Chapter 45 - The Parisian Fortress

|
The chateau on the outskirts of Paris was less of a home and more of a heavily fortified bunker disguised as a nineteenth-century estate. We had purchased it through three shell companies immediately after the Vanguard Apex collapsed, knowing we might need a European stronghold.
As we pulled through the reinforced iron gates, Ben’s specialized private security team was already waiting.
"Welcome to Paris, Mrs. Sterling," greeted Elias, the commander of the security detail. He was a former French Foreign Legionnaire, a mountain of a man with a scar running down his cheek. He carried a suppressed submachine gun slung across his chest.
"Status report, Elias," I demanded, stepping out of the car and pulling my coat tight against the brisk evening air.
"The perimeter is entirely secure," Elias reported, falling into step beside me as Ben carried Clara’s car seat toward the heavy oak doors. "We have thermal cameras covering the grounds, laser tripwires in the woods, and an anti-drone frequency jammer on the roof. No one steps foot on this property without us knowing."
"The Council of the Seven Spheres isn't a street gang, Elias," Ben warned as we entered the grand foyer, which was now filled with server racks and tactical gear. "They have technology that makes the military look like amateurs. Do not trust the cameras. Trust your eyes."
"Understood, sir. We have twelve men on active rotation. We are ready."
I walked over to the central command table, dropping the printed coordinates Natalie had sent me onto the map of Paris.
"We leave Clara here with the interior guard," I instructed, tracing a line from our chateau to the 11th arrondissement. "Tonight, Ben and I are going to pay a visit to this abandoned subway station. If the Spheres are operating a data node out of that location, we are going to burn it to the ground."
May you like
Elias looked at the map, frowning slightly. "That sector of the catacombs is completely unmapped, ma'am. It’s a death trap."
"Good," I replied, loading a magazine into my pistol with a sharp, metallic click. "Then they won't expect company."