Chapter 5 - The War in ChicagoWhen our private jet touched down at O'Hare International Airport at 6:00 PM, the rain over Chicago was falling in heavy, icy sheets.
Four black armored SUVs met us on the tarmac, their headlights flashing against the dark asphalt as six armed security officers established a tight perimeter around the aircraft stairs.
Marco, Graham’s chief of private security, stepped up to the vehicle door as we settled into the plush rear cabin of the lead SUV.
"Boss," Marco reported, his tone tight and grim. "Richard didn't go to his estate after leaving Las Vegas. He convened an emergency meeting with the heads of the Vance-Moretti logistics cartel at a private club in River North twenty minutes ago."
Graham’s gray eyes narrowed into dark flint. "He's trying to liquidate the secondary offshore accounts before the federal freeze order goes into effect at midnight."
"He also hired a team of private contractors," Marco added, looking at me nervously through the rearview mirror. "They were spotted near Mrs. Reed's former apartment in Lincoln Park an hour ago."
Graham's broad frame locked into stone. He reached out, wrapping his large, warm hand around mine, pulling me flush against his side in the leather seat.
"Tell the West Side detail to secure her old apartment," Graham commanded coldly. "And tell our legal team to execute the federal asset seizure order immediately."
I looked at Graham, my mind moving at lightning speed through the corporate and legal structures of the firm.
"He's going to use the South Side terminal, Graham," I stated cleanly.
Graham turned his head, looking at me in surprise. "The South Side terminal?"
"The South Side terminal's automated customs registry was never updated after the 2021 restructuring," I explained, pulling up the digital infrastructure map on my tablet. "It's the only port facility in the tri-state area that can clear heavy cargo containers without a dual-executive digital key. If Richard is trying to move forty million dollars in bearer bonds out of the state before midnight... that's where he's going."
Graham stared at me—taking in my sharp, brilliant intellect, my total lack of fear, and the unshakeable resolve shining in my eyes.
May you like
A slow, dangerous smile touched his lips.
"Call the federal marshals, Marco," Graham ordered cleanly. "We're going to the South Side terminal."
Related Stories
