The hum of the hospital room’s backup heart monitor was the only sound cutting through the sudden, suffocating silence.
Edward Vance didn't flinch under the gaze of the six tactical rifle barrels pointed at his chest. He stood perfectly rigid, his broad shoulders casting a long shadow across Grandfather Charles's bed. His hand remained slipped casually inside his trouser pocket—not on his weapon, but wrapped around the small, cold metal casing of the data-extraction drive.
"A corporate coup, Minister?" Edward asked, his deep voice smooth, almost conversational, despite the heavily armed men filling the doorway. "You’ve expanded your portfolio since the last election cycle."
The Minister of Transport smiled, a cold, practiced movement of his lips that didn't reach his sharp eyes. He step
