The chairman's office on the top floor of the Morganfield Building.
The massive floor-to-ceiling windows reflected the Pittsburgh nightscape, but Douglas Morganfield was in no mood to appreciate it.
He stood behind his expansive desk, a phone receiver in his hand.
On the other end of the line, a subordinate was reporting on the situation developing on the highway.
Those independent drivers, those owner-operators who were normally as disorganized as loose sand, had actually answered the call. They had formed a massive convoy and were now heading toward Pittsburgh along the interstate.
"A bunch of rabble."
Morganfield scoffed.
He hung up on his subordinate and, without missing a beat, immediately dialed another number.
It was the private line of the Pennsylvania State Police Commissioner.
"It's me, Douglas."
Morganfield's voice was calm, yet it carried an undeniable tone of command.
"The interchange of I-279 and I-79. It's the chokepoint for anyone entering Pittsburgh."
