Chapter 17 | EclypsiaCrypt

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Unconscious, bloodied, a witness to a brutal assault involuntarily silenced, Terry no longer conveyed the impression of eternal youth or eccentric vigor. His swollen face and the quantity of blood obscured the reality of his being. How had all this happened? How had this brilliant, energetic man been defeated and by whom?

To John's right, Carter stared in stunned disbelief at this sordid scene, his unsteady steps indicating the strength of his pain and shock. Since their first meeting, John had sensed in them a complementary bond worthy of Fred and George Weasley.

Shocked, the lawyer went to his comrade to ensure his survival. He couldn't help but weep over Terry's bloodied body while the exchanges of the caregivers created an anxiety-inducing background noise. Desolation and chaos—elements that brought painful memories back to John, who couldn't shake off a sense of guilt regarding the tragedy that had befallen Terry.

"He's dead..."Staggering, in tears, Carter had announced the news to his new ally. Unable to hold back, he collapsed on the sidewalk, his face in his hands.

"I...," John stammered, "I'm sincerely sorry, please accept my deepest condolences."

These words would be of no use, he knew. Carter's grief seemed disconnected from any sense of time or space.

"He was my brother, flesh of my flesh..."

His brother? Hadn't he said they were friends and associates? No matter. In this circumstance, asking a question about it would have been inappropriate.

"I swear Katika will pay," declared Carter with a deep, hateful voice. "I will make them pay for all the harm they have done and plan to do..."

Courageously, he found the strength to stand up, breathing heavily, eyes burning with a thirst for vengeance.

"Why?" asked John, "Why on earth did they attack Terry like this? How could they know our hideout?"

The lawyer burst into a joyless laughter.

"They have means we can't even fathom. But the Mole plans to provide us with information as soon as possible to deal with it..." Without further delay, he headed for the adjacent street.

"We better move fast," he announced, "we shouldn't linger. The feds already have you in their sights, and this shootout only worsens the situation."

Absolute trust in his ally was crucial, and John was beginning to feel a strong headache from overthinking.

They walked for about twenty minutes before taking a bus and stopping at a deserted bus stop in front of an abandoned property condemned by boards, which they removed without real difficulties.

Entering an old building that must have once been spacious and comfortable, John observed a foyer filled with debris of all kinds: plaster, moldy planks, hundreds of screws. Renovation work must have been suspended for a long time, John thought, judging by the strong musty smell and the dead rat on an old moldy couch.

Paying no attention to the repulsive appearance of the place, Carter made sure to close the door and headed towards what remained of the kitchen. He moved an old dishwasher behind which, to John's great surprise, was a safe. Turning the combination, Carter pulled out... a briefcase, locked with a padlock. Once the second code was unlocked, the lawyer took out a USB key.

"This key contains access to a unique portal, only authorized individuals by the Mole and myself can access it. It can't be found on the Internet; it's an encrypted channel developed by our source of information through which she contacts us."

He quickly took out a laptop from his bag, connected the key, and said, "I will connect immediately to EclypsiaCrypt, that's the name of the channel. The Mole has probably already sent us a message."

How could he find the strength to continue the fight against this enemy with so much detachment? He had just lost his brother less than an hour ago...

Suddenly, the lawyer exclaimed a swear word that John had never heard before. For a mysterious reason, Carter had regained the defeated look he had when announcing Terry's death.

"I should have known!" he yelled.

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