The chorus of ringing phones in the office suddenly fell silent without warning.
Then, the phone in the center of the desk began to ring.
Just that one.
Its monotonous, urgent ringing echoed through the office, sounding particularly jarring.
Ethan glanced at the caller ID, then looked up at Leo.
"It's Erie."
Leo wasn't surprised.
Ron Smith—the old-timer who had dared to strip at the City Hall entrance to show off his scars—had evidently rallied all the panic-stricken mayors.
The old man now held all the bargaining chips for the entire Industrial Revival Alliance.
Leo took a deep breath and picked up the receiver.
"Good morning, Ron."
Leo's voice was steady, betraying no hint of panic.
"Good, my ass."
Smith's voice was gruff, his anger practically boiling over the line.
"Leo, I don't want to hear your diplomatic bullshit. Tell me, why did Saint Claude pull out?"
