Elle did not bother glancing Bernard up and down. She spoke without hesitation, voice even and cold under the hard wash of the floodlights.
"You will pay the equivalent municipal tax rate on every shipment that moves through our corridors, whether the cargo is listed or not. Cash, transferred through the channels we designate, no exceptions. Live subjects are blocked. Any attempt to bring biological material that breathes, walks, or can be made to scream will be treated as a breach and answered accordingly. Substantial cargo—anything above the thresholds we already discussed—requires a full report within twelve hours of arrival. Contents, origin route, intended distribution. Incomplete reports are the same as no reports."
Bernard hesitated. The composure held, but the pause was long enough to show the calculation underneath. "Before I agree to any of that, I will need to know who 'they' is."
