“You’re a good man, Stefan,” she said. “Please be careful.”
The next day—as planned—I woke up early, made love to my wife, showered and dressed and drank my coffee, and went into work. I’d given Tori an extra long kiss goodbye, promising to call her as soon as I had news.
It was impossible to concentrate on anything once I was in the office, though. Sitting at my desk responding to emails, I tensed every time I heard footsteps coming down the hall. My knuckles were white as I clutched a pen, staring blankly at a stack of papers, trying to give the illusion that I was vetting a pile of modeling contracts.
In reality, all I was doing was waiting.
The minutes dragged. The ticking of the clock seemed to echo in my brain as I struggled through a few calls that were scheduled on my calendar. Beneath my desk, my foot tapped impatiently. Nervously.
Then, at practically 10:00 am on the dot, just as I was turning the corner to enter the employee lounge, the doors to the agency burst open and swarms of black suited men poured in.
It was immediate chaos.
Through the glass walls of the lounge, I watched them infiltrate KZM. I could hear shouts of confusion, a few screams, the sounds of filing cabinets being opened, the clang of them vibrating throughout the building. Word of the raid spread like wildfire, going from office to office, and a few people began freaking out and scattering, running for exits with phones pressed to ears and keys in hands. Most of them were unaware of what was really going on, having only worked for the legitimate side of the agency’s business, but there were a few more senior employees darting back and forth through the hallways, shifty-eyed and clearly in a panic.
Meanwhile, KZM’s main receptionist stood at her desk, her dark skin gone ashy, clutching her purse to her chest and looking around in confusion.
“Mr. Zoric? What’s happening?” she asked, spotting me through the glass.
“It’s okay,” I reassured her, finally coming out of the lounge to stand near her desk as agents began storming in our direction. “Just give them whatever they ask for.”
They wouldn’t find anything in her desk or my office, and I didn’t think they’d look that hard. What they wanted was my father—the person in charge. The rest of this was a charade. Everything they needed was already in their hands.
I headed back to my office, figuring it would be best to stay out of the way. As I walked down the corridor I could see, through office doors flung wide open, executives who were rifling through the contents of their filing cabinets or screaming into their phones.
“If you don’t keep your mouth shut, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born,” I heard one agent hiss into his cellphone as he shoveled papers into his shredder.
“Youwhore,” another was shouting at someone he had on speakerphone. “If I find out you’re responsible, you can consider your career a dumpster fire!”
Part of me wanted to stop and bash their faces in, or at least drag them to the nearest federal agent and offer them up for handcuffing, but I kept going, taking solace in the knowledge that the DOD would bring all the guilty parties to justice.
None of them would be getting away scot free.
My father’s office door was closed, and suddenly my stomach dropped at the thought that he had somehow escaped—but then I was grabbed from behind and pulled into an empty office.
Turning around, I found my father and brother standing there. Luka looked confused and terrified, while my father just looked purple with rage. I kept my own expression neutral.
“What’s happening?” I asked. “Who are these guys?”
“We need to get the fuck out of here,” my father yelled, ignoring my questions.
“How? They’re everywhere,” I pointed out, my tone affected by genuine anxiety.
“Stefan’s right,” Luka said, eyes darting left and right. “We’re trapped.”
“We’ll duck out through the back of the conference room,” my father said. “There’s a staircase that goes down to the basement, what used to be an old freight shaft. Let’s move.”
As he turned away, I saw the dark flash of a gun on my father’s hip, under his suit jacket. Tori had been right to worry.
“Come on,” Luka said, tugging my arm.
I had no choice but to follow.
In the conference room, door locked securely behind us, my father was babbling again.
“There’s already a car waiting for us. It’ll take us straight to a private jet, and we’ll be in the air before they even realize we’re gone. The fucking bastards.”
He was sliding over one of the soundproof panels off the wall, revealing an ancient-looking steel door that I hadn’t even realized was there. Though the office building had been renovated into a sleek, modern style, underneath it all the original architecture was still intact.
