"The upload is complete," the man in the video whispered. "The 15th was the deadline. They won't even know they've been replaced."

Viktor felt a cold sweat prickle his neck. He reached for his USB drive to rip the file, but the screen turned a violent shade of crimson. A single line of text appeared over the frozen video:

The "Online 1" mirror site was a legend among data-miners—a phantom server that jumped from IP to IP to stay ahead of the censors.

The power in the café died instantly. In the sudden silence, Viktor heard the heavy hydraulic hiss of the front door locking. From the shadows of the back office, he saw the blue glow of a tablet—and the silhouette of a man who looked exactly like the anchor from the broadcast he was just watching.