Chapter 11 - The Geneva AuditThe Swiss Alps loomed outside the tinted windows of the private Gulfstream as we descended toward Geneva. Below us, the pristine waters of Lake Geneva reflected the gray morning sky, mirroring the cold precision of the financial capital we were about to enter.
I sat across from Gabriel, smoothing down the lapel of my tailored charcoal blazer. The cardigans and sensible shoes were long gone, replaced by custom designer suits that commanded authority in boardrooms from Zurich to Tokyo. On the seat beside me, Eli was fast asleep, clutching a miniature leather-bound notebook I had given him as a toy.
"The Swiss Federal Banking Commission is expecting us at noon," Gabriel said, his voice smooth and steady as he reviewed a dossier on his tablet. "They want a full accounting of the liquidated assets we absorbed from Julian Vance’s offshore accounts."
"They'll get it," I replied, opening my own leather portfolio. "Every cent has been scrubbed, verified, and re-routed through legitimate infrastructure under the Bennett-Kane Foundation. Not a single compliance officer on the continent will find a loophole."
Gabriel looked up from his screen, a dark, appreciative smirk crossing his face. "Sometimes I forget how terrifying you really are, Claire. You dismantled an international syndicate with a red pen and a calculator."
"I told you," I met his gaze without flinching, "numbers don't lie. People do."
When the jet touched down, a convoy of black armored Mercedes was already waiting on the tarmac, arranged by our European contacts. But as we stepped out into the crisp Swiss air, Mason’s radio hissed with a sharp burst of static.
"Boss," Mason's voice crackled through the earpiece. "We’ve got movement. A secondary team of local mercenaries just bypassed the perimeter gate near hangar four. They aren't Swiss police."
Gabriel's eyes hardened instantly into chips of obsidian. He reached back instinctively, his hand brushing the concealed holster beneath his suit jacket.
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"Vance is locked up in a maximum-security federal prison," I said, my pulse spiking as my mind raced through the possibilities. "Who else could possibly have the clearance to track our flight path to Geneva?"
"Someone who was higher up than Julian," Gabriel answered coldly, pulling me behind his broad frame as Mason and three local security operatives formed a tactical shield around us. "Someone who watched Vance take the fall and decided to finish the job themselves."
