Chapter 18 Tag #3
“Moving on,” said Viper. “What we’ve surmised is that MacLeod provided access to several Highland properties for years.
Not just Dunravin, but twelve other locations we’ve now identified.
Hidden weapons caches in ancient tunnels, meeting sites in remote locations, safe houses in forgotten corners of Scotland.
He knew every hidden passage, every forgotten door, every tunnel that connected these old estates, because he’d spent his whole life exploring them. ”
“When I was a boy, he’d tell me stories about them,” Renegade said quietly. “Jacobite rebels hiding from English soldiers, smugglers moving whiskey, lovers meeting in secret. He made them sound magical.”
“If it’s any consolation, he appears willing to cooperate,” Typhon said. “He’s given us everything—names, dates, locations, financial records. He knows he’s going to prison, knows his family will be destroyed, but he’s trying to minimize the damage.”
“What’s happening to them?” Leila asked.
“My recommendation is that Fiona and Isla remain in protective custody once we’ve confirmed their innocence,” Viper answered.
“Obviously, Mrs. MacLeod is not handling the revelation well. Twenty-five years of marriage built on a fundamental lie, discovering her husband is not just nobility but a terrorist, is a lot to take in.”
“Where is Isla?” Renegade asked.
“Returning from Norway under protection. She doesn’t know yet. She’ll be told when she lands.”
He stood abruptly. “She shouldn’t hear it from strangers.”
“That’s not your concern,” Viper said.
“I’m making it my concern.” His tone brooked no argument. “She doesn’t deserve to have her world destroyed by someone reading from a report.”
“The buyers who lost money might target her,” Typhon warned. “What we’re doing ensures her safety.”
“I’ll take over her detail.” Renegade’s expression was set. “She’s innocent in all of this.” He stalked in the direction of the door.
“Hold up, Callen. You’re not dismissed,” Typhon said, studying him for several seconds. “Let’s take this offline and address it after this formal briefing is over.”
Renegade’s eyes scrunched, and I feared he’d disregard Typhon’s direct order. I was relieved when he returned to his previous position by the window.
“Let’s resume,” Typhon said to Viper, who nodded and brought a map of Scotland up on the display. It showed red markers scattered across the Highlands.
“These are all the locations MacLeod identified,” Typhon said. “It will take months to properly secure them all. Some of these tunnels haven’t been mapped in centuries. We have no idea what else might be hidden down there.”
“The network was more extensive than we imagined,” Viper said. “The Forgotten Sons, as they continued to refer to themselves, met regularly at the Imperial Club in Edinburgh. They had codes, procedures, fail-safes we’re still uncovering.”
“How did McLaren fit into all of this?” Lex asked.
Viper’s expression gentled. “We believe she was the person referred to as the Architect, although there is a chance that was an amalgam of more than one person. Years ago, when McLaren initially began her work on AIWS, I do believe her intent was altruistic. After the explosion at the AI facility six months ago, Ambrose knew she meant to destroy Orlov’s work that day, and while everyone else was evacuating, he went back for her—not to save her, but to use her.
She was injured, disoriented, and he convinced her that he was there to help.
By the time she realized the truth, she was imprisoned in a remote location, kept sedated, and controlled through threats against innocent people. ”
“According to MacLeod, she fought them at every step, at least once she realized he was driven by revenge and greed,” Typhon added.
“Even while rebuilding AIWS after the explosion and under duress, she added in system weaknesses, back doors, using the very codes that saved us. There came a time when she either knew or sensed Ambrose would eventually kill her, so she made sure someone else could stop him if she couldn’t. ”
“She reached out to Idris,” Leila said quietly. “And sent him the codes.”
“Your brother died protecting those codes,” Viper confirmed.
“He never fully understood what they were, but he knew they were important enough to hide. So he embedded them in files only you would treasure—family photos, childhood memories, things that seemed worthless to anyone else but that he knew you’d keep safe. ”
Even I hadn’t known that the encrypted files contained everything Viper had just listed.
The room fell silent, acknowledging the chain of sacrifice—Idris dying to protect something he didn’t yet understand, McLaren dying to stop AIWS once and for all, and Leila risking her life in the hope the knowledge she possessed would save our lives and many others.
“The buyers from the gala,” I said, breaking the silence. “What’s happening to them?”
“Global cooperation unlike anything I’ve seen,” Viper said with grim satisfaction.
“Vadim Karpov, the Russian arms dealer, is being extracted to the Hague. Hassan Al-Rashid is in Saudi custody—they’re particularly unhappy about his involvement, given the regional implications.
Chen Wei is being interrogated by Chinese intelligence, who are very motivated to understand how he nearly caused their infrastructure to collapse. ”
“They all thought they were buying regional advantage,” Typhon explained. “None of them understood that AIWS would have been globally catastrophic. When they realized how close they came to destroying their own countries, cooperation became remarkably easy.”
“What about the technology itself?” Gus asked.
Lex stood. “This morning, a courier delivered a packet to me from Evelyn.” Her voice caught slightly.
“She’d arranged it through her solicitors—a posthumous delivery triggered by her confirmed death.
Inside was”—she pulled out a thick envelope from her bag—“complete documentation on AIWS architecture and a systematic protocol for permanent neutralization.”
She opened the packet and removed a single document.
“She called it a ‘cascading corruption sequence.’ It’s not just a virus—it’s a complete theoretical poisoning of the framework.
Any attempt to reconstruct AIWS from surviving fragments will trigger recursive failures.
The mathematics themselves become unstable. ”
“She knew,” Lex’s voice broke. “She knew she might not survive, so she made sure someone else could destroy her creation for her. The letter says she chose me because I was the only one who understood both the coding architecture and the theoretical physics enough to implement it.”
Typhon leaned forward. “Has it been deployed?”
“I initiated it an hour ago,” Lex responded. “Every fragment, every backup, every theoretical model—they’re all corrupted now. AIWS isn’t just dead. It’s mathematically impossible to resurrect.”
Con squeezed her hand. “She saved millions of lives. That’s a legacy worth honoring.”
“Brilliant to the end,” Lex murmured, wiping away a tear.
“The money trail,” Gus said, turning his laptop to show the screen.
“I’ve tracked it all night. The Forgotten Sons had accumulated nearly three hundred million pounds through various channels—arms sales, money laundering through Dalgleish’s gallery, extortion, blackmail.
It’s been seized and frozen. International courts will determine distribution, but most will go to victims’ funds. ”
“Victims?” Ash asked. “I thought Nightingale stopped it last night.”
“The explosion at the AI facility killed twelve people,” Typhon told him. “The weapons the Forgotten Sons trafficked before AIWS killed hundreds in various conflicts. There are always victims, even when we prevent the worst.”
“The public story,” Con said. “How are we containing this?”
“Official version is a gas leak at Brodick Castle during the Highland Heritage Gala,” Viper answered.
“Four dead, several injured. Dalgleish’s family is being told a version closer to the truth—that he was involved in terrorism and was stopped by security forces.
MacKenzie survived and will eventually stand trial.
MacLeod will also face prosecution, but his cooperation is being considered.
This operation is being classified beyond top secret,” she added.
“The public can never know how close we came to global catastrophe. It would cause panic, undermine faith in institutions, and potentially trigger the very chaos we prevented.”
“But the people who matter know,” Typhon said, looking at each of us. “The Prime Minister, the Crown, allied intelligence agencies—they know what you all did. You won’t get public recognition, but you have the gratitude of everyone who understands what almost happened.”
“We don’t do it for recognition,” said Con.
“No,” Typhon agreed. “But you’ve earned it, nonetheless. Take a week. All of you. Rest, recover, process what’s happened. The world will still need saving when you return, but for now, let others handle it.”
After Typhon and Viper left the room to meet with Renegade, the formal atmosphere dissolved. Con slumped in his chair, pulling Lex against him. Gus closed his laptop for the first time in hours. Ash and Sullivan were quiet. Too quiet.
“Fuck,” Con said eloquently.
“Yeah,” Gus agreed. “That about covers it.”
Leila stood, wincing. “I need to see him.”
“Who?” I asked, though I suspected I knew.
“MacLeod. I need to understand why someone who was kind to us could do this.”
“That’s not a good idea—”
“I need to, Tag.” Her eyes were fierce despite the exhaustion. “He warned us, fed us, tried to protect us even while betraying us. I need to understand how someone can be both things at once.”
I recognized the look—she wouldn’t be dissuaded.
“I’ll arrange it,” I said. “But I’m coming with you.”
“I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.”
The rest of the day passed in a blur of arrangements and quiet conversations, including one very frank one with my brother and sister that we agreed to continue over the course of the next few days with an intended goal of dividing the estate, along with its responsibilities, among the three of us.
Renegade returned to London with Viper and Typhon, presumably to meet Isla’s flight, although nothing official was said.
That evening, after everyone other than Cameron and Maggie left, we gathered not in the formal dining room but in the kitchen, where Mrs. Murrey held court. She’d made all our favorite foods from childhood but included a special surprise just for Leila—Sticky Toffee Pudding.
“How did you know my mother’s secret ingredient?” she asked after savoring the first spoonful.
“A not-so-wee sparrow whispered in my ear,” our housekeeper teased.
My eyes met Leila’s. “Typhon,” we said at the same time.
The storm had passed, but its effects would ripple for months, maybe years. Trials to attend, testimonies to give, the slow work of justice grinding forward. But tonight, we were alive, we were together, and the world still turned.
Tomorrow would bring its own challenges. Tonight was enough.