Ethan, Jason, and Cassandra were just finishing the elaborate breakfast—a rare moment of peace and domesticity—when Ethan's phone vibrated on the marble countertop. He glanced at the screen: Santiago.
Ethan wiped his mouth with a linen napkin and answered. "What is it, Santiago?"
"Boss, I'm at the gate of your place right now," Santiago's voice was tight with frustration. "I showed them the card, just like you told me, but they won't let us through. They said we need authorization."
Ethan frowned, the remnants of his good mood dissipating instantly. "Pass them to me."
A moment of static, and then a smooth, modulated voice came over the line—the voice of authority.
"Good morning, Mr. Blake. Agent Alpha speaking."
"Alpha," Ethan said, his voice instantly cold. "Tell your men to let Santiago and his associates through. They are here on my business."
