"You’re discussing my removal because you think I’m useless," I say, tapping the screen. "You think I’m a warm body in Konstantin’s bed."
I look up at Sokolov, holding his gaze.
"Let me educate you."
I swipe the screen, bringing up the live satellite feed of the harbor. TheLady Anastasiasits at the main dock, massive, smoke rising from her stacks. She’s fully loaded, sitting low in the water.
"That ship," I say clearly, "is carrying twenty units of heavy mining machinery. It’s the only ship in the fleet with the deep-draft clearance to enter the river delta."
"We know the plan," Sokolov grunts. "Launch it."
"I can't," I say coldly. "And neither can you."
I tap the screen. A red alert box pops up.
STATUS: PORT AUTHORITY HOLD. BIOMETRIC CLEARANCE REQUIRED.
"The Port Authority has a digital lock on the gates," I explain. "My father installed it to prevent theft. No ship of this tonnage leaves the harbor without a Live Biometric Signal from me, the Director of Operations."
"Then give the signal," Sokolov demands.
"Why should I?" I ask, leaning back. "You called me a traitor. You suggested throwing me in a cell."
"The tide turns in ten minutes!" one of the other men yells, glancing at his watch. "If that ship doesn't leave now, it misses the window. The Venezuelan Cartel will not wait for us. If the drills don't arrive on time, the deal is dead."
"Exactly," I say. "If that ship stays here, your drills rust on the dock. You get no weapons. No war. You get slaughtered by the Italians."
I lift the tablet so they can all see the red flashing prompt.
AWAITING DIRECTOR AUTHORIZATION.
"Konstantin can threaten me, you can insult me, you can drag me to a cell... but what you can’t do is move that ship one inch without my thumb on this glass."
I look at Sokolov. He’s pale. He realizes the power in the room doesn't belong to the men with the guns. It belongs to the woman who controls the gate.
"You want to remove me?" I challenge. "Go ahead. But if I leave this table, theLady Anastasiastays at the dock. Forever."
Sokolov stares at me. His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. He looks at the screen, then at the clock.
8:59 PM.
His focus shifts to Konstantin.
Konstantin is leaning in his chair far from worried. He’s proud. He enjoys watching me hold a knife to their throats.
Sokolov looks back at me. The arrogance drains out of his face.
"Launch the ship," Sokolov whispers. It isn't a command anymore. It’s a plea.
I wait, letting the silence stretch. Letting them sweat.
"Mrs. Morozov," Sokolov adds, choking on the name. "Please."
I smile. "Very well."
I press my thumb to the scanner.
SCANNING...
