Chapter 9 - THE SNOWS OF ZURICH
The midnight wind swept blinding sheets of snow across the isolated airstrip.
The Gulfstream touched down with a heavy shudder, its tires gripping the icy tarmac.
No welcoming party waited here.
Just the howling wind and the distant silhouette of snow-capped Alps.
Dominic stepped out onto the metal stairs first.
The sub-zero air hit like a physical blow.
He wore a heavy wool overcoat, his Beretta holstered snugly beneath his arm.
Viktor followed closely behind, carrying a duffel bag filled with tactical gear.
Hannah descended last, her breath pluming in the freezing air.
She wore a dark tactical jacket that swallowed her small frame, but her grip on her sidearm was steady.
A matte-black SUV idled at the edge of the tarmac, driven by one of Dominic’s trusted European contacts, a scarred veteran named Klaus.
“Boss,” Klaus greeted them, opening the rear door. “The Sterling estate is forty miles from here. Heavily guarded.”
“How many men?” Dominic asked, sliding into the backseat.
“At least two dozen perimeter guards. Security cameras cover every inch of the perimeter.”
Dominic pulled out a digital tablet, displaying the architectural blueprints Hannah had helped recall.
“They’re keeping Margaret in the sub-level holding rooms beneath the main villa,” Dominic analyzed, tracing a finger across the blueprint. “We breach through the old wine cellar entrance. It’s off the main security grid.”
Viktor checked the magazine of his submachine gun.
“And Vanessa?”
“She’ll be inside with her father,” Dominic replied coldly. “Celebrating a victory they haven’t won yet.”
The SUV roared into motion, cutting through the blizzard-swept mountain roads.
Inside, the tension was palpable.
Hannah stared out the frosted window, her knuckles white as she gripped her knees.
“We’re going to get her back, Hannah,” Dominic said without looking back.
“I know, sir,” she whispered. “Because you’re a Moretti. And you keep your promises.”
Dominic looked at his reflection in the dark glass.
For four years, he had believed he was a broken man mourning an ordinary tragedy.
Now, he realized he was the apex predator of a syndicate waking up from a deep sleep.
The SUV slowed down, pulling into the dense pine forest surrounding the Sterling estate.
The iron gates loomed ahead, topped with razor wire and automated turret cameras.
May you like
Klaus cut the headlights.
“This is as far as I take you,” Klaus said quietly. “Good hunting, Boss.”
