After that, the town does the work for you.
I sit in my office reviewing the acquisition reports with mild interest.
Eagle River is behaving exactly as expected.
My assistant scrolls through the data on the screen.
“Two additional offers accepted,” she says.
“Good,” I reply without looking up.
“Properties?”
“Bakery pending. Café under negotiation.”
Predictable.
“Increase the pressure on the clinic,” I say.
“If they lose their credit line, the board will fold.”
She makes a note.
“And the tavern?” she asks.
That makes me pause.
I finally look up at the screen.
The Last Stand.
A stubborn piece of infrastructure.
Emotionally significant.
Which makes it dangerous.
“The tavern is symbolic,” I say.
“Leave it for last.”
My assistant tilts her head slightly.
“Why?”
Because symbols matter.
Because symbols create resistance.
Because symbols also break morale when they fall.
“You don’t remove the heart,” I say calmly,
“until the body is too tired to fight.”
I mark the town’s file.
Eagle River
