Eva shoots me an alarmed look.
“The tunnel runs downhill toward us,” Von Dietz adds.
“So it was for inbound smuggling,” I say.
“Correct. The French exit is fitted with a sled system. Goods were strapped down, then pulled by a winch at the lodge.”
Eva crosses her arms. “What kind of goods?”
“Drugs. Stolen jewelry. Counterfeit luxury items. Blood diamonds. And weapons.”
Weapons.
Eva flinches.
My stomach knots. I think of Kurt Ozzi’s sniper, and I know so does she.
I grip the table. “How recent?”
Von Dietz meets my eyes. “Very recent.”
I turn to Eva. She’s pale, her lips pressed thin.
I don’t soften my tone. “Did Kurt Ozzi use it?”
“Yes,” Von Dietz says flatly.
The concrete walls seem to close in.
Eva exhales hard and stares at her hands. I lean forward, every muscle strung tight. The dots connect, and the picture they form isn’t pretty.
29
ALEX
Von Dietz’s eyes are sharp as he watches us. Eva sits rigid, her hands gripping the handbag on her lap.
I keep my voice steady. “What makes you so certain Ozzi used the tunnel recently?”
Von Dietz flips open another file. “First, the timeline. We found fresh tool marks, fragments of foam insulation, bubble wrap, and synthetic lubricants manufactured only in the last three years.”
“OK.” I cross my arms. “So, the tunnel was active recently.”
He gives me a tight smile. “There’s more. My team found splinters of treated wood stamped with a faint but readable manufacturer’s mark. Serial number traces back to a Belgian crate supplier. Weapon crates.”
He lets that sink in. I rub my jaw, bracing for the worst.
“One of their biggest buyers,” he continues, “is a logistics subsidiary controlled by Kurt Ozzi.”
And Geoffroy?I itch to ask, but I clamp my jaw shut. If Von Dietz has a bomb to drop, he’ll drop it.
Eva inhales sharply, eyes closing. I bet she’s picturing the sniper on the cliff, scope glinting and bullets screaming through the pass.
When she looks at me again, her gaze is full of resignation. Like me, she’s steeling herself for Geoffroy’s name.
Von Dietz slides a document across the table. “Surveillance triangulation.”
Eva barely looks at it before nudging it toward me.
