MOORE ENTERPRISES
Malcolm Moore's office
Malcolm was in his office when his phone rang sharply, cutting through the quiet of the afternoon. Without bothering to check the caller ID, he picked up immediately.
"Yes...," he barked, already irritated by the interruption.
The voice on the other end was shaky. It was one of his warehouse managers — Greg, if he remembered correctly.
"Sir... we have a serious problem."
Malcolm felt a knot tighten in his gut. He gripped the phone tighter. "What problem?" he demanded, his patience razor-thin. "Get to the point."
Greg swallowed audibly before replying, "Law enforcement agents just showed up at the warehouse. They... they somehow knew about the underground room."
For a second, Malcolm said nothing. His mind went blank — then instantly raced.
