Page 107 of The Bratva Stalker's Ruthless Claim
Their expressions tighten.
“The federal seizure includes my university servers,” I continue. “The original ARGO framework is there. The clean architecture. The predictive baselines. Everything.”
Mike’s jaw hardens. “So your solution is to walk into federal custody?”
“Yes.”
Silence drops over the room.
“If I cooperate publicly,” I explain, keeping my voice steady, “they’ll allow me supervised access to my academic work. Universities fight hard for research integrity. They’ll frame it as helping investigators understand the technology.”
Timofey’s eyes narrow slightly as he begins to see where this is going.
“And once you’re inside the system,” he says slowly, “you alter the code.”
I nod.
“I embed the failsafes directly into the original framework. If anyone—including Katerina—tries to weaponize ARGO…it collapses.”
Konstantin folds his arms. “You’re suggesting bait.”
“No,” I correct quietly. “It’s control.”
Mike is still staring at me, his expression somewhere between fury and disbelief.
“You’d be in federal custody,” he says slowly.
“Temporarily,” I reply.
His voice lowers. “Ellie….”
“If I don’t do this,” I say, meeting his eyes, “then the moment someone gets their hands on ARGO, the entire world becomes their chessboard.”
The room goes quiet.
Mike’s reaction is immediate and explosive.
“No,” he says sharply. “Absolutely not.” He starts pacing, one hand dragging through his hair. “Do you have any idea what federal custody means right now? You’d be completely exposed. No protection. No control.”
“That’s not entirely true,” I counter. “It’s controlled access. Academic supervision. I’d be inside the system where they think they’re containing me.”
“That’s exactly the problem,” he snaps.
Timofey’s voice cuts through the tension from the laptop speakers. “Mike.”
Mike ignores him, eyes locked on me.
“We escaped them. That’s why we’re in the safe house. You want me to hand you over to them? Just like that?”
“You’re not handing me over,” I reply calmly. “I’m choosing to go.”
Konstantin leans forward on the screen. “She kind of has a point, Mike.”
“Shut up!” Mike lashes out furiously. “It’s insane.”
“No,” Timofey says quietly. “It’s strategic.”
Mike turns toward the screen. “You’re supporting this?”
