Chapter 4 Zurich
The private jet touched down at Zurich Airport just before dawn. Elena had arranged the flight through one of CruzTech's subsidiary companies, using accounting channels that would be difficult to trace. Ryan sat across from her, studying documents on his laptop with intense concentration. He had been working throughout the entire eight-hour flight, calling in favors from contacts across multiple agencies.
"I found something," Ryan said as the plane taxied toward a private hangar. "Your father's name appears in connection with an organization called the Consortium. It's not officially recognized by any law enforcement agency, but intelligence reports suggest it's a network of wealthy families who control illegal operations across Europe and North America. Arms trafficking. Money laundering. Political corruption. They're everywhere and nowhere simultaneously."
Elena felt cold dread settling in her stomach. "And my father was part of this?"
"More than part of it. According to these files, Antonio Cruz was their primary representative in the United States. He facilitated their operations, laundered their money through legitimate businesses, and provided them with political connections. He was essential to their American infrastructure."
"Which means I've been running a criminal enterprise without knowing it," Elena said quietly. "CruzTech, all my legitimate business operations, they were just cover for organized crime."
Ryan closed his laptop and looked at her seriously. "Maybe. Or maybe your father kept the criminal activities completely separate from your work. We won't know until we find out what's in that Swiss vault."
The plane came to a stop. Elena grabbed her small overnight bag and stood. She had changed into dark jeans, a black sweater, and comfortable boots. Her designer business suits felt like costumes from a different lifetime. Ryan wore similar dark clothing and had a concealed weapon holster under his jacket.
A car was waiting for them outside the hangar. Ryan had arranged it through a contact in European law enforcement who owed him favors. They drove through the quiet streets of Zurich as the city slowly awakened. Church bells rang in the distance. Street cleaners worked methodically. Everything felt orderly and peaceful, the complete opposite of the chaos consuming Elena's life.
The GPS coordinates led them to a private banking facility in the financial district. The building looked unremarkable from outside—just another elegant stone structure among dozens of similar buildings. But Elena knew these types of banks catered to clients who valued discretion above all else. Clients with secrets. Clients with something to hide.
"How do we get inside?" Ryan asked. "These places have security that makes Fort Knox look casual."
Elena pulled out a small metal key she had found in her father's desk years ago. She had kept it without knowing what it opened, just another memento of Antonio Cruz. Now she suspected it might unlock more than just a safe deposit box.
"My father prepared for contingencies," she said. "He always had backup plans. If something happened to him, he would have left me a way to access his secrets."
They approached the bank's entrance. A security guard stood inside, watching them through reinforced glass. Elena pressed the intercom button.
"Private appointment," she said in fluent German. "Account 4739. Elena Cruz."
The guard consulted a computer, then spoke into his radio. After a long moment, the door buzzed open. They entered a marble lobby that smelled of expensive cologne and old money. Another guard escorted them to an elevator that descended deep underground.
The elevator opened into a hallway lined with vault doors. Their escort led them to vault 4739 and stepped back discreetly. Elena inserted her father's key into the first lock. A panel opened, revealing a biometric scanner. She placed her hand on it, and the system read her palm print.
The massive door swung open with a pneumatic hiss.
Inside was a small room containing a single metal table and a large safe built into the wall. Elena approached the safe and found another biometric scanner. This one required both palm print and retinal scan. She completed both, and the safe clicked open.
Inside were stacks of documents, several external hard drives, multiple passports with different names but her father's photograph, and bundles of cash in various currencies. But Elena's attention focused on a leather journal sitting on top of everything else.
She picked up the journal with trembling hands and opened it to the first page. Her father's distinctive handwriting covered the pages in Spanish. The entry was dated fifteen years ago, just weeks before her mother's supposed death.
"Elena," the entry began. "If you are reading this, then I am dead and you have finally learned the truth about our family. I am sorry. I am so sorry for the lies, for the secrets, for the burden I have placed upon you. But you must understand—everything I did was to protect you and Julian. Everything."
Elena's throat tightened as she continued reading.
"The Consortium approached me twenty years ago when the family business was failing. They offered money, connections, power. In exchange, I would facilitate their operations in America. I refused initially. But then the threats began. They threatened to kill you. To kill Julian. To destroy Maria. I had no choice. I accepted their offer to save my family."
Ryan read over Elena's shoulder. "This is a confession. If Interpol had found this, your father would have spent the rest of his life in prison."
Elena turned the page. More entries detailed her father's growing involvement with the Consortium. Operations he facilitated. Money he laundered. People he bribed. The scope of Antonio's criminal activities was staggering. He had been a key figure in organized crime for two decades.
Then she reached an entry from fifteen years ago, and her blood turned to ice.
"They discovered that Maria was going to the authorities. She found evidence of my activities and planned to expose everything. The Consortium demanded I eliminate the threat. Eliminate my own wife. I could not do it. I would not. So I made a deal with them. They would take Maria and hold her as insurance for my continued cooperation. In exchange, I would help them expand their operations globally. I staged Maria's death and told the children she died in an accident. It was the only way to save her life."
Elena's hands shook so violently she nearly dropped the journal. Her mother. Her father had traded her mother's freedom to protect his criminal operations. He had let his children believe she was dead for fifteen years while she remained a prisoner.
"That son of a bitch," Elena whispered. Tears ran down her face, but they were tears of rage, not grief. "He sacrificed her. He sacrificed all of us for his own survival."
Ryan placed a hand on her shoulder. "Keep reading. There might be information about where they're holding her."
Elena forced herself to continue. The entries grew darker. Antonio described the Consortium's operations in detail—names, locations, account numbers. He documented everything, apparently planning to use this information as leverage if necessary.
One name appeared repeatedly: Viktor Kozlov. According to Antonio's notes, Kozlov was the Consortium's enforcer, responsible for eliminating threats and maintaining discipline. He was also the one who personally held Maria Cruz captive.
"Kozlov," Elena said, committing the name to memory. "He has my mother. And probably Julian too."
Near the end of the journal, she found an entry from just three weeks ago.
"They know I've been documenting everything. Someone told them about this vault, about my insurance policy. They've given me an ultimatum—turn over all evidence and continue working for them, or they will kill everyone I love. Starting with Maria. Then Julian. Then Elena. I have tried to protect my family my entire life, but I fear I have only endangered them further. If something happens to me, Elena must find this journal. She must take the evidence to the authorities. And she must save her mother and brother. She is strong enough. She is smart enough. She is everything I could never be—honest, brave, and good. God forgive me for the burden I place upon her shoulders."
The journal ended there. Elena closed it slowly and looked at Ryan.
"He knew they were going to kill him," she said. "He knew, and he didn't run. He didn't fight. He just waited for them to come."
"Because running would have meant abandoning your mother," Ryan said. "He was guilty of many things, but he loved his family. In his own twisted way."
Elena gathered the documents and hard drives from the safe. "We need to copy everything. This evidence can destroy the Consortium. But first, we need to find my family."
Ryan pulled out his phone and photographed every page of the journal, then began copying files from the hard drives to encrypted cloud storage. While he worked, Elena searched through the other documents. She found property deeds, financial statements, and photographs of Consortium members.
One photograph made her stop cold. It showed her father at a formal dinner, smiling and shaking hands with a distinguished-looking man in an expensive suit. The man was Viktor Kozlov. But standing beside Kozlov, also smiling for the camera, was someone Elena recognized.
Marcus. Her driver. The man who had worked for her family for ten years. The man she trusted completely.
"Ryan," she said, showing him the photograph. "Marcus works for them. He's been watching me this whole time."
Ryan swore quietly. "Which means they know we're in Zurich. They've probably known our location since we landed."
As if in response to his words, the lights in the vault suddenly went out. Emergency lighting flickered on, casting red shadows. And from somewhere above them, Elena heard the sound of gunfire.
"They're here," Ryan said, drawing his weapon. "We need to move. Now."
Elena grabbed the journal and as many documents as she could carry. Ryan finished downloading files to his phone and pocketed the hard drives. They ran to the elevator, but it was dead, locked down by the building's security system.
"Stairs," Ryan said, pointing to an emergency exit at the end of the hallway.
They ran through the underground complex. Behind them, Elena heard shouts in multiple languages and the thunder of boots on concrete. The Consortium's men were inside the bank, searching for them.
The emergency stairs led upward through narrow passages. Elena's lungs burned as they climbed flight after flight. Ryan stayed close, his gun ready. They emerged into the main lobby just as armed men burst through the front entrance.
"Back!" Ryan shouted, pulling Elena behind a marble pillar.
Gunfire erupted through the elegant space. Bullets shattered marble and glass. Elena covered her head as debris rained down around them. Ryan returned fire, dropping two attackers before his magazine ran empty.
"Through there!" Elena pointed to a side corridor she had noticed when they first entered.
They ran while bullets chased them. The corridor led to a service area with industrial elevators and loading docks. Ryan kicked open a door that led to an underground parking garage. Rows of expensive cars sat in organized lines.
Elena ran to a Mercedes sedan and smashed the driver's window with a fire extinguisher. She climbed inside and hot-wired the ignition, skills she had learned as a teenager in the Bronx before her father's money had made her respectable.
Ryan jumped into the passenger seat as Elena floored the accelerator. The Mercedes roared up the exit ramp and burst onto the street. Behind them, three SUVs full of armed men gave chase.
Elena drove like she was escaping hell itself, weaving through Zurich's morning traffic with reckless precision. She cut through narrow side streets and ran red lights. Pedestrians scattered. Horns blared. But the SUVs stayed close, their drivers equally skilled.
"They're not trying to kill us," Ryan observed, bracing himself as Elena took a corner at dangerous speed. "They're herding us somewhere."
He was right. Every time Elena tried to head toward the airport or the train station, the SUVs blocked her path, forcing her in a different direction. They were being driven toward the outskirts of the city.
"They want us alive," Elena realized. "They need the evidence. They can't risk killing us before they know where we stored the files."
"Then we use that," Ryan said. "Lead them somewhere we choose. Somewhere we can control."
Elena thought quickly, her mind racing through options. Then she remembered something from her father's journal. A property in the mountains outside Zurich. A facility the Consortium used for interrogations. If Viktor Kozlov had her mother and brother, they might be there.
It was insane. Suicidal. But it was also the only chance they had.
"Hold on," Elena said, and turned the Mercedes toward the mountains.