“You’re at Global?”
“Okay, switching the manifest now.”
I called the consortium of Midwest truckers.
“Hey, boys, it’s Judy. I heard about the crash. Listen, if you want your invoices paid this week, you need to bill Global. I’m fast-tracking the vendor setup.”
“We’re with you, Judy. Just tell us where to drive.”
It was a landslide, a mass migration.
By 8:00 p.m., I had moved 60% of Arcadia’s active volume to Global.
My phone buzzed. A text from Linda at Arcadia.
Linda: It’s a bloodbath here. Walter fired Travis. Security escorted him out. He was crying, Judy. Actually crying. Walter is in the conference room. He looks old. He’s asking for you.
I stared at the screen.
Travis was gone. The witch was dead, but the house had already fallen.
“Marcus,” I said, “I need to step out.”
“You just started.” He frowned.
“I need to close the loop.”
I drove back to Arcadia. The news vans were gone, but the police tape was still up around the hazmat area.
The building looked dark except for the lights on the top floor. The executive suite.
My badge didn’t work, obviously. I buzzed the intercom.
“Security.” A tired voice answered.
“It’s Judy,” I said.
There was a pause. Then the buzzer buzzed.
I walked through the lobby. It was empty. A ghost town. The employee of the month plaque still had a picture of Crystal on it. I resisted the urge to rip it down.
I took the elevator up. The executive floor was silent.
I walked past Travis’s office. The door was open. It was trashed. Papers everywhere, broken vase, a spilled kombucha on the rug, the smell of failure.
I walked to the boardroom.
Walter Henderson was sitting at the head of the long mahogany table. He was alone. A bottle of scotch was open in front of him.
He looked up when I entered. He looked shrunken, defeated.
“You took them all,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“I took the ones who wanted to survive,” I said, remaining standing.
“Global stock is up 8% in after-hours trading,” he muttered. “Arcadia’s post-market trading halted.”
He poured two glasses of scotch. He slid one down the table. It stopped right at the edge near me.
“I fired him,” Walter said. “Travis. I cut him off. Disinherited him. He’s gone.”
“That’s good, Walter. But it’s a day late.”
“I know.” He slammed his hand on the table. “I know. I trusted him. He’s my son.”
“He’s an idiot, Walter. And you knew it. But you let him play CEO because you wanted a legacy. And what is this?” He gestured around the empty room. “Is this my legacy?”
“No,” I said, picking up the glass. “I am.”
He stared at me.
“I trained the people who actually run this place. I wrote the contracts. I built the relationships. You provided the capital, Walter, but I provided the competence. And when you let that competence walk out the door, you lost the right to the legacy.”
I downed the scotch. It was expensive. Smooth.
“I offered you the COO job,” he said quietly in the car. “You said no.”
“Because I don’t want to fix your mistakes anymore,” I said. “I want to build something new with Marcus Thorne.”
He sneered. “He’s a shark.”
“He’s a shark who knows not to bite the hand that feeds the logistics network,” I said.
I put the glass down.
“I came here to tell you one thing, Walter. Linda in payroll, the warehouse team, and the dispatchers, don’t screw them. Give them their severance. If I hear that one paycheck bounces, I will poach every single remaining employee you have and leave you with nothing but the copper wire in the walls.”
Walter looked at me for a moment. I saw the old fire in his eyes.
“They’ll be paid,” he said.
“Good.”
I turned to leave.
“Judy,” he said.
I stopped.
“You were the best I ever had,” he said.
“I know,” I said. “That’s why it cost you so much to lose me.”
I walked out. I took the elevator down. I walked to my car.
I deleted the emergency contact list from my personal phone. They were all in the Global database now.