The Von Strauss Name

Chapter 293: The Von Strauss Name The radio report about Roberto Rodriguez did not end the Stanford meeting. It split it in two. On one side of Margaret's desk lay the seven names Catherine had not yet been allowed to call. On the other, Okafor's radio kept hissing with the words bags at the door, two adults, one young male, movement now. Diana watched Torres go still, as if the first child in his ledger had finally stood up and walked toward the edge of the page. "No contact until San Francisco secures the house," Margaret said. Catherine was still on the tablet from New York. "If they move him again, Maria and Carlos lose him again." "Which is why we do this right," Okafor said into the room, then into the radio. "Surveillance only. No lights, no door knock, no family notification. Confirm vehicle plates, flight risk, and whether the young male is Roberto before anyone breathes his name." Torres gripped the Stanford ledger with both hands. "The receiving father had a foundation account in Palo Alto. Fourth Generation used those accounts for relocation support. If the bags are at the door, someone warned them." Diana looked up. "Who still had access to Case Y-1?" Since signing the immunity form, Torres had answered every question too quickly. Now he stopped. He turned to the last section of Teacher B's notes, the part he had tried to keep behind the certificates. "Project Delta." Margaret's face changed by a fraction. "Say it clearly." "Project Delta was the hospital network expansion," Torres said. "I was Stanford. Not the whole West Coast. Teacher B recruited coordinators by region after 2012. UCLA, UCSF, University of Washington. One tertiary coordinator at Massachusetts General. We did not share family databases, but relocation alerts could pass through the project channel." Okafor muted his radio long enough to step closer. "Names." Torres shook his head. "Designations. Dr. W at UCLA. Dr. V at UCSF. Dr. U in Seattle. Dr. Z in Boston. Teacher B never wrote the full names in my packet." "But she wrote something," Diana said. Torres slid a page across the desk. The paper showed three neat columns: hospital, funding channel, placement status. Under the Stanford column, twenty-two cases. Under the network total, a number circled twice. "Five hundred plus," Diana read. No one in the room moved. The figure did not behave like a statistic. It expanded behind the seven Stanford matches, behind the fifteen blank placement lines, behind every family Catherine had promised not to call yet. "Since 2010," Torres said. "Project Delta estimated more than five hundred stolen babies across thirteen hospitals in nine states. Stanford was one room in the house." Catherine made herself speak. "The seven families?" "DNA lab gets the Stanford samples first," Margaret said. "Forty-eight-hour verification. Rodriguez on January fifteenth if San Francisco can secure Roberto safely. Park January sixteenth. Chen, Wright, Kim, Martinez, Thompson after that, one per day, with social workers and FBI protection." "Thirty-three families reunited so far," Catherine said, almost under her breath. "Seven more if we do not lose them." "We will not," Margaret said, and wrote the schedule by hand instead of letting the room become a screen. Okafor's phone vibrated. He read once, then looked at Diana. "San Francisco has plates. The car belongs to the receiving father's foundation. They are not leaving yet. Agents are holding." The room took one breath. Then Okafor opened a second file. "Meridian Trust." Diana heard Ethan's name before anyone said it. He had been tracing the money since before dawn, and the file carried his exact habit of color-coding shell layers until the lie showed its seam. Meridian Trust sat at the top as a Liechtenstein foundation registered in 2010. Under it: Meridian Holdings in the British Virgin Islands, Meridian Partners in the Cayman Islands, Meridian Asset Management in Switzerland. Four walls around one name. "Final beneficial owner is still shielded by Swiss confidentiality," Okafor said. "But CIA Geneva gave us a description from Walsh's Funder D notes. Male. Seventies. German-accented English. European aristocracy money." Margaret did not sit. "Candidate." Okafor put the photograph on the table. Baron Heinrich Von Strauss looked out from a charity gala in Zurich, silver hair cut close, one hand on a cane, the other on a donor plaque for a hospital wing. The caption named him founder of a private wealth-management firm serving European aristocratic and business families since 1975. Estimated net worth: 2.8 billion euros. Diana drew the funding file beside the photograph. "Hospital expansion, 2015." "Eighteen million," Okafor said. "Plus twelve million for agency infiltration in 2018. More than thirty million in Fourth Generation support traced to structures he controls." Catherine's voice sharpened from the tablet. "He funded hospitals that stole children?" "He funded the network," Margaret said. "Which is how men like this sleep. Strategy, not case reports. Investment, not blood." Torres flinched because he recognized the defense. Isabella, who had been silent with Elena's locket pressed into her palm, finally stepped to the table. "Did he vote on the Voss test?" she asked. Diana checked the Geneva seating list from the previous packet. "No. Funder D voted no. Teacher D and Funder B also voted no. Hunt patriarch, Vance, Chen, Sterling, and the rest carried the test." Isabella looked at the photograph again. "He said no to my theft and still paid for the machine that made it possible." "That is the pressure point," Margaret said. "He has moral conflict, European exposure risk, and money still moving through Meridian. If he cooperates, we put every teacher, funder, and coordinator on the board by name." Okafor added the last page. "Teachers A through D: Vance, Chen, Sterling, Walsh. Funders A through D: Hunt patriarch, Blackwood, Li Wei, Von Strauss. Coordinators A through C: Pemberton, Hale, Morrison." The names formed a complete circle at last. It should have felt like victory. Instead it made the system visible enough to show where it could grow new heads. "Approach date," Margaret said. "January fifteenth," Okafor answered. "Zurich residence. CIA Geneva, State Department, German legal attaché. Cooperation agreement first. Prosecution pressure if he refuses. Witness protection available, though a man with his security may think he does not need it." "He resigned from advisory role in 2020," Diana said, reading the CIA note. "Partial withdrawal. Never public. Never broke with them." Isabella touched Roberto's name on the Stanford list, then Von Strauss's photograph. One boy with bags at a door. One old man behind four layers of money. Between them, five hundred missing children and a system that called funding distance. Okafor's radio came alive again. "San Francisco to lead. Subject vehicle backed into driveway. Young male visible at front window. No departure yet." Margaret closed the Von Strauss file on top of Meridian's shell chart. "Then we have two clocks. Roberto today. Zurich on the fifteenth." Isabella lifted her eyes from the photograph. "Call Zurich." "It is not yet time to call him," Okafor said. "Not him," Isabella said. "Call the people who can put him in a room he cannot buy his way out of." Margaret reached for the secure phone. Outside the office, the first winter light struck the glass hard enough to turn everyone in the room into a reflection. "CIA Geneva first," she said. "Then State. Then Germany. Baron Von Strauss gets one choice in front of witnesses." On the tablet, Catherine whispered Roberto Rodriguez's name once, not as notice, but as a vow. The radio crackled again, and no one moved away from the table.