Chapter 13 - The Flight to Montreal
The red-eye flight from O'Hare to Montréal-Trudeau International Airport felt like stepping into an entirely different world. The city was blanketed in pristine, blinding snow, the French-Canadian street signs glowing under amber sodium lights.
Working in coordination with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP), Marcus and I set up a tactical command post inside a nondescript precinct near the Old Port.
"Julian is scheduled to meet a maritime broker at a private shipping warehouse near the Saint Lawrence River tonight at midnight," an RCMP captain briefed us, pointing to a tactical map on the wall. "He’s planning to transfer twenty million in digital bearer bonds onto a freighter heading down the Atlantic."
"He’s desperate," I noted, reviewing the security camera stills of the warehouse. "When financial criminals start moving physical digital assets manually, it means their digital backdoors have been compromised. He knows we're close."
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"Then we strike before he reaches the water," Marcus said, his jaw set with grim determination.
At 11:30 p.m., two unmarked tactical vehicles rolled quietly through the freezing Montreal snow, parking two blocks away from the cavernous brick warehouse on the riverbank. The wind howled off the frozen river, carrying ice crystals that stung our faces as we moved into position.
