CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 51 — The Zurich Breach
The reinforced glass didn’t shatter inward; it imploded.
Three figures clad in matte-black tactical gear swung through the blizzard, using high-velocity ropes anchored to the roof. The freezing Chicago wind tore into the executive suite, scattering legal briefs like a flock of panicked birds.
Valeria didn’t scream. She didn’t run. She dropped behind the mahogany desk as a hail of suppressed gunfire chewed through her leather chair.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Before the operators could touch the ground, the elevator doors flew open again. Victor was a shadow in motion. A flash of silver steel, two deafening cracks from his modified sidearm, and the first two attackers crumpled onto the snow-dusted carpet. The third operator turned, but Valeria was already standing.
She didn't use the gun. She slammed the heavy antique brass key her mother had left directly into the operator's exposed throat. The man choked, stumbling backward through the shattered window, disappearing into the white void of the Chicago night.
Victor stood amidst the wreckage, his breath misting in the freezing air, his weapon pointed at the ceiling. "They weren't your father's men. And they weren't the US government."
Valeria wiped a smear of dark blood off her palm onto her navy blazer. She picked up the secondary phone her mother had left on the desk. It was vibrating.
May you like
She swiped the screen. A single string of coordinates appeared, blinking in blood-red text against a digital topographical map of the Swiss Alps. Below it, a message:
“The central vault is bleeding, Valeria. Zurich isn't safe anymore. Come to the cradle, or watch everything we built drown.”
