Chapter 48 - The Lion’s Ascent
Thirty-eight thousand feet above the North Atlantic, the retrofitted supersonic transport roared through the stratosphere at Mach 3.2.
Inside the pressurized medical bay of the jet, Sadi worked with mechanical precision. She had stabilized Vivienne’s arm, pumping her full of broad-spectrum antibiotics and mild sedatives—just enough to keep her conscious, but entirely immobilized.
Desmond stood over the navigation table, reviewing three-dimensional schematics of the Château de Chillon on the shores of Lake Geneva.
"The castle itself is a historic monument," Desmond explained, his finger tracing an underground conduit extending two hundred feet beneath the lake bed. "During the Cold War, the Swiss military built a covert communications bunker directly beneath the dungeon level. In 1982, Arthur bought the decommissioned installation through three shell foundations in Vaduz. It has only one entrance: a pneumatic blast hatch beneath the wine cellars."
"And the defenses?" Sadi asked, walking over to join him, wiping antiseptic from her hands.
"Automated sentry guns, atmospheric pressure locks, and an independent geothermal reactor," Desmond said. "Vivienne wasn't lying about the failsafe. Look at the data uplink."
He pointed to a blinking red counter on the tactical terminal.
*03:14:22*
*03:14:21*
"Three hours," Sadi murmured. "When the timer hits zero, the atmospheric scrubber in Arthur’s room switches to pure nitrogen."
"Then we don't pick the locks," Desmond said, his eyes burning with an ancient, dark fire. "We blow the gates off their hinges."
He looked at her, noticing the pale exhaustion lining her features. "You should have stayed with Liam in the safehouse, Sadi."
"Liam is safe with your four best men in the Cheyenne bunker," she said, leaning against his chest, drawing strength from his warmth. "And my place is here. Whatever is waiting down in that dark water, Desmond... whether it's your father's ghost or my mother's madness... we face it together."
Desmond wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. "Together."
From the medical cot across the cabin, Vivienne let out a dry, raspy chuckle. Her eyes were glazed with fever, but her malice was undiminished.
"You look so beautiful together," Vivienne mocked. "The healer and the executioner. But tell me, Desmond... did you ever ask yourself why your transverse myelitis never responded to any specialist in Europe? Why three world-class neurologists declared you permanently paralyzed?"
Desmond stiffened.
"What did you do?" he whispered.
May you like
"Not me, darling," Vivienne sneered, her eyes fixing onto Sadi with vicious delight. "Ask your father. Ask him what he ordered injected into your spinal fluid the night of your car accident. Sadi wasn't sent to heal you, Desmond. She was sent to undo Arthur’s greatest sin."
***
