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Chapter 15 - THE FLIGHT TO ZURICHThe private Gulfstream G650 climbed rapidly through the dark storm clouds, banking hard toward the Atlantic. The interior cabin was transformed into a mobile command center, illuminated by the cold blue glow of laptop screens and tactical displays.

Roman sat across from Elena at the mahogany conference table, loading spare magazines for his sidearm while Marco checked the operational manifests for the team landing in Zurich.

We touch down at Kloten Airport under diplomatic cover arranged by David's contacts in the Swiss parliament, Marco reported, tapping a digital map on the central screen. Moreau has a head start of approximately six hours. He’s heading for an old safehouse tucked away in the Bernese Oberland mountains—a fortified chalet near Interlaken.

He’s not running to hide, Elena said, staring intently at the topographical map of the Swiss Alps. He’s running to upload the cryptographic keys to the dark-web auctioneers. Once those keys are public, anyone with a terminal can drain the trust.

Roman snapped a magazine into his Sig Sauer with a crisp, metallic click, setting the weapon down on the table.

Then we make sure he never reaches the keyboard, Roman said, his voice flat and absolute.

Elena looked up from her screen, her dark eyes meeting his across the table. For a moment, the tension of the impending war vanished, replaced by an unspoken understanding that had carried them through nine years of deceit, survival, and ultimate partnership. She reached across the table, her hand resting over his calloused knuckles.

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Our daughter is safe in Greenwich with the loyal detail, Elena said softly. Now we finish this.

The jet sliced through the stratosphere, carrying them toward the snow-capped peaks of the Alps and the final reckoning with the European syndicate.

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