Detective Danny Cavanaugh 01 - The Brink

that they are the real deal.”
    He passed both documents to Blake Conway, who couldn’t wait to read them. Jack watched Blake’s eyes meticulously hike across the page. Blake’s confused look exploded into shock.
    “My God,” he choked out. “Is this really … It can’t be real.”
    Jack nodded at the second document. “Read the letter.”
    Blake slid the first document over to Charlie, who began devouring every word with Rita hovering over her shoulder.
    Blake finished reading the letter a minute later. “This is incredible.” He passed the letter on to Charlie and Rita, who were still going over the first document. Harry Tharp continued to stay seated, not showing any anxiousness or even a hint of excitement. He just kept popping his sunflower seeds and spitting the shells into a wastebasket next to him.
    Spit one more goddamn seed and you and I will go a few rounds out in the Rose Garden , Jack wanted to growl at him. He managed to corral his anger and concentrated on the reactions of the others as they digested this unimaginable information.
    Simon waited until Charlie and Rita were done reading the letter before he spoke.
    “Now you know why we think Tony has a vested interest in the demise of the United States of America.”

Chapter 49
    Anthony Fantroy was hosting the event but would be the last attendee to arrive. As he navigated the foggy rain that settled over London earlier that evening, he couldn’t help but worry about President Butcher’s phone call and his blunt admission of what they had discovered. The president’s words still echoed inside Fantroy’s head.
    “ Prime Minister Fantroy, let me get right to it. We have found two dirty bombs on American soil that can be traced back to Great Britain.”
    Fantroy tried to get a moment’s peace from the rollicking thoughts pounding his brain. He looked out from underneath the brim of his black Burberry bucket hat that resembled those strapped on several other pedestrians. No one gave him a second look as they scurried around the sidewalks in the rain. Still, to avoid recognition, he pulled his umbrella in tighter to his head as he turned onto Regent Street. He walked to Conduit Street and then finally onto Bond Street. He continued eyeing the people around him, making sure no one recognized him. The rain didn’t deter women from crowding into Versace and Tiffany’s. Men of means were no less deterred by the rain from heading into Armani and Burberry. Seeing these people made Fantroy remember the words of American philosopher Henry David Thoreau.
    Most of the luxuries and many of the so-called comforts of life are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind.
    He had read several of Thoreau’s works shortly after his induction into The Group. The passages had reminded him about the ironic fact that man’s quest for prosperity was in itself a descent into slavery. But it was this quest that allowed people like Fantroy and the others he would soon be sitting across from to stay in power. Another one of Thoreau’s lines, perhaps his most famous, came to mind: “Most men live lives of quiet desperation . ”
    How The Group reacted to their current situation, as well as their next moves, would ultimately determine if that quote would continue to stand the test of time.
    Fantroy came upon the façade of the Westbury Hotel. But instead of heading for the front door to be properly received by an overzealous manager and a franticly doting staff, he ducked into the alley that ran alongside it. The Westbury was on a short list of locations across the globe that The Group used for emergency meetings. Fantroy himself had traveled to and helped select each destination on that list. He was confident that The Group could meet at these locations without worrying about their proceedings, or even their presence, being leaked to the press.
    Fantroy stepped down a flight of stairs and opened a flimsy door marked “ D eliveries.” He walked along a series of dank hallways he was sure that no guest of the Westbury ever saw. He stepped through a door that read “ P rivate , N o A dmittance.” He turned several corners and came to a second door stamped with the same foreboding words. He tapped their secret beat on it. The door opened, and Fantroy was greeted by the people that truly ruled the planet.
    The minute Fantroy passed the threshold, the room was effectively sealed. As he began peeling his rain gear from his