Raegan led me away from the open floor into the corner conference room.
Floor-to-ceiling glass overlooked the humid sprawl of Metro Manila.
Far below, headlights crawled along the avenues like glowing beetles.
Inside, the climate control kept the room at a crisp sixty-eight degrees.
I took the head of the dark mahogany table. Raegan pulled out a leather chair to my right, setting down a thick black binder embossed with the Immortal crest.
He poured two cups of steaming local mountain coffee from a silver carafe on the sideboard, sliding one across the table toward me.
"Sit," I said, taking a sip.
He sat, resting his forearms on the table. Despite the grueling hours he kept, his charcoal suit was immaculate.
"Explain the Tepper dynamic," I said, gesturing toward the digital map glowing on the wall. "Why does he think he can muscle us?"
