Silas Branson was sitting at his desk, studying a report and wondering how things at the cabal meeting were going when one of the cell phones on his desk rang. It was the line he'd set up dedicated to this mission, now titled Operation: Zeus, for the Greek god of law, order, and justice. Only select people had the number.
He glanced at his watch as he reached for the receiver. Not quite dinnertime yet. Assuming he wouldn't be hearing from Max or Regan until later in the evening, he frowned as he lifted the receiver.
"Branson."
"Sir," a deep masculine voice said, "this is Kaminski at the hospital in Denver. I think we may have a problem."
Immediately, Si's hand tensed on the phone, but he forced himself to remain calm. Get the details, assess the situation then decide if you need to panic.
"Give me the details."