Chapter 7 - The Arrest of Brendan
The final blow to the Morrison empire arrived on Thursday afternoon. Brendan had been hiding out in a cheap, low-rent motel on the outskirts of the city, his corporate accounts frozen, his luxury sports car repossessed by the dealership, and his phone ringing off the hook with calls from collection agencies.
He had spent the morning drinking cheap whiskey, his mind completely broken by the sudden, catastrophic reversal of his fortunes.
At 4:00 PM, the door of his motel room was kicked in by six federal marshals, accompanied by Marcus Vance and two investigators from the Internal Revenue Service.
"Brendan Morrison," the lead marshal announced, drawing a weapon. "You are under arrest for federal wire fraud, embezzlement of corporate funds, and grand larceny."
Brendan didn't even try to run. He sat on the edge of the stained mattress, looking up at Marcus with a hollow, dead expression. "Did she send you to watch this? To laugh at me?"
Marcus stepped into the room, his expression completely neutral as the marshals pulled Brendan to his feet and cuffed his hands behind his back.
"The Chairwoman does not have time to watch you, Brendan," Marcus said coldly. "She is currently preparing for her Q4 earnings call. I am here only to ensure that the proprietary Sovereign Group data on your personal laptop is safely recovered and wiped from your possession."
"Tell her I’m sorry," Brendan sobbed as he was dragged out into the gravel parking lot, his bare feet scraping against the asphalt. "Tell her I didn't know! I love her, Marcus! She’s carrying my daughter!"
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Marcus paused at the door of the transport vehicle, looking down at the broken man who had once thought he could rule the city by stepping on the woman who built it.
"She knows you're sorry, Brendan," Marcus said quietly. "But as the Chairwoman always says... the market doesn't care about apologies. It only cares about results."
