Chapter 22 - Shadows in the Midwest
Back in Chicago, the spring rain lashed relentlessly against the reinforced glass windows of the Beacon Hill estate, turning the sprawling lawns into glistening sheets of dark emerald. Inside the library, the stone hearth crackled with a warm, amber fire that pushed back the chill of the evening storm.
Vincent sat behind his desk, reviewing the domestic security logs provided by the Swiss tactical firm. While their international expansion was accelerating at a breakneck pace, domestic stability required constant, uncompromising vigilance.
The heavy oak door swung open, and Tessa stepped inside, her expression carrying an edge of cold focus that immediately caught Vincent’s attention. She walked briskly across the Persian rug, placing a single, encrypted intelligence file on his desk.
“What is it?” Vincent asked, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked down at the black folder.
“A remnant of the old guard,” Tessa reported crisply, leaning against the edge of the desk. “One of Dominic Calvo’s former lieutenants—a low-level fixer named Raymond Gallo who managed to slip through our initial purge last autumn—has been attempting to reorganize the remnants of the street-level syndicates in Cicero. He thinks our focus on global logistics has left our domestic flank exposed.”
Vincent let out a low, rich rumble of laughter—a sound entirely devoid of humor, sharp and dangerous. “Gallo. He was a errand boy when Calvo was running numbers. He thinks because we sit in boardrooms now, we’ve forgotten how to clear out an infestation.”
“He’s planning a coordinated strike against our downtown real estate holdings tomorrow night,” Tessa continued, tapping a finger on the intelligence printout. “He wants to send a message to our commercial tenants to destabilize our leasing portfolio before the city council votes on our zoning permits.”
Vincent picked up his heavy crystal paperweight, rolling it slowly between his scarred fingers. The tactile weight grounded him. “Let’s not wait for tomorrow night, Tessa. If there’s a rat gnawing at the foundation, you don't wait for it to chew through the beams. You exterminate it immediately.”
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“I’ve already mobilized our domestic tactical security team,” Tessa said, a sharp, confident smile touching her lips. “The safehouse in Cicero is surrounded. All we need is the executive order to shut them down permanently.”
Vincent stood up, gripping his cane with absolute authority. He rose to his full height, his broad shoulders squared and imposing. “Let’s go for a drive, Ms. Morgan. It’s time to remind the city who owns the streets.”
