cancel. The Eastern Holdings representatives have already flown in from Singapore."

"I'm not suggesting cancellation," Atlas clarified. "I'm recommending enhanced security protocols. Let me personally oversee the arrangements."

"Why should we trust you?" Aaron challenged, stopping directly in front of Atlas. "You appeared out of nowhere, and suddenly you have vital intelligence about a threat?"

Atlas met Aaron's skeptical gaze unflinchingly. "Because protecting your family is literally my job, sir. If I wanted to harm you, I've had plenty of opportunities."

Aaron's jaw clenched, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple as he weighed his options. The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.

"I believe him," Hannah said suddenly, her voice carrying more authority than usual. She rose from her chair, moving to stand beside Atlas. "James has proven his loyalty to me. He's been nothing but professional and thorough."

Atlas fought to suppress his smile at her defense. The irony was almost too delicious—his victim advocating for her future destroyer.

"I agree with Hannah," Anola added, her eyes lingering on Atlas a moment too long. "Mr. Reed has demonstrated his... commitment to our family's wellbeing."

Aaron looked between the two women, clearly frustrated by their united front. Something unspoken passed between mother and son—a silent acknowledgment that Anola's word was final, even in Aaron's domain.

"Fine," Aaron conceded finally, though his eyes remained suspicious. "But you report directly to me about every detail, every precaution. And you don't leave my sight during the meeting."

"Of course, sir," Atlas nodded respectfully.

"The Eastern Holdings representatives will be here at three," Aaron continued, checking his watch. "You have five hours to implement whatever additional security measures you deem necessary. But remember—this deal is worth billions. Nothing can go wrong."

"I understand completely." Atlas turned to leave, but Aaron caught his arm.

"One more thing, Reed," Aaron's voice dropped to a threatening whisper. "If this turns out to be false information, or if anything—anything at all—goes wrong today, I'll hold you personally responsible."

Atlas nodded solemnly. "I would expect nothing less."

…

The Finnegan mansion's grand conference room had been transformed into a fortress. Additional security personnel patrolled the corridors, windows were secured, and every entrance monitored by both cameras and armed guards.

At precisely three o'clock, the delegation from Eastern Holdings arrived—three immaculately dressed Asian businessmen flanked by their own security detail.

Atlas watched from his position behind Aaron's chair as pleasantries were exchanged. Contracts were produced, presentations delivered, and numbers discussed that would make most people's heads spin.

Hannah sat to Aaron's right, playing the role of supportive fiancée perfectly. Anola had positioned herself strategically at the opposite end of the table, maintaining a dignified presence while carefully observing the proceedings.

Two hours into the meeting, as pens hovered above the final signature lines of the contract, Atlas's phone vibrated silently in his pocket. A single text message appeared on the screen: "Package delivered."

He glanced at his watch, counting down silently. Ten. Nine. Eight.

"Before we finalize," the lead representative from Eastern Holdings was saying, "I must address certain... concerns that have reached our attention."

Aaron's smile faltered slightly. "Concerns? We've been fully transparent in all our disclosures."

Seven. Six. Five.

"Not about the deal itself," the businessman replied, his expression unreadable. "About your family's... practices."

Four. Three.

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. Aaron straightened, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the armrests of his chair.

"What exactly are you implying?" Anola cut in, her voice sharp as steel.

Two. One.

The businessman reached into his briefcase and extracted a sealed envelope. "This was delivered to our hotel this morning."

Zero.