Amira Salgado was standing with her back straight and a leather folder pressed firmly against her chest like a shield.
The heart rate monitor showed a slow rhythm, as if time were running out loud.
“Sign the fusion, Amira…” she said in a hoarse voice. “Before dawn.”
“I can defend myself in court,” he replied coldly and precisely. “I have lawyers in London, in New York…”
He let out a dry sound, more like a ball breaking than a laugh.
“The time for the courts is over. You need a surprise… and a rigging.” His surprisingly strong fingers squeezed his wrist.
“The government is waiting for my last breath to socialize everything. It will say ‘stability’, it will say ‘I have a male heir’.”
And what I have built… it will devour.”
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