Chapter 109 - The Infiltration of Granite
The snow fell thick and silent over the high alpine pass of St. Moritz.
Perched on the sheer granite cliff overlooking the frozen valley was the Grand Chalet d’Aigle—a sprawling estate of dark timber and reinforced concrete, masked as an ultra-exclusive private wellness retreat for European royalty and hedge fund magnates. Beneath its heated driveways and manicured pine gardens lay four subterranean levels of blast-hardened vaults.
A fleet of armored Maybachs and Bentleys wound their way up the private switchback road.
Ethan was at the wheel of a black armored limousine, wearing the tailored uniform of an executive chauffeur. In the rear seat, I smoothed down the folds of an emerald-silk evening gown, concealed beneath a floor-length fur coat. Beneath the silk, strapped firmly against my inner thigh, was a ceramic-composite dagger and an encrypted optical drive loaded with a self-replicating zero-day worm developed from Julian’s North Sea terminal.
The limousine pulled up to the security checkpoint. Four private security operatives in heavy tactical overcoats stepped forward, accompanied by scanning devices on hydraulic arms.
"Identification and invitation token," the head guard commanded in clipped German-accented English.
I rolled down the tinted window halfway, extending a matte-black platinum chip bearing the seal of the ouroboros.
The guard slotted the chip into his scanner. A green light flashed. "Madame Blackwood. The system had your arrival flagged as delayed due to maritime logistics."
"Maritime delays are trivial when debts are due to be collected," I said, my voice dripping with cold, aristocratic boredom. "Is the Curator receiving guests in the Grand Salon?"
The guard handed the token back with a slight bow. "Level minus three, Madame. The bidding commences in twenty minutes."
The hydraulic bollards dropped into the snow, and the heavy wrought-iron gates swung open.
Ethan caught my eyes in the rearview mirror. "Thermal charges are armed in the trunk. Once I drop you at the entrance, I have twelve minutes to secure the primary power grid in the lower maintenance tunnels before the jammer triggers."
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"Make it ten," I said, checking the miniature detonator disguised as a diamond ring on my right hand. "I don't intend on letting the opening bids finish."
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