Chapter 21 - Wings Over the Atlantic



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The military C-17 Globemaster cut through the night sky at thirty thousand feet, its massive jet engines roaring in a low, continuous rumble. Inside the dimly lit cargo bay, Madison sat on a steel bench, checking the action on her SIG Sauer P320 sidearm before holstering it against her tactical vest.
Across from her, Ethan sat curled up under a green wool blanket, his customized surveillance drone resting securely inside a reinforced pelican case beside his feet. He looked small in the shadow of the armored vehicles tied down in the center of the aircraft.
Director Vance stepped down the center aisle, holding a secure satellite tablet.
"We land at a private airfield outside Lausanne in three hours," Vance said, his voice cutting through the mechanical hum. "Local Swiss federal police have been bypassed. Only my black-budget team knows we're arriving."
Madison pulled her field jacket tighter around her shoulders.
"What about my grandfather?" she asked, her blue eyes fixed on Vance. "How long has he been hiding in Switzerland?"
"Since the night your parents were murdered twelve years ago," Vance replied grimly. "Arthur Carter knew The Architect would hunt down every living member of your bloodline. He went off the grid, faked his own execution in Marseille, and set up a counter-network in the Alps."
Ethan sat up, pulling the blanket down to his chest.
"Did Grandpa know about the fifty million dollars?" Ethan asked softly. "Did he know they were using me?"
Vance offered a rare, sympathetic nod toward the boy.
"Your grandfather built the trust fund as bait, Ethan. He wanted the shadow syndicate to focus on the money in Chicago so he could locate the master vault in Geneva without drawing their attention."
Madison stood up, walking toward the small reinforced oval window. Outside, nothing but pitch-black darkness stretched over the Atlantic Ocean.
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"He used my brother as bait?" Madison muttered, her jaw tightening with suppressed anger.
"He saved your brother's life, Commander," Vance corrected coldly. "And in three hours, you'll have the chance to ask him yourself."