The man I don’t recognize coughs into his hand.
“You’ve stalled transit,” the Brit says bluntly. “It seems this deal can’t go ahead without your involvement. Clearance at the port has already been delayed. Our shipment is sitting idle. If it’s delayed for much longer, it will attract the attention of authorities and none of us want that.”
“Ourshipment?” I say, mildly.
He breathes out a tense breath. “Theshipment.”
I walk further into the lobby, watching as they adjust their positions in accordance with the approaching threat. If I didn’t know already, I’d be able to tell right now which ones are hardened criminals and which ones are pretending.
“The goods are currently secured in a port under my operational jurisdiction,” I say. “Which means they move when I authorize them. Not before.”
“And if you don’t?” the Brit asks.
I stop and face him. “Then they don’t move at all.”
His jaw tightens. “You are aware of the financial implications.”
“I am aware of the human implications,” I reply. “Which, in my opinion, outweigh the financial ones considerably.”
The Floridian near the bar shifts slightly and I notice his hand drifting too close to his jacket.
I don’t even look at him when I speak.
“If you wrap your hand around that weapon, you won’t live to take another breath.”
He freezes.
Miles exhales sharply. “This was a coordinated agreement. You don’t get to unilaterally dismantle it because the orchestrator was compromised.”
“I’m not dismantling it,” I correct. “I’m redirecting it.”
His attention sharpens immediately.
“To where?” he asks.
“To a dead end,” I reply.
A wave of realization flows through the room and I can almost feel the heckles on these men rising. That wasn’t the answer they’d hoped for. I’ve just told them I’m squashing the deal—it’s never going to happen. Whatever time, money and ego they’ve invested in this deal is about to evaporate like a hot spring on a winter’s day.
“You’re burning the deal?” the Brit grits out.
I turn to him. “I’m neutralizing it.”
“What about the buyers?” he says, his voice erring on the edge of desperation. “If they don’t get what they’ve paid for, they’ll come after us. They’ll come after you.”
“So give them their money back.”
The Floridian steps forward. “We can’t do that.”
“Why?” I frown. “Don’t tell me you spent it already.”
His face pales so I take that as a yes.
“We’ll tell them it was you,” Todd says, in a slightly shaky voice.
“In that case, we’ll deliver them the goods, in the terribly unusable state they are currently in. Then, they’ll be after you.”
“What?” he asks.
