Gustavo had been pacing back and forth in John's office at Johnson's cabin downtown for thirty minutes. Neither man had spoken a word as the news played on in the background like a broken record.
Gustavo had only one job, though it could be split in two: maintain order and protect the Merchant. Yet here he was, facing the worst case in the history of the Johnsons.
"Can you stop that?" John finally said, growing tired of watching the human pendulum before him.
Gustavo halted and turned to face John, his movements reminiscent of a horror movie villain. His face, usually marked by wit, was now filled with rage. "Stop?" he repeated, his tone deadly serious. "The Merchant’s car exploded—right here, on our turf. Don’t you see the gravity of this for the entire Johnson dynasty?"
"Well, pacing
