Chapter 3: The Coffee Club
Chapter 3: The Coffee Club
An hour later, there was a sharp, rhythmic knock on the diner’s back door. Three knocks, a pause, then two more. I unlocked the deadbolt.
In walked Arthur, Marcus, and Elias. To the neighborhood, they were just three harmless old men who spent every morning arguing over crossword puzzles in Booth Four. In reality, Arthur was a retired signals intelligence analyst for the NSA; Marcus was a former Force Recon sniper who left the military after a covert op gone wrong; and Elias was the best cleaner the Chicago syndicate had ever seen.
"You called on the secure line, Evie," Arthur said, adjusting his thick spectacles. His eyes darted to the gun holstered at my hip. "It’s been twenty years."
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"The Holloways," I said simply. "They put their hands on Hannah. Grant gave me seventy-two hours to bring her back on her knees."
Marcus smiled, a chilling, jagged expression that reached his cold, dead eyes. "Seventy-two hours is a lot of time to dismantle a grocery empire. Where do we start?"
