Ambrose Ward watched the three executives from the corner of his eye as they were ushered toward the waiting vehicles. He had lived long enough in the corridors of power to recognize the breed; Grant Archer, Darren Drake, and Peter Reed were not merely incompetent administrators. They were "two-faced" players—men who kept their boots clean while their hands were submerged in the muck. There wasn't a "light-oil lamp" among them; every one of them likely had a "tail" of corruption a mile long.
Leaving them at the Lakeport Properties Ltd. headquarters would be a strategic blunder. They were the gatekeepers of the data, the whispers in the ears of the subordinates, and the architects of the very fog the Joint Investigation Task Force was trying to pierce. If he left them here, they would spen
