The news of Elena’s banishment ripped through the underground network like wildfire. By sunset, three major Western Syndicate proxy accounts had gone dark, their assets frozen under Dante’s order.
We were back in the command war room of the West Wing. Maps of the city’s shipping routes flashed across sprawling digital monitors, showing red blips along the northern boundary line.
"They lost their inside asset when your mother was neutralized," Viktor said, tapping a touchscreen interface that displayed a satellite map of the estate's outer wall. "Our intelligence indicates the Western Syndicate's lead enforcer, Marco Vance, has taken personal command. They won't use poison this time, boss. They're going to attempt a violent breach before the commission can step in to mediate."
Dante stoo
