The epitome of success, Ambrosius Sidorov had it all.
Money, though didn't need it.
Power, though it bored him.
A lavish penthouse in downtown Chicago.
And the most powerful Throne.
That is, up until the fateful night when his siblings were murdered...
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Moscow, Russia
Ambrosius had not been given fair warning, much less time to react. The bullet went through the Prince's skull and penetrated deep into the door of his BMW. Clearly, it was not civilian or military issue. Definitely Administration grade ammunition. The question reverberated through his head much like the congenital, Sidorov migraines.
Why?
And as if to make matters worse, he could not stop reminiscing about the carnage that was left behind when he used another protocol command. The techniques used by the Administration to implant these psychological responses into the minds of tiered bodyguards was a well kept secret. The CIA and MI6 had tried out their own variations of mind control with MKUltra and LSD respectively; but their attempts were useless without the knowledge and foresight the Administration so easily possessed.
Ambrosius still had the wooden flash drive John gave him before being brutally shot down. It looked like a nondescript, platinum rectangle and was exclusively S-connector capable. This type of information required a Sidorov laptop to access the information encrypted in it. Not even an Administration supercomputer would be able to access the files embedded into the drive. The fact only caused more alarm to Ambrosius. It was not possible for the Prince to have access to such technology. He could feel his heart begin to beat erratically. Scanning his surroundings, Ambrosius made sure no one was looking. The bodyguards were asleep and his assistants were busy on their devices.
Without hesitation Ambrosius retrieved his laptop from under his seat and connected the drive into the appropriate portal. A black screen materialized as he placed the device on the retractable table.
Password_
The word made Ambrosius use choice words under his breath. He began typing away at the keyboard.
SpoiledRoyal123
RichBrit247
London101
England4Life
Nothing worked. Each entry he typed returned rejected. Soon enough the screen began a countdown before it would delete all the information. Ambrosius sighed and sank into his plush seat, disgruntled by the obstacle placed before him. His gaze shifted down to the floor and landed on the bloody note John had given him. ‘Trust no one.’ Ambrosius reminded himself, and before he was consciously aware, he had typed the phrase into the password field.
Access Granted, the computer chimed to life as the screen began loading the information portal.
Relief overcame the master as the computer screen displayed a single file titled ‘La Verdad,’ Spanish for the Truth. He was hesitant at first but clicked on it nonetheless. Doing so revealed a paper trail of information. Bank records. Wire transfers. Bounty orders. Police investigations. It all led back to a rogue gang in Moscow not affiliated with the Administration.
