The punch came so fast I never even saw Derek Lawson move. One second I was standing beside booth six holding a glass coffee pot, and the next my vision exploded white, my body hit the diner floor, and somewhere above me I heard the man who had just knocked me unconscious laughing.

By three in the morning, two more men had arrived at the back office of Calder’s Diner.

One was Tommy 'The Barber' Vane, a sharp-faced man who managed Vincent’s distribution networks in Red Hook. The other was a quiet woman in her mid-forties named Evelyn Vance, a former federal prosecutor who now worked exclusively as chief legal counsel for Vincent’s holding companies.

Evelyn reviewed the decrypted files on the laptop screen while drinking black tea from a paper cup.

“This is airtight,” Evelyn said, her voice dry and analytical. “These manifests detail systematic bribery across four county sheriff departments, direct payoffs to the Albany District Attorney’s Chief Investigator, and illegal weapons smuggling through the St. Lawrence Seaway.”

“And Raymond Fletcher?” Vincent asked.

“Fletcher’s signature is on every wire transfer over fifty thousand dollars,” Evelyn replied, turning the screen to face Vincent. “If these files reach the Southern District Federal Court, Raymond Fletcher isn't just going to prison. The Callahan family will execute him themselves to stop him from talking.”

Derek Lawson whimpered from his chair in the corner. “Listen to me! If Raymond finds out I was caught, he’ll send guys down here! He’s crazy!”

Vincent didn't even turn his head toward Derek. “Paul, remove Mr. Lawson’s shoes.”

Derek froze. “What? Why? What are you doing?!”

“You struck a woman in my establishment,” Vincent said coldly. “You damaged my property, terrorized my staff, and attempted to kidnap my employee to sell her to a corrupt cop.”

Vincent stood up, walking slowly around the desk until he was standing directly over Derek.

“You are going to call Raymond Fletcher right now,” Vincent ordered. “You are going to tell him that you have Clara locked in a warehouse in Bay Ridge. You will tell him to bring one hundred thousand dollars in cash and come down personally to collect her.”

Derek stammered, his eyes darting toward the door. “He won't come alone! He’ll bring six heavy hitters from Albany!”