Chapter 23: The Meeting in Geneva
Forty-eight hours later, a private, unmarked Gulfstream jet touched down on a private tarmac outside Geneva, Switzerland, under a blanket of heavy, freezing rain.
Camila stepped off the aircraft clad in a heavy black cashmere coat, her breath pluming in the cold night air. Waiting by the edge of the tarmac was a sleek, armored Mercedes with diplomatic plates.
Vance stepped out from the passenger side, holding an umbrella over her head as she made her way toward the vehicle.
"The contact is waiting at the designated safe house in the old town district," Vance reported, opening the car door. "An anonymous whistleblower who claims to have direct operational links to the inner circle of the Janus Syndicate."
"Is it a trap?" Camila asked as she slid into the leather interior.
"Almost certainly," Vance replied, getting into the front passenger seat and checking the load of his sidearm. "But it’s the only lead we have on their new leadership structure."
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The vehicle glided silently through the rain-slicked cobblestone streets of Geneva’s historic quarter, pulling up beside an austere, centuries-old stone building that looked like a quiet law firm from the outside.
Camila stepped out into the chill, walking up the stone steps. The heavy oak door swung open automatically before she even knocked.
