If she wanted to start a war, she needed allies and a plan. She needed relics and weapons. It would cost a great deal of money to fund such an undertaking.
That’s when she remembered the bank. Sarah had told her to present the number stamped on the charm around her neck at the Trivium Bank in Geneva. She was pretty sure the Trivium was the bank William had mentioned.
If she could travel to Geneva, perhaps she could withdraw enough money to finance her revenge. Perhaps Borek would help her if she paid him enough.
Aoibhe had known to look for her in Geneva. That had been some time ago, however—before Borek visited Budapest and Prague. Hopefully any other spies she’d sent would have quit Geneva and begun looking for her elsewhere.
To Geneva she would go.
Chapter Sixty-One
RAVEN ARRIVED IN VIENNA, and after a short layover and a last-minute change from one train to another, she was bound for Geneva.#p#分页标题#e#
The trip from Vienna to Geneva was long. She spent the night on the train and arrived at the station just before seven o’clock the next morning. She secured a taxi and asked the driver to take her to the Trivium Bank. He gave her a strange look but pulled away immediately.
She slipped the necklace Sarah had given her over her head and looked at the number stamped on the charm. The numbers were very small.
She took a photo of the charm with her camera and then looped the necklace back over her head.
Using the photo application on her phone, she enlarged the image so the numbers were visible. She withdrew a piece of paper and a pen from her carry-on and quickly copied the digits.
Some time later, the taxi driver pulled up in front of an impressive building that sat behind a high wall. The bank was located on Rue des Alpes, near Lake Geneva.
“I can’t pull in.” The driver pointed to the enormous iron gates and the security guards posted on either side.
Raven thanked the driver and paid him, exiting the taxi.
She approached the gates, but the guards stopped her immediately.
“Bonjour,” she greeted them nervously. She handed one of them the piece of paper.
The guard indicated that she should wait, and he entered the guardhouse, leaving her with his companion. She watched as the first guard lifted a telephone and began speaking to someone.
In short order he returned, and one of his associates appeared on the other side of the iron gates.
The gates opened, and the associate, who was armed, addressed her in Italian. “This way, please.”
Raven shuffled behind him, following him to a large, metal door that led into the central stone building. The door swung open, and she followed the guard inside.
“Good morning.” An attractive woman wearing a white lab coat greeted Raven, once again speaking Italian. “Before we can admit you, we need to conduct a DNA test.”
Raven’s mouth dropped open. “DNA? Is that necessary? I gave you the number.”
“We need to know you are the person associated with the number.” The woman’s tone was firm.
“What about my passport?”
The woman’s forehead wrinkled, as if Raven was asking a very silly question.
“Will you take blood?” Raven asked, beginning to feel squeamish.
“Just a mouth swab.” The woman pointed to a small office and ushered Raven inside.
Raven sighed. She’d come this far. Presumably, she was safe inside the bank. At least for the present.
The woman snapped on a pair of latex gloves and opened a small kit while Raven sat in an armchair.
She was very tired. She hadn’t slept much on the train, fearful as she was of someone accosting her.
“Open,” the woman instructed.
Raven opened her mouth, and the woman scraped the inside of her cheek, placing the sample in a plastic tube. She sealed it, placed tape over the top of it and wrote something on the label.
“How long will it take?” Raven asked.
“Not long. Wait here.” The woman took off her gloves and placed them in a waste can. She took the tube and the kit and disappeared down the hall.
Raven leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, just for a moment.
A throat cleared above her.
“Madame?”
Raven startled awake. “What is it? Who are you?”
She looked up into the face of an older man with neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper hair, who was wearing small, wire-rimmed spectacles and a very expensive-looking suit and tie.
He extended his hand. “Good morning, madame. Welcome to Trivium. I am Henri Marchand, the director.”#p#分页标题#e#
Raven shook his hand, still in a daze from having been fast asleep only a moment before.
“I’m sorry it took so long for me to greet you. Because it’s Sunday, I was not in the building when you arrived. And we had to confirm your identity. This way, please.” He waved his arm toward the corridor.