GENEVA: THE HUNT BEGINS
1158 Words
CHAPTER 7: GENEVA
_Book 2 - The Hunt Begins_
---
The jet was small. No windows. No logo.
7 sat across from Maya. Handler was in the cockpit, talking to someone in Russian.
"First target," Maya said, flipping through the folder. Her voice was steady but her hands weren’t. "Elias Varn. Swiss banker. 61. Committee Member #5."
7 didn’t answer. He was cleaning a gun. Methodical. The same way he breathed.
"Property in Geneva. Lake house. 24/7 security. Private security firm, not government," Maya continued. "He’s been moving money for the last 3 months. A lot of it. To Dubai, Singapore, Buenos Aires."
"Covering his tracks," 7 said. "Or funding Part 2."
Handler came back. He looked worse in the light. More gray. More tired. "Touchdown in 20. Private airstrip outside Geneva. Car will be waiting. No papers. No names."
"And Varn?" 7 asked.
"Stays at the lake house every weekend. Alone. Thinks he’s safe because Switzerland is neutral," Handler said. "He’s wrong."
Maya looked up. "What’s the plan?"
"Same as always," 7 said. "In. Out. Evidence. Then we disappear."
Handler shook his head. "Not this time. We need him alive."
That made 7 stop cleaning. "Why?"
"Because he knows where the other 7 are. And because the FBI is 6 hours behind us. If they catch him first, we lose him to lawyers and deals."
Maya closed the folder. "So we take him. Question him. Then what?"
"Then we decide," Handler said. "But alive."
7 nodded once. "In. Out. Alive."
The jet landed hard. No lights. Just fog and cold.
The car was black. Tinted. Swiss plates. Handler drove. Maya rode shotgun. 7 sat in the back, watching everything.
Geneva at 3AM was quiet. Too quiet. Water on the streets from earlier rain. The lake was black and still.
They parked a kilometer from the lake house. Walked the rest.
Varn’s security was good. Cameras on the gate. Motion sensors. Two guards at the front door.
7 watched from the trees for 10 minutes. Counting patterns. Breathing.
"Left guard checks his phone every 4 minutes," 7 whispered. "Right guard smokes. Every 20."
"So?" Maya whispered back.
"So we wait 19."
They waited.
At minute 19, the right guard pulled out a cigarette. The left guard looked down at his phone.
7 moved.
No sound. No flash. The left guard went down first. Chokehold. Clean. The right guard turned, cigarette halfway to his mouth. 7 was already there.
60 seconds. Both down. Breathing.
"Clear," 7 said into the comm.
Handler and Maya moved in.
The lake house was modern. Glass and steel. Cold. Like Varn.
They found him in his office. Drinking wine. Watching the lake.
He didn’t look surprised when 7 walked in with a gun.
"Asset 7," Varn said. He had an accent. Swiss. Rich. "I wondered when you’d come."
"Sit down," 7 said.
Varn sipped his wine. "No."
7 didn’t repeat it. He just shot the glass out of Varn’s hand.
Glass and wine everywhere. Varn didn’t flinch.
"Better," 7 said. "Sit."
Varn sat.
Handler zip-tied his hands. Maya set up a camera. For evidence.
"You don’t understand," Varn said. "What we were doing. What the Director was doing. It was necessary."
"Necessary," Maya repeated. "Crashing the economy is necessary?"
"The world is broken," Varn said. "Too many people. Too much debt. Too much chaos. We were going to reset it. Clean slate. A new order."
"By killing billions," 7 said. Flat.
"By sacrificing thousands," Varn corrected. "To save billions. That’s math."
7 stepped closer. "Where are the other 7?"
Varn smiled. "You think I’d tell you?"
Handler pulled out a knife. Not to hurt. Just to remind. "You will."
Varn looked at all of them. Then he laughed. "You’re too late. Part 2 already started."
Maya froze. "What?"
"Singapore," Varn said. "In 48 hours. A server. A virus. It’ll take down the Asian banks. Then Dubai. Then Buenos Aires. Dominoes."
7’s jaw tightened. "Where in Singapore?"
Varn shook his head. "Kill me. I don’t care. I’m 61. I’ve lived. But you’ll never stop it. There are too many of us. And you’re just one man."
7 looked at Handler. Handler looked back. Same thought.
"We can’t take him with us," Handler said. "Too risky. FBI is close."
"And we can’t leave him," Maya said. "He’ll talk. Or they’ll get him out."
7 stared at Varn. 25 years of training said: eliminate the threat.
But Maya was here. And Handler was here. And he wasn’t Asset 7 anymore.
7 holstered his gun. "We’re not killing him."
Handler frowned. "7—"
"We’re not killing him," 7 repeated. Louder. "We turn him in. Anonymously. With the evidence."
"That’ll take time we don’t have," Handler argued. "Singapore is 48 hours."
"Then we move fast," 7 said. "We hit Singapore next. Stop the virus. Then we come back for the rest."
Maya nodded. "He’s right. We’re not them. We don’t execute people in their homes."
Handler sighed. Rubbed his face. "Fine. But if this goes bad—"
"It won’t," 7 said.
They tied Varn to a chair. Left the evidence on the table. USB drives. Bank records. Photos. And a note: `FROM A FRIEND.`
On the way out, 7 paused. Looked back at Varn.
"You were wrong about one thing," 7 said. "I’m not just one man."
Then he left.
---
They were in the air 2 hours later. Commercial flight this time. Different names. Different faces.
Singapore. 44 hours left.
Maya slept on 7’s shoulder. Handler drank coffee and didn’t sleep.
7 stared out the window. Clouds. Dark.
His phone buzzed. Burner phone. Unknown number.
He answered.
"Brother."
Viper.
7’s blood went cold. "Where are you?"
"Close," Viper said. "Closer than you think. I saw what you did in Colorado. You let me live. Mistake."
"What do you want?"
"I want you," Viper said. "I want to see if the Ghost still bleeds. Singapore. I’ll be there. And when I’m done with you, I’m going to kill her."
The line went dead.
7 put the phone down. His hands were shaking. Not from fear. From anger.
Maya woke up. "What?"
"Viper," 7 said. "He’s in Singapore."
Handler cursed in Russian. "Of course he is. He wants you. Personal."
"Then he gets me," 7 said. "But not her. Never her."
Maya took his hand. "We do this together. Like always."
7 looked at her. Really looked. The woman who pulled a weapon out of the dark and didn’t run. The woman who made him remember what it felt like to be human.
"Okay," 7 said. "Together."
The plane started descending. Singapore lights below. Millions of them.
And somewhere in that city, a virus was waiting. And a ghost with a grudge.
7 checked his gun one more time.
Book 2 had officially started.
And this time, he wasn’t running.
He was hunting.
END OF CHAPTER 7
_Next: CHAPTER 8 - SINGAPORE. 44 HOURS. 1 VIRUS. 1 BROTHER._
- Writer
