"If we don't get our money today, we’re not moving! We’ll camp right here in the lobby! The Joint Investigation Task Force won’t get a single damn thing done until we’re made whole!"
The roar of the workers was a physical weight, vibrating against the glass of the Joint Task Force Hotel.
Unpaid wages. In the high-stakes world of the Lakeport Development Zone, there was no shorter fuse. These were the men who had poured the concrete for the Rose Garden Project, the ones who had worked through the night to meet the economic blueprint’s deadlines. Now, with the accounts of Lakeport Properties under audit and Chester Preston in his grave, they were terrified that their sweat and blood were going to be written off as "bad debt."
Ambrose Ward, standing on the edge of the plaza, felt his jaw t
