Page 39 of Deadly Hope
“Heading into position three,” Ronan reported, his voice accompanied by the distant echo of the bank’s marble lobby.He and Zara had gone ahead, establishing themselves as clients discussing investment opportunities.
“Juventus is going to crush Inter Milan this weekend,” Kenji announced with convincing enthusiasm, maintaining their tourist cover as he walked on her other side. “The odds are crazy good. You really should consider?—”
“Nobody cares about your betting habits, honey,” Olivia replied, playing her role while her stomach churned. She kept her designer sunglasses in place, grateful they hid her darting eyes. Every passing car, every shadow between buildings set her nerves humming.
“Izzy here. Jet’s fueled and ready. Weather’s holding clear to Vienna. We can be wheels up in a hot second.”
Olivia forced herself to breathe normally. The team had considered every angle, planned for every contingency. Still, her mind circled the same questions: Why bring her all this way? If someone wanted her dead, they’d had plenty of chances back home. No, this was something else. This was James’s game, his final message, and someone wanted her to find it.
The bank’s limestone facade rose ahead, elegant and imposing. Through her earpiece, she heard Griff adjusting position on whatever perch he’d found overlooking the street. Axel’s hand steadied her as they approached the magnificent bronze doors.
“Ready?” he asked quietly.
She managed a small nod, reminding herself that she wasn’t alone anymore. Whatever waited inside that safety deposit box, she had an entire team of professionals watching her back.
Even so, her pulse hammered as they stepped into the bank’s shadowed interior.
The contrast between bright Alpine sunlight and the bank’s hushed interior momentarily disoriented her. Herheels clicked against marble flooring that probably predated both World Wars. Old money whispered from every mahogany panel, every brass fixture.
A guard stationed behind a curved desk lifted his eyes to assess them. Axel stepped forward smoothly, presenting their documentation. “Guten Morgen. Dr. Olivia Kane, here to access her box.”
The guard’s eyes flicked to his screen. Olivia forced her breathing to remain steady as she removed her sunglasses, tucking them into her new Prada bag. James had assured access, but what if something had changed? What if?—
“Biometrische Kontrolle, bitte,” the guard indicated a discrete panel seamlessly integrated into the historic woodwork. State-of-the-art security masked by old-world elegance.
Olivia placed her right hand on the scanner, remembering Kenji’s briefing. Swiss banks had implemented these systems in stages. James must have added her prints to the database before ... before everything. The panel hummed. Three seconds. Five. Her heartbeat counted each moment until?—
Green light.
“Einen Moment, bitte.” The guard lifted his phone.
Within thirty seconds, a woman appeared—silver hair swept into an immaculate chignon, charcoal suit perfectly tailored. “Frau DoktorKane? I amFrauWeber. Please, follow me.”
Axel would have to remain in the lobby with Kenji. They’d prepared her for this part. She caught his slight nod as she followed the older woman through the first security door.
“Your identification, please?”FrauWeber’s English carried barely a trace of accent. She examined Olivia’s passport and banking documents with meticulous care.
They passed through three more security checkpoints, each one staffed by well-muscled guards trying hard to lookdecorative rather than deadly. The final door opened into a softly lit room lined with safety deposit boxes. Classical music played at just the right volume to ensure private conversations remained private.
“Box 2247,”FrauWeber stated, inserting her master key. “Your key, please?”
Olivia’s fingers trembled as she removed James’s key from her bag and slipped it into the second keyhole. The mechanism engaged with a whisper of well-maintained tumblers.
Small victories.
“I will give you privacy,”FrauWeber said, stepping back precisely three meters and turning her back. “Please take all the time you need.”
Olivia stared at the open drawer, her heart thundering in her ears. Whatever James had left here, after three years of silence, was about to change everything. Again.
The private viewing room felt like a confessional, all polished wood and soft lighting. A single table occupied the center, angled for privacy from the main corridor. Olivia pulled out the steel case. The safety deposit box itself was smaller than she’d expected—like everything else about this mission, expectations versus reality kept shifting.
Inside: a manila envelope, thick but not bulging, and a basic burner phone that looked almost apologetically ordinary against the vault’s old-world elegance. No note. No explanation. No,Hey, Sis, sorry to drag you into this deep, dark mess …
Just two plain items that had somehow warranted a transcontinental flight and a full tactical escort.
Olivia transferred both items to her designer tote, careful to maintain the bag’s casual slouch. The envelope slid between her laptop and makeup case, the phone tucked into an interior pocket. Simple. Clean. Professional.
Too simple?
