he grille of my car. For a moment, he looked

the new post office jeep? Don't try to scare me with some fake government nonsense. I know people, real people in

bably just some low-level clerk who stole a company car. We

t was a common mistake for people who had nev

in. I dialed a number from memory, a direct line t

instantly. "

sional, all business. There w

and calm. "Project Red Flag has been compromised. A minor collis

" Control' s voice com

lars for damages to their vehicle," I explained. "And they are r

unged forward. He snatched the phone

ns. I don't know what little government agency you think you work for, but I am the CEO of Vance Industries, and my father is Senator Vance. I suggest you tell your little clerk to p

. For a full five seconds, nothing. I could almost feel

and professional. It was dangerously soft, a low, r

ned a protected field agent. Second, you threatened a matter of national security. And third, you

tly. This was not the r

act, let's make it a billion. A billion dollars for the trouble you have caused Agent Chen. A billion dollars for the damage to a piece of technol

ne wen

hand, his mouth hanging slightly

little shaken. "He's bluffing, L

ered, handing the phone back to

pocket. "He is," I said simply. "You

here! I want to see this billion dollars he's talking about!" He was shouting now, trying to project a confidenc

I said with

a low rumble filled the air. It grew louder and louder, a

corner ca

rs or polic

rounding the scene. They were flanked by four black SUVs with tinted windows. Doors opened in unison, and a dozen men in sharp black suits and earp

ma, were now silent, their phones lowered, t

the lead armored

was about