Chapter 6 - The Zurich Intercept
We didn't use the royal limousines. Vincent led us through an old underground carriage tunnel that exited near the riverfront, where a battered, unmarked delivery van was waiting.
Julian drove, his face grim as the windshield wipers fought against a sudden, blinding rainstorm. I sat in the back, watching the lights of the palace fade into the mist behind us. My mind was a whirlwind of rage and grief. My mother had died of a broken heart because her own sister-in-law had traded her toddler for fifty million euros and a corporate monopoly.
By 4:00 AM, we arrived at the sleek, black-glass tower of the Vane Banking Group in the financial district. The building was dark, its grand lobby illuminated only by the green glow of security terminals.
"The master codes for the subterranean vaults are changed every midnight," Julian said, looking at the electronic card swipe near the side entrance. "We can't get in without an executive override."
"I have the override," a calm, elegant voice spoke from the shadows of the glass portico.
I turned, my hand flying to Vincent's holster, but Vincent had already lowered his weapon.
Standing in the rain, wearing a long trench coat and holding an executive security briefcase, was a young man with sharp, aristocratic features and eyes that carried a deep, profound exhaustion. It was Baron Adrian Vane—Beatrice's younger brother.
"Adrian?" Julian gasped, stepping out of the van. "What are you doing here?"
"I’m the one who booked the catering agency, Julian," Adrian said, his voice quiet as he stepped into the light of the van’s headlamps. "I discovered the 2006 wire transfer records three months ago while auditing our family's offshore trusts. I realized what my father and sister had done to Valerie... and to this girl."
He looked at me, a deep look of sorrow and regret in his eyes. "I couldn't live with the blood on our name anymore, Anastasia. I knew if I went to the police, my father would have the files destroyed before the warrant was signed. I needed a public explosion. I needed you to stand in front of the Duchess with that necklace on."
"Where is my grandmother, Adrian?" I demanded, stepping close to him. "Beatrice’s men breached the archive."
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"The Duchess is safe," Adrian assured me, handing me a digital tablet from his briefcase. "The federal police arrived at the palace twenty minutes ago. I leaked the security feeds of the mercenary breach to the state networks live. Beatrice and her father are currently barricaded in their penthouse estate, trying to transfer the remaining trust funds out of the country before the Swiss authorities freeze the accounts."
"They won't get the chance," I said, taking the executive keycard from his hand. "Let's open the vault."
