Chapter 30 - The Shadow Across the River
A sharp, vibrating chime echoed through the empty ballroom.
It wasn't coming from my phone. Nor was it coming from David’s radio.
The sound was coming from inside the hollow pedestal of the center centerpiece on Table One.
David’s hand went immediately to his sidearm. He gestured for me to step behind him as he carefully approached the gilded table. With gloved hands, he lifted the floral centerpiece aside.
Hidden beneath the silk runner was a single, sleek, disposable satellite phone. Its screen was glowing with an encrypted incoming call from an unlisted international satellite frequency.
*CALLER UNKNOWN — PRIORITY ZERO.*
"Don't touch it, David," I whispered, an icy dread suddenly trickling down the back of my neck. "It could be a trap."
"No," David muttered, examining the casing. "It’s not wired to an explosive. It’s an open line."
He pressed the speakerphone button and set it gently in the center of the table.
The call connected.
For three long seconds, there was only the sound of gentle, rhythmic waves crashing against a hull, followed by the clinking of ice against a crystal glass.
Then, a voice spoke. It was deep, cultured, impossibly calm—and entirely unfamiliar.
"Congratulations on surviving the night, Sarah," the man said smoothly. "Arthur was always an emotional amateur. I anticipated his failure the moment he brought mercenaries into a simple boardroom transaction."
My heart stopped. "Who are you?"
A low, chilling chuckle resonated through the small speaker.
"I am the man who funded your father's first fleet thirty years ago. I am the man who bought the judges, the shipping lanes, and the very ground you are standing on. Julian and your foolish brother were merely the actors I hired to manage the stage while I remained in the wings."
"They're in federal custody," I said, forcing steel into my voice despite the terror clawing at my throat. "The feds have every ledger. Your empire is over."
"My dear girl," the man replied with genuine amusement, "what you gave the authorities was only the ledger of the shell company. The crumbs from the banquet. The true charter of the Cumberland Syndicate has never been written on paper. It lives in the ships currently docking in the Gulf."
The voice paused, and the sound of someone lighting a cigar crackled over the line.
"Enjoy your little victory, Sarah. Hug your sweet boy tightly tonight. Because next week, the real owners of Nashville are coming home... and unlike your brother, I don't leave survivors."
The line abruptly went dead with a cold, hollow click.
The screen of the satellite phone flashed red once, then melted from the inside out in a silent hiss of chemical self-destruction, leaving only a thin wisp of acrid smoke rising from the shattered ruins of Table One.
May you like
David stared at the ruined phone, his face grimmer than I had ever seen it.
I looked down at the charred marble table, my hands trembling. The war wasn't over. It had only just begun.
