Chapter 108 - The Auction of Souls
"The Curator," Ethan said, leaning over the desk and magnifying the satellite map of the Engadin Valley in the Swiss Alps. "I’ve heard that callsign once before, back when I was running deniable operations for the Agency."
"Tell me," I demanded, loading fresh hollow-point rounds into the magazine of my sidearm.
"He doesn't exist on paper. He’s the operational custodian for the Archon Trust. Every five years, the syndicate holds a closed-circuit summit called the Sovereign Clearing. They don't bid on art or gold, Claire. They bid on geopolitical debts, military access codes, and the indentured contracts of compromised global bloodlines."
"And Mark’s family?" I asked, my voice deadly quiet. "Mark had a sister. Sarah. She lives in Boston with her teenage son. Did my mother sell them out too?"
Ethan tapped the screen, pulling up the manifests buried in the newly decrypted partition of Julian’s drive. A file labeled *Vance Collateral* popped up.
Sarah Vance. Tyler Vance. Both had been flagged by private surveillance contractors in Massachusetts forty-eight hours ago.
"The Trust never leaves loose ends," Ethan said grimly. "If the Blackwood asset umbrella collapses, all secondary branches associated with your marriage are liquidated or seized as operational leverage. They’re bringing their contracts to the St. Moritz auction to clear the book."
"We aren't going to let that happen."
"Claire, the St. Moritz facility is a subterranean fortress built into the granite beneath an old Cold War bunker," Ethan warned, his eyes locking onto mine. "Security isn't private guards; it’s the Praetorian Guard of the global shadow elite. Biometric scanning, thermal perimeter sweeps, and anti-vehicular countermeasures. You don't just kick in the front door."
"We aren't kicking in the door," I replied, pulling up the guest registry we had scraped from Julian’s personal communications. "Julian had an invitation to represent the family. They don't know he’s dead yet because the salvage report from the North Sea was delayed."
"And who do you think you're going to walk in as?"
I looked at my reflection in the dark glass of the terminal. The gaunt, mourning woman who had wept beside three empty coffins six months ago was gone. In her place stood a creature forged in fire, betrayal, and absolute purpose.
"I’m walking in as the sole remaining beneficiary of the Blackwood estate," I said. "I’m going to buy my family’s freedom—with the only currency the Archons understand."
"Which is?"
May you like
"Total destruction."
***
