The President of the United States had stopped answering his office phone. Now his private one wouldn't stop ringing.
"Mr. President, she is in my building."
He recognized the voice before he looked at the name. The man had helped pay for his campaign.
"Where are you?"
"Upstairs. Security told us to lock the conference room. We can hear her downstairs."
The President covered the microphone and looked at his security adviser.
"Another address."
The adviser held out his hand for the details while the caller kept speaking.
"My people have permits for everything in that building. Everything. If she has some kind of complaint, my lawyers can meet with hers. This is completely unacceptable."
Vespera truly wasn't kidding; be they random gangsters, human traffickers, or legal businesses, Vespera did not care. She would visit every address with the potential to lead to the organization that dared hurt her children, and she would do it her way.
