The conference room dominated the forty second floor of an anonymous glass monolith in Luxembourg, a neutral haven engineered for evasion and excess.
No plaques marred the lobby directory. no signage hinted at occupants. Access demanded a retinal scan synced to a rotating RFID fob, the private elevator a silent ascent into oblivion.
They had been yanked from their routines with under twelve hours warning. The disparate private jets, phones surrendered at the threshold, NDAs refreshed in transit.
At the table's apex loomed the enigma they served in whispers. A silhouette cloaked in tactical precision.
He embodied the legend. The matte black surgical mask melding seamlessly with a hooded jacket of ballistic weave, shadows devouring any glimpse of flesh.
Thin leather gloves sheathed his
