Vance's voice roared from the phone's receiver, a cascade of furious curses and threats. "You listen to me, you pathetic little worm! You will be ruined! You will spend the rest of your—"
"I'm sorry, good night," Brown interrupted, his throat tight with dry nerves, preventing him from saying anything further that might compromise himself. He hung up the phone.
The private dining room in the 'Aurelian' plunged into a shocked, terrified silence as the dial tone cut the connection.
Ethan slowly lowered the rifle, the metal clicking softly. He reached out and condescendingly patted Director Brown on the head, as one would a dog.
"Good boy, good boy," Ethan said, his voice mocking.
"Now," Ethan continued, stepping back and looking down at the utterly defeated man. "Do you understand which side is the winner now?"
Director Brown slowly shook his head, looking around at the armed guards and the unwavering face of Director Hayes.
