Chapter 46 Game On

• The living room smelled faintly of cigar smoke and brandy. Horace paced across the rug, shoulders stiff, jaw tight. His friend Don sat heavy in an armchair, watching him with the calm patience of a man who had seen Horace’s temper burn before.
• “Can you believe it?” Horace snapped, his hand slapping the table for emphasis. “My men bled, my shipment delayed, risked, my safe house almost sniffed out, and those council fools just told me to wait. Wait for an investigation. Wait for their word. Like I’m some beggar on their payroll!”
• Don leaned forward, clasping his thick fingers together. “Horace, calm your blood. You’re alive, your men are patching up. It could’ve been worse. At least the product got through.”