Chapter 10 - The True Analyst
"Grant Holloway, you are under arrest for federal racketeering, wire fraud, and money laundering," the lead tactical agent announced, stepping forward and forcefully grabbing the billionaire's heavily tattooed wrists.
"No! Get your hands off me! I'm a billionaire!" Grant screamed, his arrogant composure completely shattered as the cold steel handcuffs clicked tightly over his expensive gold watch. He thrashed and humiliated himself in front of the elite crowd as the agents violently dragged him away from the corner table.
Fiona watched him go, her expression completely calm. She didn't gloat. She didn't smile. She simply watched the monster who had terrorized the financial district finally get dragged into the light.
The restaurant fell silent, save for the soft jazz music still playing from the speakers.
Fiona reached behind her neck, untying the white apron and slipping it off her waist. She tossed it casually onto the white tablecloth, right next to Grant's abandoned, half-empty crystal champagne glass.
She pulled her cracked smartphone from her pocket one last time, sending a single, encrypted text message to her director: Checkmate. Bring the team home.
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She picked up her black serving tray, turned her back on the empty table, and walked gracefully toward the elevator, leaving the ruined empire of Grant Holloway completely in ashes behind her.
If you were Fiona, would you have been terrified when the mafia boss stepped into your personal space, or did knowing you had the ultimate trap set make you feel invincible?
