The phone rang three times before Detective Elias Grant answered.
"Abigail? What is wrong?"
"Everything," I said, watching the black cars position themselves at both ends of the street. "The council just made their move. I need backup, and I need it now."
"Where are you?"
"St. Augustine Church, downtown. They have us surrounded."
I could hear him barking orders to someone in the background. "Hold tight. We are five minutes out."
But five minutes felt like five hours when thirty women were depending on me to keep them alive.
"Donna Abigail," Lucia whispered from behind the car. "What do we do?"
Before I could answer, one of the black cars opened its door. A man in an expensive suit stepped out, his hands visible but his posture radiating threat.
"Miss Romano," he called across the
