Chapter 13 - The Intruder in the Chalet
The digital blueprint of the chalet flashed crimson on the central console of the secure panic room. Red pulsing lights indicated movement in the subterranean service tunnels leading directly up from Lake Lucerne.
"They bypassed the biometric locks," I noted, stepping up beside Victor and staring at the terminal. My hands were steady, the fear of the old days completely replaced by tactical calculation. "That means they didn't hack the system. They used an old physical key code—one from the previous owner."
Victor’s eyes narrowed into dangerous obsidian slits. "The previous owner was Heinrich Voss. An old-guard Swiss arms dealer who crossed paths with me a decade ago."
"So it's a trap or an assassination squad sent by the New York syndicate," I concluded, reaching into the custom holster hidden beneath my blazer to check the weight of my silver-plated pistol.
Victor stopped me, his hand wrapping firmly around my wrist. He looked down at me, a mixture of fierce protective pride and absolute authority flashing in his dark gaze.
"You stay behind the reinforced blast doors," Victor commanded, his voice dropping an octave.
"No," I replied, pulling my wrist free with quiet defiance. "I'm not the girl who hides in closets while you bleed, Victor. We cleared Warehouse 4 together, and we handle this together."
Victor stared at me for three agonizing seconds, searching my face for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, a dark, wicked grin broke across his face.
"Stay close to my six," he growled, pulling his own custom-weighted tactical knife from his belt.
We slipped out of the panic room into the dim, amber-lit corridors of the chalet. The wind howled against the bulletproof glass windows, masking the faint sound of boots hitting the hardwood floors below.
Three figures dressed in full black tactical gear emerged from the stairwell, their suppressed submachine guns raised, sweeping the hallway.
Before they could pivot toward our position, Victor moved with terrifying, animalistic speed. He vaulted over a decorative console, slamming his heavy combat boot into the chest of the lead operative, sending him crashing backward into the wall.
The second operative swung his rifle toward Victor's unprotected side.
I didn't think. I raised my pistol, aimed down the sight with clinical precision, and pulled the trigger.
BANG.
The suppressed shot echoed like a heavy thud. The operative dropped instantly, clutching a shattered shoulder before hitting the floor.
The third man panicked, turning his weapon directly toward me.
Before his finger could press the trigger, Victor’s tactical knife flashed through the air like a streak of silver lightning, burying itself deep into the operative's forearm. The man shrieked, dropping his weapon with a metallic clatter.
Silence rushed back into the hallway, broken only by the heavy breathing of the defeated intruders.
Victor stepped over the fallen men, walking straight up to the leader who was pinned against the wall, clutching his bleeding shoulder. Victor grabbed him by the tactical vest, lifting him effortlessly off his feet.
"Who sent you?" Victor snarled, his voice a lethal whisper.
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The man spat a glob of blood onto the hardwood floor, laughing hysterically. "You think... you think Zurich is safe? The New York council... they already have your brother."
My blood ran completely cold.
