Chapter 6 - The Alpine Chase
"Never," I spat, my back pressed against the freezing iron railing of the balcony. The Swiss air whipped around us, carrying the distant roar of the city traffic below.
Richard sighed, looking genuinely disappointed. "You think you're a hero because you found a few old papers? You're a construct, Avery. We created you. We maintained you. And we can delete you."
He nodded to the two tactical guards. They lunged forward.
Instead of climbing over the railing, I did the one thing they didn't expect: I lunged forward, throwing the heavy, metal-bound hotel lamp directly into the face of the first guard. The bulb shattered, sparks flying as the man howled in pain. I bolted past him, diving through the open doorway into the hallway, my sneakers squeaking violently on the carpet.
"Get her!" Richard roared behind me.
I sprinted down the emergency stairwell, my lungs burning. My asthma was flaring up, a familiar, terrifying tightness constricting my chest, but the adrenaline overrode the pain. I couldn't stop. If I stopped, I died.
I burst through the hotel’s rear exit into a narrow, cobblestone alleyway. The rain was torrential now, turning the streets into slick mirrors. I ran blindly toward the river, the sound of heavy boots echoing close behind me.
Ahead of me, a sleek, black sedan pulled up to the curb with a screech of tires. The passenger door swung open.
"Get in!" a voice shouted.
It wasn't a voice I recognized. It belonged to a young woman with short, cropped blonde hair and sharp, intelligent eyes. She was dressed in the uniform of a Swiss federal transit officer, but there was an unmarked tactical vest visible underneath her jacket.
I had no choice. I dove into the front seat, slamming the door just as a bullet shattered the rear windshield. The car roared to life, fish-tailing out of the alley and plunging into the dark, winding roads leading up into the Swiss Alps.
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"Who are you?" I gasped, clutching my chest as I searched my pockets for my rescue inhaler.
"My name is Elena Vance," the woman said, cornering a sharp turn with professional precision. "Officer Vance from Chicago is my uncle. He called me the second he realized Richard had skipped bail and bought a black-market ticket to Zurich. I’ve been tracking the Lucien Group for three years, Miss Vane. And tonight, we’re going to end them."
