Adrian did not flinch.

“Answer it, Caleb,” Adrian said.

Caleb reached into his heavy coat with trembling fingers.

He pulled out the phone, his hand shaking so hard the screen cast a flickering blue light across his face.

He pressed the button and held the device to his ear.

He did not say a word.

He just listened, his mouth slightly open, his chest heaving under his coat.

I could hear a faint, buzzy voice from the receiver.

After three seconds, the call disconnected.

The phone slid from Caleb’s fingers and cracked against the wet gravel of the driveway.

“They canceled the accounts,” Caleb whispered.

His voice was barely louder than the idling engines of the three SUVs.

“They took everything,” he said, looking at his boots.

The doors of the lead SUV opened with a heavy, synchronized thud.

Four men in dark gray tactical gear stepped out onto the wet mud.

Their boots crunched on the stone as they approached the gravel lot.

The leader of the cleanup crew had a thick, pale scar across his left cheek.

He walked past the mercenaries without looking at them.