Now, his mess was too big for anyone to clean.

The federal government would strip him of his freedom, and the Maronis would strip him of his empire.

He would spend the rest of his life in a concrete cell, wondering how his quiet assistant had taken everything.

I walked toward the back door of the cabin.

It was a small wooden door that led to a narrow path down the cliff face.

It was a treacherous descent in the rain, but it avoided the road where the police cars were parked.

At the bottom of the path, a rented sedan was waiting.

I took a deep breath, feeling the cold, salty air fill my lungs.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my palm.

It was not a text.

It was an incoming call from a number I did not recognize.

The country code was international.

I hesitated, my finger hovering over the green button.

If I answered, they could trace the signal.

If I did not, I might miss the one variable I had not planned for.

I swiped the screen and pressed the phone to my ear.