Chapter 91 - Shadows Along the Limmat
We left the library under the cover of the early evening dusk, moving north along the banks of the Limmat River. A fine, needle-like drizzle began to fall, turning the cobblestones into mirrors reflecting the amber glow of the streetlamps.
Marcus maintained point, fifteen paces ahead, while I stayed shoulder-to-shoulder with Maya. She moved with effortless economy, her senses tuned to the environment in a way that proved our years of quiet instruction in the mountains had taken root.
"Two tails," Maya murmured without turning her head. "One on the opposite bank, tracking our pace behind the tram shelters. One fifty yards back, wearing an umbrella and carrying a leather portfolio."
"I see them," I said softly. "They're not matching our speed; they're herding us toward the pedestrian bridge at Münsterbrücke."
"Same place Arthur Weiss tried to corner us years ago," Marcus’s voice crackled through our encrypted earpieces. "They lack imagination. We break right into the alley behind the guild house."
We cut abruptly into the narrow corridor of Augustinergasse, where the overhanging medieval facades choked out the city lights. Marcus vanished into a darkened doorway, letting us pass ahead before slipping into the shadow behind us.
The footsteps behind us accelerated. A man in a dark mackintosh rounded the corner, his hand slipping inside his coat toward an unmistakable outline.
Before he could clear the leather, Marcus struck from the shadows—a swift, brutal redirection of momentum that drove the tracker against the damp stone wall. The man gasped, the breath driven from his lungs as Marcus pinned his wrist and extracted a silenced automatic pistol with fluid, surgical efficiency.
"Who authorized the trace?" Marcus demanded in a cold, level whisper, pressing the man’s chin upward.
The man didn't fight back. He coughed, his eyes darting toward me and Maya.
May you like
"I am not with Weiss," the man gasped, his accent distinctly French-Swiss. "I am... security detail for Council Member Vance. She is waiting at the clockmaker’s workshop. Please... the opposition has already breached the vault in Basel."
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