Chapter 14 - The Geneva ProtocolThe private jet climbed steeply into the midnight sky, setting a direct, unannounced course for Geneva, Switzerland.
Inside the cabin, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Elena sat across from Matthew, staring at the small microchip resting on the walnut table between them. Underneath it lay the gold pocket watch of her father.
— This microchip contains the encrypted coordinates to the syndicate’s central data hub located beneath Lake Geneva, Matthew explained, sliding a digital tactical map across the screen. — It’s a subterranean server farm protected by private mercenaries and biometric locks. If we upload Julian’s master key, it will automatically trigger an international red notice, freezing every hidden asset Ambrose has left across the globe.
Elena looked up, her gaze steady.
— And if we get caught?
— We won't, Matthew replied, his dark eyes locking onto hers with absolute conviction. — Because my private security division is already in position. We strike at dawn.
Six hours later, the jet touched down on a private airstrip nestled deep within the snow-capped Swiss Alps. The morning air was biting, freezing the breath into plumes of white mist.
Without wasting a second, they transferred into an armored convoy of matte-black SUVs, speeding away from the airport toward the outskirts of Lake Geneva.
As the sun began to peek over the jagged peaks of the mountains, the convoy stopped near an old, unassuming industrial water treatment facility sitting right on the shore of the lake.
— This is the front, Matthew said, checking the magazine of his submachine gun before stepping out into the snow. — The actual server vault is three hundred feet below the lake bed.
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Elena stepped out beside him, wearing a heavy tactical coat, her boots crunching on the frozen gravel. She felt the heavy signet ring hanging against her chest—her armor, her anchor, her legacy.
— Let’s open the vault, Elena said.
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