The sirens faded behind us, lost in the city's noise and the steady hum of the Audi's engine. Nyx drove with a calm, precise focus. Her eyes were always on the road, the mirrors, and the sky. She was no longer just a hacker; she had become a professional operative, a "ghost" in every way.
Inside the car, we sat in shocked silence. With the immediate danger gone, the reality of our situation began to weigh heavily on us. We were the three most wanted women on the continent, holding the world's most dangerous secret, and heading to a supposed safe house to save a man who might already be dead.
Aria was in the backseat, curled up tightly. Her sobs were silent, but her shoulders shook. The audio file had given her a reason to live, but it also brought agonizing hope that felt worse than certain grief.
I sat in the front, my new high-spec laptop open and connected to one of the burners. The ledger sat heavy in my backpack at my feet. But the true burden rested on my shoulders. I was the Queen. I had given the orders, and now I needed a plan.
"It's not enough," I said softly, breaking the silence.
Nyx glanced at me. "What's not enough? The car? The cash?"
"The hope," I clarified, focusing on the encrypted map Elias sent to my laptop. "The audio file. It's proof of life, but it's also a leash. The new boss sent it. He wanted us to have it. He's a sadist. He knows we will trade the ledger for Dante. He's forcing us to come to him. He's pulling our strings."
"So what do we do?" Nyx asked quietly. "We can't just leak the ledger. They'll kill him. We can't just show up for the trade. They'll kill us all. We're stuck."
"No," I said, the cold logic cutting through my fear. "We're in the only position that matters. We have the one thing they can't afford to lose. We have their history, their names, their accounts. We don't just have a bargaining chip; we have the gun to their head. We're not trading. We're taking. We're going to walk into their fortress, carry our king out, and if they try to stop us, we'll burn their history to the ground."
Nyx fell silent for a moment, absorbing the boldness of the plan. A slow, dangerous smile spread across her face. "I'm really starting to like you, Queen. But for that, we need to disappear completely. We're a clean car, but we're still a car. We're still on their map."
"We're not driving to Switzerland," she continued, anticipating my next question. "We'd hit a dozen borders. Facial recognition, license plate scanners... they'd catch us before we reached Germany. We must fly."
"Commercial is suicide," I replied.
"Agreed. Elias has already seen this coming. He has a plane ready. A Pilatus PC-12, a fast prop plane registered to a shell company that researches migratory birds. It's at a private airfield in Luxembourg. Two-hour drive. We ditch the Audi, get on the plane, and we'll be in the Alps by noon."
The plan was solid. It was real. We drove on.
An hour later, we reached the Belgian-Luxembourg border. It was a small, rural checkpoint, not a major highway. My heart raced. This was our first test of our new identities. I had the ledger in my backpack, a block of C-4 in the trunk, and a gun in my waistband. I had never felt more like a criminal.
A uniformed guard, looking bored, waved us down. Nyx, in sunglasses and giving off the vibe of a high-powered exec on a weekend trip, rolled down the window. Aria and I, in the back, were "the interns," pretending to sleep against the windows.
The guard scanned Nyx's (fake) license and our (fake) passports. My pulse pounded in my ears.
The scanner beeped. Green light.
"Business or pleasure, ma'am?" he asked in French.
"A banking summit," Nyx replied, her tone crisp and indifferent. "Am I late?"
He chuckled and handed the documents back. "You're fine. Have a good day."
He waved us through.
We didn't breathe until we were five miles into Luxembourg. I slumped against the seat, the tension leaving me weak.
The airfield was small, isolated, and battered by a strong crosswind. A sleek, dark-grey turboprop plane waited in an open hangar. A man in a pilot's uniform stood at its base, not looking at us, just smoking a cigarette. He was another one of Dante's ghosts.
We parked the Audi in the hangar, out of sight of the road, and climbed out. The pilot didn't ask our names. He just nodded at Nyx and started his pre-flight checks.
"Let's go," Nyx said, grabbing her gear.
I took one last look at the Audi, at the country we were leaving, at the life I was abandoning. I climbed the steps into the small, luxurious cabin of the plane. It was built for speed, for ghosts.
In ten minutes, we were airborne. The plane climbed steeply, banking south and pushing through thick, low clouds. We broke free, and for the first time in what felt like forever, we bathed in brilliant sunlight.
Below us, the world was a map of green and grey. We were above the board, above the game. I looked at Aria. She had her face pressed against the window, watching the clouds rush by, a single tear of hope tracing a path down her cheek. I glanced at Nyx, already linked into the plane's high-speed satellite comms, coordinating with Elias, a warrior at her station.
I opened the backpack and took out the ledger. I placed it on the polished mahogany table in front of me. The plane, our silver chariot, sped toward the Alps.
The queen and her court were on their way to the Serpent's Heart, and we were coming to build an army.