Chapter 45 - The Infiltration of Vienna
Forty-eight hours later, the Grand Imperial Hotel in Vienna was hosting the annual European Bio-Pharma Summit. Under the towering crystal chandeliers and gilded vaulted ceilings, hundreds of billionaire investors, pharmaceutical executives, and high-ranking diplomats clinked champagne glasses, celebrating record quarterly profits.
Among them, dressed in a tailored midnight-blue tuxedo, David Vance moved through the crowd like a phantom. A forged Swiss diplomatic badge, manufactured by Marcus’s underground connections, rested inconspicuously in his breast pocket. In his earpiece, Marcus’s voice hummed with static from a surveillance van parked three streets away.
"Perimeter security is tight, David. Helena brought in private contractors from Munich. They have facial recognition cameras covering every entrance to the grand ballroom. You have about twelve minutes before their AI flags your bone structure."
"Understood," David muttered softly, pretending to adjust his cufflink. "Where is Veta?"
"She’s in the auxiliary server van with me," Marcus replied. "She just tapped into the hotel’s internal broadcast feed. If this goes south, David, we won't be able to pull you out."
"It won't go south," David said coldly.
On the raised dais at the front of the ballroom, Baroness Helena von Steiger stepped up to the podium. The applause was polite, reverent, and deafening. Behind her, a massive LED screen displayed the logo of Aegis-Nascence, heralding the announcement of their newest "breakthrough" in genetic longevity treatments.
"Distinguished colleagues," Helena began, her voice echoing through the acoustic splendor of the hall. "Tonight, we stand upon the threshold of human re-engineering. For decades, terminal pulmonary degeneration was considered an irreversible tragedy. But through visionary private investment, Aegis-Nascence has developed the master biological vector..."
David stepped forward, parting the sea of tuxedoed oligarchs until he stood directly in the center aisle, barely thirty feet from the stage.
"A vector you stole from an American child whose life-support you ordered destroyed," David’s voice rang out, clear, resonant, and carrying the force of an unyielding hammer.
The entire ballroom fell dead silent. Security personnel along the perimeter froze in confusion. Helena’s rehearsed smile vanished, replaced by an icy, murderous rigidity.
"Doctor Vance," Helena said through the microphone, her tone dripping with venomous restraint. "You are trespassing on private diplomatic property. Security, remove this man."
Six armed private guards converged on David from both sides. But David didn't move an inch. He simply reached into his pocket and lifted a small handheld transmitter.
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"You told me that Arthur Sterling’s mistake was letting the public see his cruelty," David said, his gaze locked onto Helena’s pale eyes. "You made the exact same mistake. You assumed that because you operated in shadows, the light couldn't find you."
He pressed the button.
