Chapter 38 - The Geneva Standoff
Thirty-six hours later, the private Gulfstream G650 touched down through the low grey fog of Geneva International Airport.
I didn't bring Christian and Maya. They were hidden in a subterranean bunker beneath an unlisted horse farm in Lexington, Kentucky, guarded by twelve former Delta operators whose payroll was cleared through an untraceable offshore gold depository.
I wore an ivory wool coat tailored by Savile Row, dark sunglasses, and carried a single leather briefcase containing the original 1922 Imperial Protocols ledger that I had recovered from the safe beneath Highwood's foundation.
The address was Rue du Rhône—the private banking sanctuary where the oldest money in Europe hid from the sunlight.
The boardroom was paneled in century-old French walnut. At the end of the forty-foot table sat Helena Sterling-Vance, looking immaculate in a charcoal Chanel suit, sipping black tea from a Meissen porcelain cup.
Surrounding her were six men in dark three-piece suits: the executive council of the Caspian Sovereign Credit Syndicate.
"You look tired, Clara," Helena said as I walked in without knocking. "Transatlantic flights are so dreadful in the winter."
"Cut the theatre, Helena," I said, setting the leather briefcase flat on the polished table.
The chairman of the syndicate, a gaunt Swiss banker named Baron Von Berg, cleared his throat. "Mrs. Vance, we hold authenticated default instruments signed by Julian Vance as legal guardian of the Sterling-Vance minor trusts. The sum of 2.4 billion euros was due at 9:00 AM Central European Time. The payment was not received."
"Therefore," Helena purred, "under Section 12 of the Geneva Imperial Protocols, guardianship of the assets and the minor beneficiaries transfers to the senior surviving matriarch. That is me."
"You made one mistake, Helena," I said, leaning both hands on the walnut table, staring straight into her cold blue eyes.
"And what is that, my dear?"
"You assumed Julian Vance was the legal guardian of the children's trusts."
May you like
I opened the briefcase with two sharp clicks of the brass locks.
***
