Executing the Cross Protocol

Elena Voss stepped up to the console, pulling off her leather glove. Her shoulders set into a firm line.

“The algorithm needs two signatures to execute total purge,” Elena said. She wiped sweat from her lip. “Once we confirm, every server entry for Daniel Cross disappears. You become a blank file.”

Daniel stood beside her. He looked at his silver watch, then rubbed the small scar above his right eyebrow. “Start the pulse.”

The timer hit 00:22. The glass plates at the center of the desk glowed yellow.

“Place your hand,” Elena whispered.

At 00:18, Daniel pressed his palm flat against the scanner glass on the left. Elena laid her left palm against the right scanner.

A low hum vibrated through the floorboards. Green light swept under their fingers, reading skin lines and heat patterns.

The red countdown froze. Blue screens across the sub-level flickered twice, then cleared to white text: CROSS PROTOCOL ACKNOWLEDGED. DELETE SEQUENCE ACTIVE.

A clatter rang down the tunnel shaft outside. Steel doors shuddered as booted feet slammed against the outer lock.

“Files opening,” Elena said, her eyes fixed on the display. “Twenty-three passenger records dumping to external storage right now.”

Daniel watched his own name pixelate on the central monitor. Letter by letter, his clearance code, birth registry, and executive credentials dissolved into grey noise.

An electronic beep echoed from the hallway scanner outside the thick door. A metal latch clicked unlocked.

Four operatives in black jackets kicked the door open, weapons raised. Their leader stepped forward, tapping a security tablet against the frame to scan Daniel’s face.

The tablet screen flashed red twice. A mechanical voice chimed: NO MATCH FOUND.

The operative frowned, staring down at the error screen.