29. Elena #2
"I don't have them."
Adrianos's voice turns colder. "You're testing my patience."
"I'm not lying." Drakos looks genuinely frightened now. "Different identities are used. Different intermediaries. Sometimes encrypted messages, sometimes couriers. Nobody is given enough information to understand the entire operation."
A chill moves through me. Karras told us almost the same thing. Different intermediaries. Different identities. Never enough information to see the whole structure.
"How long have you been involved?" I ask.
"Six years."
"The network is older than that."
His surprise is immediate. Real.
"How much older?"
I study him. "Decades."
Drakos stares at me.
That reaction tells me something important. Even the people inside the machine don't understand how old the machine is.
I bring up the reservoir accounts. "How much money remains?"
He doesn't answer.
"Stefanos."
His gaze drops. I already know I'm not going to like what comes next.
"Not much."
I turn the laptop toward me and pull up the latest balances. My stomach drops when I see he's right.
Several accounts have fallen sharply during the last seventy-two hours. Others are almost empty. One that held fourteen million yesterday now contains less than two. Another has lost eight million. Another eleven.
The reservoir isn't draining because we're closing in.
It's draining because someone is spending it.
"Where did it go?"
"I don't know every destination."
"Give me the ones you know."
Drakos exhales. "Contractors. Weapons procurement. Logistics companies. Properties."
"What properties?"
"Safe houses. Warehouses. Temporary facilities. Some in Greece, others abroad."
Adrianos leans forward. "What else?"
"Political consultants. Private security. Transportation."
"Political consultants?" I ask.
"That's what they're called on paper. Some payments went to aides, intermediaries, and lobbying organizations. I don't know who ultimately received them."
"Bribes," Adrianos says.
Drakos doesn't answer. He doesn't need to.
I pull up another reservoir account and watch the balance update. More money has disappeared since yesterday.
Hundreds of millions accumulated gradually, quietly, almost invisibly. Money stolen in fractions from shipping, real estate, investments, currency conversions, and legitimate Crown businesses. Money we believed was being collected for some future purpose.
We called it a war chest. But war chests wait. This one isn't waiting anymore.
"How much has already been dispersed?" I ask.
Drakos looks at the table.
"Estimate."
His hesitation tells me the answer before he speaks.
"Most of it."
The room goes silent.
I look at Adrianos. His face has become unreadable, but I know what he's thinking because I'm thinking the same thing.
The money isn't being prepared for use. It's already been used.
"Contractors, weapons, bribes, safe houses, logistics," I say. "Someone didn't build a reserve for a future operation."
Adrianos's gaze meets mine.
"The operation is already underway."
The realization sits between us like another person.
Adrianos turns back to Drakos. "What is it funding?"
"I don't know."
He rises, and Drakos recoils immediately. My hand closes around Adrianos's forearm.
He stops.
Not because I could physically prevent him from crossing the table and killing the man. But because he chooses to stop.
I look up at him, and for a second neither of us speaks.
Then Adrianos sits again.
"Continue," he tells me.
That one word means more than it should.
I turn back to Drakos. "We're not finished."
"I've told you everything."
"You've told us what the money bought. I want to know where it came from."
His confusion looks genuine.
I pull up the source structures. "Greek companies. Italian shipping infrastructure. Irish logistics. Colombian channels. Bratva-linked investments. Whoever created this didn't finance the operation through one Crown family."
I rotate the laptop toward him.
"They used all of them."
Drakos's expression changes. He knew. Maybe not the full scale, but enough.
"You've seen these structures before."
"I've seen some of them."
"Did you ever wonder why money from rival organizations was moving toward the same destinations?"
His laugh is short and humorless. "People in my profession survive by not wondering why powerful men move money."
"Which powerful men?"
"I don't know."
Adrianos's gaze hardens. "Try again."
Drakos looks between us. "That's what you're not understanding.
Everyone I dealt with appeared legitimate.
Nobody arrived wearing a mask and announcing they worked for some secret organization.
They were accountants, lawyers, security contractors, executives.
People attached to businesses the Crown already trusted. "
"Which family?" I ask.
"Different ones."
"Which?"
His eyes flick toward Adrianos before returning to me. "Greek. Italian. Irish. Colombian. Russian. I've dealt with intermediaries connected to all of them."
My skin prickles.
The network didn't choose one kingdom and use it to attack the others. It fed from all five.
Adrianos looks at me. "Someone designed this to make us suspect each other."
"Possibly."
"Possibly?"
"We're still assuming the goal is simply to start a war between the families. Hundreds of millions have already been deployed. We don't know what the final objective is."
Drakos gives a faint, strange laugh.
I turn toward him. "What?"
"You're still doing it."
"Doing what?"
"Trying to identify the enemy."
Adrianos's expression darkens. "There is an enemy."
"I'm sure there is."
"Then what's funny?"
Drakos looks at him for several seconds before answering. "Men like you always look outward first. Another family. Another organization. Someone trying to take your territory or destroy what belongs to you. You assume the danger has to come from somewhere else."
Adrianos leans forward. "You have ten seconds to become useful."
"I'm telling you what I know." Drakos's composure finally cracks.
"I've spent six years taking instructions from people connected to your world.
People who had legitimate credentials, legitimate access, and legitimate reasons to be where they were.
Nobody involved ever behaved as though they were trying to get inside. "
A cold sensation crawls down my spine. I think about the penthouse. The attacker didn't break through Adrianos's security. He used legitimate credentials.
I think about Kalliopi's records, twenty years of financial evolution, shell companies embedded inside trusted Crown infrastructure, and money quietly siphoned from every family.
I think about Karras, a respected banker who served the Crown for decades. Then another possibility occurs to me. One I don't like at all.
Adrianos sees something change in my face. "What?"
I don't answer immediately.
There are five kings. Five empires.
Five men with extraordinary access to the Crown's infrastructure, finances, security, and internal politics.
Volkov.
Adrianos.
Lorenzo.
Declan.
Santiago.
I don't believe Adrianos is behind this. I know too much about what the conspiracy has taken from him. But that leaves four other men at the very center of an organization that has spent decades being quietly dismantled from within.
Drakos looks between us. "You're looking for an enemy. That's why you'll never see them."
The words settle heavily over the room.
An enemy has to cross the gates. An outsider needs to infiltrate, steal credentials, and learn how the Crown works. But whoever built OB6 hasn't spent decades trying to enter the Crown.
I think they are already part of it. Maybe one of the kings.