Chapter 11 - The Trap Set in GenevaThe satellite phone rested on the metal table, its small LED screen blinking a steady blue. Vincent nodded to Marcus, who tapped the speakerphone icon and pushed the device toward Klaus.
With trembling fingers, Klaus punched in a secure international country code, routing the call directly through an encrypted relay station in Zurich. It rang three times before a smooth, cultured European voice answered on the other end.
"Report," Alexander Vance demanded, his voice crisp, impatient, and dripping with corporate arrogance from thousands of miles away.
Klaus swallowed hard, glancing up at Vincent before speaking in a steady, rehearsed tone. "Mr. Vance. The extraction team encountered heavy local resistance. The estate security was far more sophisticated than our intelligence indicated."
A sharp intake of breath hissed through the phone speaker. "Did you secure the research drives? Did you retrieve my brother?"
"Negative, sir," Klaus continued, following Vincent’s silent hand gestures. "We were pinned down by automated defenses and local enforcers. Two of our men are detained. The rest of us managed to fall back to our secondary safehouse outside Atlanta. We need immediate exfiltration instructions."
Silence hung heavily over the international line for several seconds. When Alexander spoke again, his voice was laced with cold, frustrated fury. "Incompetent fools. If the local authorities or Moretti’s men interrogate my brother and discover the full scope of the neurotoxin patents, it could ruin our entire European pharmaceutical portfolio."
Vincent slowly leaned forward, pressing the mute button off with his thumb, and spoke directly into the phone's microphone.
"Don't worry, Alexander," Vincent’s deep, resonant voice echoed across the quiet room. "Your brother is resting very comfortably right now. And as for your patents? I think the FDA, the World Health Organization, and the federal Department of Justice would love to examine every single clinical trial file your family has ever hidden."
The line went dead silent in Geneva. For a moment, the only sound was the faint electronic static of the satellite relay.
"Who is this?" Alexander's voice dropped into a tense, dangerous register. "Do you have any idea who you are speaking to?"
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"I am Vincent Moretti," Vincent replied, his tone as cold as winter ice. "And you just committed an act of war on American soil against my family. Pack your bags, Alexander. Because you're about to find out what happens when a pharmaceutical billionaire tries to play god in a lion's den."
Vincent tapped the screen, cutting the call. He looked at Marcus with a sharp, decisive nod. "Notify our federal contacts in Washington. Send the complete decrypted drive containing Dr. Vance’s illegal human trials and financial ledgers directly to the U.S. Attorney General's office. Let an international arrest warrant be issued for Alexander Vance by sunrise."
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