Chapter 29 - The Zurich Flight
We didn't go to the terminal in the van. We left it idling three blocks away as a diversion while Jack’s secondary team deployed drone surveillance over the rail yards.
The thermal feed from the drone displayed on Jack’s tablet in crisp, ghostly green: four men armed with automatic rifles positioned on the catwalks of the central freight warehouse. Inside the main office, two heat signatures were visible—one seated, tied to a chair, and another pacing the perimeter. Julian and Marcus.
"They have spotters on the roof," Jack whispered, peering through the rain from the second-story window of an abandoned brick warehouse overlooking the tracks. "If we move across the open gravel, they’ll cut us to pieces."
"Then we don't move across the gravel," I said, pulling out my secure satellite phone.
I dialed the direct private emergency line for *Bankhaus Schellenberg* in Zurich, using the account routing number etched into the spine of the platinum key.
A crisp, cultured Swiss voice answered on the second ring, speaking German before switching seamlessly to English. *"Schellenberg Depository. State your account identifier."*
"Account Sterling-404," I said clearly. "Beneficiary Aurelia Sarah Sterling. I am reporting an unlawful coercion attempt by the holding company Apex Heritage Capital. They are attempting to execute an illegal seizure using forged collateral documents dated November 14, 1998."
There was an immediate shift in the tone on the other end of the line. The quiet rustle of heavy documents, followed by the clacking of high-security mechanical keys.
*"One moment, Ms. Sterling. Verifying secondary biometric protocol... The late Richard Vance’s death has been registered on the international probate wire twenty minutes ago. Under Article Nine of the Sterling Testamentary Trust, the moment a violent dispute is reported by the primary heir, all secondary claims are frozen, and the depository’s private security division is deployed to extract the beneficiary."*
"I am currently pinned down in an industrial terminal in Massachusetts," I said, watching the thermal feed. "The representative of Apex, a man named Marcus, is holding Richard Vance’s son hostage."
*"Marcus Vance-Roché,"* the banker said without hesitation. *"We know who he is. He is not a representative, Ms. Sterling. He is your late father's elder brother. And the primary debtor to the Schellenberg estate."*
The air left my lungs in a cold rush. *Richard’s elder brother.*
"The Swiss division has two tactical extraction teams permanently stationed at Hanscom Airfield," the banker continued, his voice as calm as a surgeon’s scalpel. *"They were mobilized thirty minutes ago upon confirmation of Richard Vance’s demise. Look to the eastern sky, Ms. Sterling. Your family’s trust does not merely hold currency. It maintains an army."*
A low, subterranean rumble began to vibrate through the floorboards beneath our feet. It wasn't the sound of an engine on the street. It was the heavy, thudding rhythm of twin turboshaft rotors slicing through the low-hanging rain clouds.
From the blackness above the rail yard, a matte-black Sikorsky helicopter descended without running lights, its searchlights suddenly snapping on with the blinding fury of miniature suns.
May you like
The roof of the freight terminal was instantly bathed in pure white light.
***
