The private jet's engines whined as they climbed through the storm clouds above the Atlantic. Alyssa sat across from Dominic in the cabin's cream leather seats, her laptop open, fingers flying across the keyboard as she analyzed satellite imagery of Geneva. Between them lay weapons, documents, and enough encrypted communication equipment to outfit a small intelligence operation.
"Tell me about your sister," she said without looking up from the screen. "Skills, training, psychological profile. If we're going to extract her from Volkov, I need to know what we're working with."
Dominic was cleaning a Glock 19, his movements precise despite the turbulence. "Isabella's brilliant. PhD in biochemical engineering from MIT, specializes in synthetic pathogen research. She's also stubborn as hell and has zero sense of self-preservation when it comes to her work."
"Military training?"
"None. She can barely throw a punch." His jaw tightened. "She's a scientist, not a soldier. Whatever Volkov wants with her..."
"It's not about ransom." Alyssa pulled up a file on her screen Volkov's known operations over the past five years. Arms dealing, yes, but also something else. A pattern she was just beginning to recognize. "Look at this. Belgrade, 2023 he acquired a biotech facility. Prague, six months later kidnapped a virologist. Mumbai, last year stole research data from a pharmaceutical company."
"He's building something."
"Not building. Weaponizing." She turned the laptop toward him. "Your sister isn't bait, Dominic. She's the prize. Whatever pathogen research she's been working on, Volkov wants it."
The plane shuddered through another pocket of turbulence. Outside the windows, lightning split the darkness like fractures in black glass.
"Isabella's current project," Dominic said slowly, "is synthetic anthrax variants. Designed to be more virulent, harder to treat. The research is supposed to help develop better vaccines, but in the wrong hands..."
"It becomes a biological weapon that could kill millions." Alyssa felt ice in her veins. "And now Volkov has both the scientist and her research."
"No." Dominic set down the pistol. "He has Isabella, but her research is stored on secure servers at Hayes Industries. Biometric locks, quantum encryption even I can't access it remotely."
"Which is why he needs her alive. She's the only one who can unlock her own research." Alyssa's mind raced through possibilities. "But he also needs you. Your biometric data is probably tied to the company's security protocols."
"Along with two other senior executives. Redundant safeguards."
"Who are the others?"
"Julian Carter my best friend, head of security operations. And Dr. Sarah Chen, our chief research officer." Dominic's expression darkened. "Jesus. If Volkov is targeting people with access to Isabella's research..."
Alyssa was already pulling up phone records, financial data, anything that might indicate surveillance or compromise. "When did you last speak to Julian?"
"This morning. He was in London, meeting with potential investors." Dominic grabbed his secure phone. "No answer. Straight to voicemail."
"Dr. Chen?"
"Tokyo. Research conference." He tried another number. "Also voicemail."
"Two options," Alyssa said grimly. "Either they're both dead, or they're both in Volkov's custody. Along with your sister, that gives him three of the keys he needs to access the bioweapon research."
"Three keys aren't enough. The system requires all four senior executives to authorize access to Level 5 classified projects."
"Who's the fourth?"
Dominic met her eyes. "Me."
The plane's intercom crackled to life. "Mr. Hayes, we're beginning our descent into Geneva. Local time is 3:47 AM. Weather is clear, visibility unlimited."
Alyssa closed the laptop and began loading magazines for the assault rifles they'd acquired from the SUV's equipment cache. "Eighteen hours, minus travel time. We have maybe fourteen hours before Volkov loses patience and kills Isabella."
"Assuming she's still alive."
"She is. He needs her functional, which means relatively unharmed." She slotted a fresh magazine into an MP5 and chambered a round. "But Dominic, you need to understand something. Once we land in Geneva, everything changes. This isn't just about saving your sister anymore. If Volkov gets his hands on weaponized anthrax..."
"I know." He picked up his own weapon, checking the action with practiced ease. "Millions of people could die."
"So what's the play? We can't just walk into his trap."
"We don't walk into it." Dominic pulled out a tablet, showing her a detailed schematic. "We create a better one."
The image on screen showed the warehouse district where Volkov was holding Isabella; a maze of industrial buildings, shipping containers, and railway lines on the outskirts of Geneva. But Dominic had overlaid it with additional data: security camera locations, patrol routes, structural weaknesses.
"You've been planning this."
"Since the moment I got his text." His smile was cold. "Volkov thinks he knows me. Thinks I'm just a soft tech billionaire who'll fold under pressure. He's about to learn otherwise."
"What's the setup?"
"Marcus Reed my security chief is already in Geneva with a tactical team. Former military, all of them. They've been tracking Volkov's operation for the past six hours."
Alyssa studied the schematic. "How do you know they haven't been compromised? If Volkov has access to your company systems..."
"Because Marcus doesn't use company systems for black ops." Dominic's expression was grim. "He maintains his own network, his own resources.
Completely off the books. Has to, given some of the work I've asked him to do over the years."
"What kind of work?"
"The kind that keeps men like Volkov from destroying everything I've built." He met her eyes. "You're not the only one with a dark past, Alyssa. I didn't build Hayes Industries by playing nice."
The plane touched down with a slight bump, engines reversing as they taxied toward a private terminal. Through the windows, Alyssa could see armed figures waiting on the tarmac not airport security, but private military contractors in tactical gear.
"Your people?" she asked.
"Marcus and his team." Dominic was already moving toward the cabin door. "Ready to go to war."
They disembarked into the pre-dawn darkness, Switzerland's mountain air crisp and cold after the storm they'd left behind. Marcus Reed waited at the bottom of the aircraft stairs a compact man with prematurely gray hair and scars that spoke of violence survived. His handshake was firm, his eyes cold and professional.
"Situation report," Dominic said without preamble.
"Target confirmed at the warehouse complex, grid reference seven-seven-delta." Marcus's voice carried a slight British accent. "Thermal imaging shows approximately twenty hostiles, mixed small arms and explosives. They've got your sister in the central building, second floor, northeast corner."
"Guard rotation?"
"Every two hours. Next changeover is at oh-six-hundred, roughly ninety minutes from now." Marcus handed Alyssa a tactical vest and helmet. "But there's a complication. We've identified at least three separate groups operating in the area. Volkov's Russians, yes, but also what appears to be a Chinese intelligence unit and possibly German BND."
"Everyone wants the bioweapon research," Alyssa realized.
"Gets worse. Swiss authorities are mobilizing anti-terror units. They know something's happening, just not what. We have maybe two hours before this becomes an international incident."
Dominic strapped on his own gear. "Then we move fast and hard. What's the assault plan?"
"Multiple entry points, synchronized breach." Marcus pulled out a handheld tablet showing real-time drone footage of the warehouse complex. "Team Alpha takes the east entrance, Team Beta the west. You and Ms. Carter go in through the roof direct approach to the target."
"That's suicide," Alyssa said. "They'll be expecting exactly that kind of frontal assault."
"Which is why it'll work." Marcus's smile was predatory. "While they're focused on defending against the obvious threats, you extract the package and exfiltrate through the tunnel system."
"What tunnel system?"
"Cold War bunkers. The Swiss honeycombed this entire area with fallout shelters in the 1960s. Most were forgotten, but they're still there. Still connected." He highlighted a series of underground passages on the map. "Emergency exit route if everything goes sideways."
Alyssa studied the plan, looking for flaws, for variables they hadn't considered. It was aggressive, risky, and completely insane.
It might just work.
"Rules of engagement?" she asked.
"Anyone between us and Isabella dies," Dominic said flatly. "No exceptions, no hesitation. Volkov has crossed every line there is."
"Understood." Marcus checked his watch. "Transport leaves in five minutes. Breach at oh-five-thirty, just before dawn. Questions?"
Alyssa had a dozen questions, but they all boiled down to the same thing: were they walking into a massacre, or were they about to pull off the impossible?
"Let's go save your sister," she said instead.
As they loaded into the armored vehicles that would take them to the warehouse district, Dominic's phone buzzed one final time. Another message from Volkov; I know you're not coming alone, Mr. Hayes. I'm disappointed but not surprised. When this is over, I will take great pleasure in killing everyone you care about. Starting with the journalist.
Dominic showed her the message. "He knows we're coming."
"Good," Alyssa said, checking her weapons one last time. "Let him think he's ready for us."
The vehicles pulled away from the airport, heading into the Swiss darkness toward what would either be their greatest victory or their final battle.
In the distance, the first pale hints of dawn were beginning to touch the mountain peaks.