After a long thought, Silver pulled her phone from her bag and called Lorenzo. The call went straight to voicemail. She frowned and tried again. Same result. She sighed, tossing the phone onto her desk before turning on her computer to continue her work.
---
ABANDONED WAREHOUSE - ALASKA
Lorenzo sat on a rusted metal chair, his fingers drumming against his thigh in slow, measured taps. Behind him, four of his most trusted men stood, their hands resting on their weapons, their gazes sharp. Around them, the dimly lit warehouse smelled of rust, gasoline, and damp wood. The only light came from a few overhead bulbs, flickering slightly, casting long shadows across the cold concrete floor.
Several men lay sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain, their faces bloodied from the brutal beating they had received. A few more knelt, their hands bound behind their backs, their expressions a mixture of fear and defiance.
