Chapter 43 - The Vance Legacy
|
Safehouse Echo was an abandoned subterranean subway station beneath the streets of Chicago, repurposed during the Cold War and forgotten by the city. It smelled of ozone, damp concrete, and old copper.
Audrey was already there when we arrived, setting up a bank of servers on a rusted folding table. She looked up, her expression grim, and pulled me into a tight embrace before nodding at Nicolás.
"He's gotten tall," Audrey remarked, handing me a freshly brewed cup of black coffee.
"And he’s going to stay that way," I replied, taking a sip of the bitter liquid. "Tell me you have a trace on that text message."
Audrey turned back to her monitors, her fingers flying across the keyboard. "Julian didn't make it easy. The signal bounced off three decommissioned satellites and a server farm in Macau before it hit your phone. But I isolated the metadata on the PDF attachment."
"And?"
"It's an invitation to the Zenith Gala in Monaco this Friday," Audrey brought up a rotating 3D model of a massive, cliffside casino. "It’s an exclusive event. Billionaires, arms dealers, corrupt politicians. Julian is hosting it."
"Why invite me?" I asked, pacing the length of the concrete platform. "If he wanted us dead, he could have ordered a strike on the house."
"Because he doesn't want you dead. Not yet," Audrey pulled up a digitized file bearing my father's name. "Your father was the chief architect of the Viper syndicate’s financial ledger. When he defected, he didn't just run. He took the master decryption key to their offshore accounts."
"I don't have it," I shook my head, frustrated. "My father died with his secrets."
"Julian doesn't believe that," Audrey countered, looking me dead in the eye. "He thinks you know where the ledger is. The message said, 'Your father sold your past... I am coming to collect your future.' The gala isn't just a trap, Elena. It's an auction. And he’s planning to auction off Nicolás's life in exchange for that ledger."
May you like
I looked over at my son, who was sleeping fitfully on a worn-out cot in the corner of the station. A cold fury settled deep into my bones.
"We need a dress," I said coldly. "And a lot of concealed explosives."
