True power does not mean sitting on a visible golden throne for everyone to shoot at; it means becoming the very air that the global markets breathe without anyone ever knowing you are in the room.
The air inside the underground Swiss vault was freezing, but the sheer volume of data cascading through Ethan Vance's mental interface made his forehead burn with sweat. He stood completely still at his father's original wooden workbench, his large hands resting flat against the cold metal casing of the primary server terminal. The master screen was still flashing a series of bright amber alerts as the remaining fragments of the old security code tried to reject his entry. Sarah's voice came through his wireless earpiece, sounding crisp and sharp despite the thousands of miles separating them.
