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  ### Chapter 7: FOLLOW THE MONEY

  #### Paris, France – 8:00 AM

  Leon Graves sat at his desk, the glow of his laptop screen illuminating his focused expression. The encrypted ledger on his display contained the key to his next move. He wasn’t a hacker, but in his profession, understanding financial trails was just as crucial as knowing how to fire a rifle.

  His apartment was minimalist, with clean lines and functional furniture. The walls were bare except for a single photograph of a mountainous landscape—a reminder of the solitude he often sought. The only sound in the room was the clicking of his keyboard as he worked through the layers of encryption.

  Money always left a footprint.

  The €2.5 million he had received upfront had been transferred through multiple offshore accounts, each designed to obscure its origin. That was standard in his line of work. But the issue wasn’t the money he had received—it was the money he hadn’t.

  A contract was a contract.

  And someone had tried to cheat him.

  Leon plugged in a second USB drive, one loaded with tools he used to verify payments. This wasn’t just about verification. This was a hunt. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the data on his screen.

  #### 10:15 AM

  Lines of encrypted data flashed across the screen as Leon worked through the layers of obfuscation. The payment had been laundered through financial institutions in the Cayman Islands, Luxembourg, and Singapore—classic methods to make tracking nearly impossible.

  But nearly impossible wasn’t good enough.

  Leon bypassed the surface-level details and searched for anomalies. Small inconsistencies in transaction logs. Timestamps that didn’t align. Metadata hidden beneath automated transfers. To an ordinary analyst, these would seem like insignificant errors. But to Leon, they were breadcrumbs leading to his target.

  And then—he found it.

  A Swiss bank account.

  Numbered accounts weren’t tied to names directly, but Swiss banks still required an initial deposit from a verifiable source. That meant someone, somewhere, had to sign off on it.

  Leon smirked.

  Found you.

  ---

  #### Swiss Bank in Paris

  Leon walked through the polished lobby of a Swiss bank in Paris, blending in seamlessly among the city’s elite. Disguised as a weak old man under his alias George Allen, he carried himself with the air of a wealthy investor. His hair was slightly grayed, his posture subtly stooped, and he wore a pair of reading glasses that added to the illusion. He walked with a slight limp, using a cane for support. The marble floors gleamed, and the air was filled with the faint scent of expensive cologne.

  He approached the reception desk where a middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed beard and a name tag that read "Thomas Müller" greeted him with a polite smile.

  "Good morning, sir. How may I assist you today?" Thomas asked.

  Leon returned the smile, though his eyes remained cold and calculating. "Good morning, young man. I need to speak with one of your financial advisors about a specific transaction," he said, handing over his forged identification documents with a slight tremor in his hand.

  Thomas glanced at the documents, then looked up at Leon. "Of course, Mr. Allen. Please follow me."

  Leon followed Thomas through the opulent lobby, his movements slow and deliberate, and into a private office. The room was elegantly furnished, with dark wood panels and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a stunning view of the city. A painting of a serene landscape hung on one wall, adding to the room's sophisticated ambiance.

  Thomas gestured to a leather chair. "Please have a seat. One of our advisors will be with you shortly."

  Leon nodded and carefully lowered himself into the chair, his mind already working through the next steps. He didn't have to wait long before the door opened, and a young woman with a professional demeanor entered the room.

  Elena Fischer was in her early thirties, with sharp features and piercing blue eyes that contrasted with her dark hair, which was pulled back into a neat bun. She wore a tailored navy suit that spoke of both authority and elegance. Her movements were precise and deliberate, reflecting a sense of confidence and competence.

  "Good morning, Mr. Allen. I'm Elena Fischer, one of the financial advisors here. How can I assist you today?" she asked, extending her hand.

  Leon stood with some effort and shook her hand, his grip weak. "Good morning, Ms. Fischer. I need some information about a specific transaction that was made into one of my accounts. I believe your bank facilitated the transfer."

  Elena sat down behind her desk and pulled up her computer. "Of course, Mr. Allen. Could you please provide me with the details of the transaction?"

  Leon handed her a piece of paper with the transaction details, his hand trembling slightly. "This transfer of €2.5 million was made into my account a few weeks ago. I need to know the source of the funds."

  Elena nodded and began typing on her keyboard. The room was silent except for the soft clicking of the keys. Leon observed the room, taking in the details. The scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, and the soft hum of the air conditioning created a calming atmosphere.

  After a few moments, Elena looked up. "I see the transaction here. It appears the funds were transferred through multiple intermediaries, but I can trace it back to the original source."

  Leon watched her carefully, his expression unreadable.

  Elena continued to type, her brow furrowing slightly as she navigated through the complex web of financial transactions. Finally, she looked up, her eyes meeting Leon's. "The original source of the funds is a numbered Swiss bank account. However, I'm sorry, Mr. Allen, but we cannot provide client information due to confidentiality policies. Our clients' privacy is of utmost importance to us."

  Leon nodded thoughtfully. "I understand the need for confidentiality. Thank you for your time." He stood up slowly, using his cane for support. "I appreciate your help, Ms. Fischer."

  Elena nodded, her expression professional. "You're welcome, Mr. Allen. Have a good day."

  Leon left the bank, his mind racing with the new information. As he exited the building, he realized that the bank's strict confidentiality meant that the account holder was indeed a significant client. The fact that Elena didn't have permission to access the information indicated the importance of this individual.

  Leon knew he had to dig deeper. He returned to his hotel room and set up his laptop, diving into online research about the bank branch's higher officials. He needed someone who would suit his agenda—someone single and likely to be vulnerable in his plan; then only his plan would work perfectly.

  #### Leon's Hotel Room – Paris

  Leon meticulously searched through online profiles, news articles, and professional networks. He created a list of potential targets, examining their backgrounds, personal lives, and social connections. He needed someone who wouldn't arouse suspicion if they suddenly disappeared for a few days.

  After hours of research, Leon found his target. Francois Dubois, the Assistant Director of the bank branch, was single, lived alone, and had a reputation for being a discreet and private individual. He rarely socialized with his colleagues and kept his personal life separate from his professional duties.

  Leon stared at Francois' profile, scrutinizing every detail. He then began to delve deeper into Francois' life, gathering as much information as possible about his routines, habits, and connections. He needed to understand his target completely to execute his plan flawlessly. He found Francois' home address and noted that the house likely had CCTV and an alarm system.

  Leon knew he had to be prepared. He selected the tools he would need to crack the security systems—electronic jammers, lock-picking sets, and a laptop with specialized software. He laid out his equipment methodically, ensuring everything was in perfect order.

  That night, Leon dressed in black, blending into the shadows. He wore a black cap to further obscure his identity. As the sun set and darkness enveloped the city, Leon made his way to Francois' house. The quiet suburban neighborhood was well-maintained, with manicured lawns and modern houses.

  Leon approached the house stealthily, staying out of sight of the streetlights. He carefully observed the layout of the property, noting the locations of the security cameras and the control panel for the alarm system. He used his electronic jammer to disable the CCTV cameras temporarily, ensuring there would be no footage of his presence.

  With the cameras disabled, Leon moved to the front door. He used his lock-picking set to silently unlock the door and slipped inside. The interior was tastefully decorated, with a mix of contemporary and classic styles. The faint scent of cologne lingered in the air, a reminder of Francois' meticulous nature.

  Leon found a hiding spot in a shadowy corner of the living room, waiting for Francois to arrive. He kept his breathing steady and his movements minimal, blending into the darkness.

  Hours passed, and Leon remained patient. Finally, he heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Francois had arrived. Leon tightened his grip on the gun holstered at his side, preparing for the confrontation.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The front door opened, and Francois stepped inside, unaware of the danger lurking in his home. As Francois closed the door and set his briefcase down, Leon emerged from the shadows, gun drawn and aimed at Francois from behind.

  "Don't move," Leon commanded, his voice cold and steady.

  Francois froze, his eyes wide with shock and fear. "Who are you? What do you want?"

  Leon stood directly behind Francois, the gun pressed against his back. "I need information, and you're going to give it to me."

  Francois swallowed hard, his hands trembling. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  Leon pressed the gun harder against Francois' back, his voice low and menacing. "Don't play dumb with me. I know you're the Assistant Director at the bank. You're going to give me access to the confidential accounts."

  Francois' breathing grew rapid, his fear palpable. "I... I can't do that. The system is highly secure, and I don't have the authority to access those accounts."

  Leon tightened his grip on the gun, his patience wearing thin. "You're lying. You have the access, and you're going to use it."

  Francois nodded shakily, realizing he had no other option. "Okay, okay. Just don't hurt me. I'll do it."

  Leon kept the gun trained on Francois, guiding him to his home office. The room was neatly organized, with a large desk, bookshelves, and a state-of-the-art computer. Leon instructed Francois to sit at the desk and log into the bank's system.

  Francois' hands trembled as he typed, his fear evident in every movement. Leon watched closely, ensuring there were no tricks. After a few minutes, Francois gained access to the confidential accounts.

  Leon handed Francois a piece of paper with the transaction details. "Look up this transaction and tell me who made it."

  Francois complied, his hands still shaking. He navigated through the system, locating the transaction Leon sought. "Here it is," Francois said, his voice barely above a whisper. "The transaction was made by Matthias K?nig."

  Leon nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now, transfer the information to this USB drive." He handed Francois the drive, keeping the gun trained on him.

  Francois hesitated for a moment and said, "If I do as you say, it will be stored in the bank's server and security logs. Because of this, I'll have to answer to my higher-ups, so please—"

  Before he could finish, Leon cut him off coldly. "That's your problem, not mine."

  Francois did as instructed, copying the account details and transaction history to the USB drive. Once the transfer was complete, Leon took the drive and stepped back, still keeping the gun aimed at Francois.

  "Thank you for your cooperation," Leon said coldly. "But if you ever speak of this to anyone, I will find you."

  Francois nodded frantically, his fear evident. "I won't say a word. I promise."

  Leon smirked, his eyes cold. "No, maybe I have to kill you now to avoid possible danger in the future."

  Francois' face went pale, and he started to shake uncontrollably. "Please... please don't..."

  Leon moved closer, his tone commanding. "Close your eyes."

  Francois squeezed his eyes shut, convinced his end had come. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited for the inevitable.

  Ten seconds passed, and nothing happened. Confused and trembling, Francois slowly opened his eyes and turned around to see if Leon was still there. But to his astonishment, Leon was gone.

  ---

  #### Leon's Hotel Room – Paris

  Leon returned to his hotel room, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. He set his laptop on the desk and began examining the information on the USB drive. The dim light of the desk lamp cast long shadows on the walls as he delved into the details.

  His hotel room was a stark contrast to the bank's opulence. The minimalist decor provided a sense of calm, with neutral tones and simple furnishings. A large window offered a view of the bustling city below, the lights of Paris twinkling in the night.

  Leon clicked through the files, and there it was—the name he sought. Matthias K?nig. The one who had made the transaction.

  K?nig wasn’t a global corporate giant, but he had influence. He had been locked in a long-standing power struggle with Langley Industries, always losing out on contracts, always being overshadowed. Langley’s downfall had opened opportunities for him.

  Leon clicked through various news articles and business records, piecing together K?nig's history. K?nig had built his empire through ruthless tactics, exploiting every opportunity to gain an edge. His face appeared in several photographs, always exuding confidence and ambition.

  K?nig had ordered Richard Langley’s assassination. Then, he had paid for Theodor Krause’s elimination to ensure Langley Industries collapsed completely. But at the last moment, he had backed out of paying the remaining €2.5 million.

  A fatal mistake.

  Leon’s smirk returned as he formulated his plan. K?nig had underestimated him, but that was about to change. He glanced at the tools laid out on the desk—everything he needed for the next phase of his mission. Each item was meticulously chosen and arranged, reflecting Leon's precise nature.

  Leon packed his equipment methodically. He knew what he needed to do. K?nig’s betrayal would not go unanswered.

  ---

  Leon stepped outside his hotel, the crisp Paris air greeting him as the city buzzed with life and activity. The sounds of the bustling streets filled his ears, but his mind was focused on one thing.

  But in his mind, only one thing mattered.

  K?nig had broken the rules. Leon was going to correct that.

  ---

  End of Chapter 7

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