Chapter 8 - The Viper's Venom
While Elara and Cassian unearthed the digital graveyard in the penthouse, Silas Mercer was pacing the floor of a smoke-filled warehouse across town.
Silas was a man who hated waiting. He had spent ten years standing in Cassian Thorne’s shadow, smiling while he secretly sharpened a knife for his boss's back.
Gideon stood by the metal doors, looking nervous.
"What do you mean, you can't find the body?" Silas hissed, hurling a whiskey glass against the brick wall.
"We went back to the railyard, Mr. Mercer," Gideon stammered. "The girl is gone. The homeless guy said a black sedan picked her up."
Silas froze. The color drained from his face. "A black sedan? Cassian."
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Silas ran a hand over his slicked-back hair, his mind racing. If Cassian had the bartender, it was only a matter of time before she talked. She had seen the Panama printouts. She was a liability that threatened a twenty-two-million-dollar coup.
"We have to accelerate the timeline," Silas ordered, his eyes wide with manic energy. "Call the mercenaries. We don't wait for the end of the month. We hit Cassian tonight at the charity gala. We kill the boss, and we put a bullet in that bartender's head."
