Chapter 168

• GUSTAVO
• The command room sat deep in the mansion basement. No windows. Dim lights. Rows of monitors glowed blue. I stood in the center, arms crossed, watching the feeds. Harlan’s estate filled three screens. Quiet house. One light on in the study. The assassin’s voice came through the encrypted earpiece, clipped and calm.
• “Poison delivered four hours ago,” he said. “Bottle of his favorite scotch. He poured at nine-fifteen. Drank alone. Routine. No visitors. No staff after eight.”