C527 She Fell For It

Hanna was already asleep when her phone began ringing. Irritated by the disturbance, she reached for it without bothering to check the time. "Yes, Frank? You're disturbing my sleep. What do you want?" Frank Potter smiled as he heard her sleepy voice. "Good evening to you too, Ann. I hope I'm not interrupting anything important." "You called me in the middle of the night. What do you think you're interrupting?" Frank chuckled. "All right, I'll get straight to the point. I have a problem." Hanna sat up slightly, her irritation giving way to suspicion. "What kind of problem?" "The shipment you gave me sold out much faster than I expected. The people I promised it to are now demanding more, and they're not happy with me." Hanna rubbed her forehead. "And how is that my problem, Frank?" "Because you're the one who supplied me, and I'm the one who promised them the goods. You know how this business works. When you make a promise in the drug trade, you have to keep it. Otherwise, people stop trusting you, and once they stop trusting you, you're as good as dead."

Hanna let out a tired sigh. "Then you should have thought about that before making promises you couldn't keep." Frank's smile faded for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "I'm not calling to argue with you, Ann. I'm calling because I believe we can solve this problem together." "Then tell me what you want." "I'm looking for at least fifteen kilos. If you have that amount available, I'm willing to pay double the usual price." Hanna fell silent. Fifteen kilos was a considerable quantity, but the offer was tempting. More importantly, Frank's desperation suggested that he had customers willing to pay a substantial amount for the shipment. She had spent enough time rebuilding the Harris Cartel to understand that opportunities like this could help strengthen her position. However, she had also learned that desperation often made people unpredictable. "Fifteen kilos," she repeated. "And you're willing to pay double?" "Every penny." Hanna smiled. "Fortunately for you, I have fifteen kilos available." Frank's face brightened. "Excellent! Then we can settle this tomorrow. I'll arrange everything at my warehouse, and you can bring the shipment there." "That won't be a problem." Frank leaned back in his chair, but before Hanna could end the call, he spoke again. "There's something else I'd like us to discuss." Hanna's smile disappeared. "What now?" "Please don't misunderstand me, Ann. I value our business relationship, but I don't like doing business with people I don't understand." "And what exactly don't you understand about me?"

Frank paused, choosing his words carefully. "Last time, I expected you to deliver the shipment personally. Instead, you sent your subordinates. I understand that you have people working for you, but we're building a business relationship here. I need to know the person I'm dealing with." Hanna narrowed her eyes. "You received your shipment, didn't you? Was there a problem with the people I sent?" "No. The delivery was fine, and I have no complaints about the quality. But that's not the point." Frank's tone became more serious. "If we're going to continue doing business, I need to know who I'm dealing with. I don't want every transaction to involve intermediaries. I want to meet you personally." Hanna remained quiet. She had deliberately avoided meeting Frank face-to-face. Although he appeared useful, she didn't trust him enough to reveal her identity without a compelling reason. Her position in the cartel had taken considerable effort to rebuild, and she wasn't about to jeopardize it because one of her associates wanted a personal meeting. However, refusing might raise questions. Besides, Frank was offering double the price for a shipment she already had available. She couldn't afford to turn away a profitable opportunity without a good reason. "Fine," she finally replied. "I'll deliver it myself." Frank struggled to conceal his satisfaction. "That's what I wanted to hear." "How much did you say you needed?" "Fifteen kilos." "Then meet me at the warehouse tomorrow. I'll make the necessary arrangements and ensure everything is ready." "Perfect. I'll be expecting you." Hanna gave a brief acknowledgment before ending the call.

She placed her phone on the bedside table and stared at the ceiling for a moment. Frank Potter was becoming increasingly demanding, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. If he wanted to invest more money in the business, she could use that money to strengthen the cartel's operations. Still, she couldn't ignore the possibility that he was testing her. She had survived long enough to know that trust was a luxury she couldn't afford. For now, she would honour the arrangement, but she would make sure she was prepared for anything that might happen at the warehouse. Across the city, Frank Potter was thinking about the same meeting for an entirely different reason. He picked up his phone again and called his grandfather. The Mayor answered after a few rings. "Frank? What is it? Do you realize what time it is?" Frank smiled. "Grandpa, I have good news. Ann Smith agreed to deliver the next shipment personally." There was a brief silence on the other end. "Are you sure?" "Absolutely. I just spoke to her. She has fifteen kilos available, and she's agreed to meet me at the warehouse tomorrow." The Mayor laughed softly. "So soon? I thought it would take longer to convince her." Frank shook his head. "She was reluctant at first, but I explained that I don't like doing business with people I don't know. Eventually, she agreed." "And you believe she'll actually show up?" "Yes, Grandpa. She's expecting to make a profitable sale, and I'm paying double the usual price. Unless something changes, I don't see why she wouldn't come."

The Mayor became quiet for a moment. For weeks, Ann Smith had remained a mystery. She was rebuilding the Harris Cartel alongside Charlie Kinlore, yet neither Frank nor the people around him had managed to establish her true identity. Now, for the first time, they had an opportunity to see her in person. The Mayor wasn't about to let it slip away. "Good work, Frank." Frank smiled. "Now that she's agreed to come, what do we do? We can't allow her to leave that warehouse alive." The Mayor chuckled. "I have an idea. We don't need to do everything ourselves. Remember the group that killed Willy Harris?" "Of course." "I can arrange for information about tomorrow's meeting to reach them. If they discover where Ann Smith will be, they'll have an opportunity to deal with her." Frank considered the plan. "You want them to kill her?" "If they get the opportunity, yes. But we need to be careful. We don't know how much protection she has or how many people she'll bring with her." Frank nodded. "That's why I want to prepare a backup plan. If the people you send fail, I don't want the entire operation to collapse." "That's sensible," the Mayor replied. "Prepare your people, but don't do anything that could compromise us. The last thing we need is for this operation to attract unnecessary attention." Frank's expression became serious. "Understood. I'll make sure everything is ready." "Good. I'll handle the rest." The call ended.

Frank immediately began considering the arrangements for the following evening. He didn't know how Ann would arrive, or how many people would accompany her. That uncertainty made the meeting dangerous, but he was determined not to waste the opportunity. If Ann Smith was eliminated, he believed the cartel's operations would be disrupted, and he would no longer have to deal with an associate whose identity remained a mystery. However, he wasn't willing to rely entirely on his grandfather's plan. He would have his own people ready. On the other side. The Mayor didn't waste any time after speaking to Frank. He reached for his phone and called Mark Mooney. At the Mooney residence, Mark was already asleep. After the long day, he had finally managed to put aside his concerns about his police work and the growing threats against Alicia. The ringing of his phone dragged him out of his sleep. He reached for it, glanced at the screen, and frowned when he saw the Mayor's name. For a moment, he considered letting it ring. However, knowing that the Mayor rarely called him without a reason, he answered. "Hello, Mr Litchfield." "Mr Mooney, I believe I've just made things easier for your group." Mark sat up in bed. "What do you mean?" "I have information that may be useful to your Lions. Tomorrow evening, at 17:00, Ann Smith will be at a warehouse on XXX Street. Make sure you pass that information to your daughter. If the Lions want to find her, that's where they should go." Mark's eyes narrowed. "Ann Smith?" "Yes. The woman I asked your daughter to investigate."

Mark remained silent for a moment, trying to understand how the Mayor had obtained such precise information. "Mr Litchfield, how do you know she'll be there? You even know the specific time." The Mayor smiled. "Let's just say I have my sources. The important thing is that the information is reliable enough for your daughter to investigate." Mark wasn't satisfied with that answer. The Mayor had already asked the Lions to discover Ann Smith's identity, and now he was providing a specific location and time where they could find her. It was convenient, perhaps too convenient. Mark leaned back against the headboard. "There's something else I don't understand. If you know where this woman will be, why can't we, the police handle the operation?" The Mayor sighed as though the question had been expected. "Mr Mooney, think carefully before you rush into anything. What crime are you going to charge her with? What evidence do you have proving that she's responsible for rebuilding the Harris Cartel?" Mark said nothing. The Mayor continued. "You cannot simply arrest someone because you suspect she's involved in criminal activity. If the police move against her without sufficient evidence, the operation could fail, and she might escape before you discover anything useful." "Then what exactly do you expect us to do?" Mark asked. "Let your daughter take care of it."

Mark frowned. "You want the Lions to approach her instead of the police?" "I want your daughter to use her judgment. She's already investigating the cartel, and this opportunity may help her discover Ann Smith's identity. There's no need to complicate matters by involving the entire police department." Mark considered the answer. The Mayor's reasoning wasn't entirely unreasonable. If they approached Ann Smith without sufficient evidence, they might alert her to the investigation and make it harder to uncover the truth. But something about the way the Mayor was handling the situation continued to bother him. He was providing the Lions with information that could lead them directly to their target, yet he seemed reluctant to involve the police. Mark decided to ask the question that had been on his mind since the conversation began. "Mr Litchfield, are you ordering my daughter to kill her?" The Mayor laughed. "You're getting ahead of yourself, Mr Mooney. I haven't given any kill order." Mark waited for him to continue. "If an opportunity presents itself, your daughter can decide how to handle it. Otherwise, simply seeing Ann Smith in person should help her establish who she is. The Lions can observe her, gather information, and investigate further." Mark's expression remained serious. "And if she turns out to be more dangerous than we expect?" "Then your daughter will have to make the appropriate decision. I trust her judgment."

The answer did little to reassure Mark. He had worked with the Mayor long enough to recognize that the man rarely spoke without considering the consequences of his words. Yet, on this occasion, he seemed to be leaving everything deliberately vague. There was no direct order to arrest Ann Smith. No instruction to eliminate her. Just a meeting location, a specific time, and a suggestion that the Lions should take care of the matter themselves. Mark wondered whether the Mayor genuinely wanted them to investigate Ann Smith or whether he had another reason for keeping the police away. "Very well, Mr Litchfield," he finally replied. "I'll pass the information to the Lions." "Excellent. Keep me informed about any developments." The Mayor ended the call. Mark lowered his phone and remained seated in the darkness. He could no longer dismiss the possibility that the Mayor was hiding something. His earlier suspicions about Charlie Kinlore had already raised questions, and now this unexpected information about Ann Smith had added another layer to the mystery. If the Mayor knew where Ann Smith would be tomorrow evening, how had he obtained that information? And why was he so determined to make sure the Lions were the ones who found her? Mark rubbed his face, suddenly feeling more awake than he had been before the call. He needed to speak to Alicia. But he would not tell her to walk into the warehouse blindly. Before the Lions approached Ann Smith, they would need to examine the information, consider the risks, and decide how to proceed. The Mayor might believe he had made their investigation easier. Mark wasn't convinced.