Meanwhile, at the Bromwick Hotel, Northeastern United States

With thoughtful consideration, Mr. Chen gazed out upon the remains of the Quintessence Society, otherwise known as the cabal.

“What the hell are you smiling about, old boy?” Mr. Tage said.

“All I need to do is make a phone call, and Dahlia will abandon Nigel like a hot potato.”

“Why would she do that?” the Sultan asked.

“Let’s just say that I’ve other allegiances that you have yet to discover. A doctor friend of mine runs a very profitable, but illegal, clinic in the New York underground.

“Underground? Do you mean the subway?” Mr. Tage asked.

Mr. Chen smiled.

It’s below and around that. You can say it’s hiding in plain sight,” Mr. Chen said.

“I hope you’re not getting into business with such a man,” the Sultan said with a disgusted expression on his face.

“I don’t see why we wouldn’t want to diversify, now that we have an opening.”

“We should meet this doctor. To make sure he is a good fit,” Mr. Tage said.

“When you are finished looking for gutter rats, might I make a proper suggestion to replace the Black Heart?” the Sultan asked.

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“What do you have in mind?” Chen said.

“I have a rare prize. A politician who has put the people in front of himself. He already has three cities under his control and friends in high places. He could be helpful for our cause.”

“Do you know why Dahlia is called the Black Heart?” Chen asked the Sultan.

“I remember something about her husband dying with a knife in his heart.”

“When Dahlia was young, she joined an idealist group of rebels in Bratislava called Jedáci Nožov. Translates to “Knife Eaters” in English. She got her nickname when the leader, Sarrin, ended up with a knife (featuring a black onyx handle) through his heart shortly after their son, Hunter, was born.”

“I knew she was ruthless, but that is homicidal,” Mr. Tage said.

“Her ‘darlings,’ as she called them, are brutal assassins. Raised from a young age to kill. She exploits their beauty to get what she desires.”

“And to think Dahlia promised some of these girls for my harem,” the Sultan said, cringing.

“Yes, and I’m certain she had a plan to take you out as well. She is the person we need to reshape the world in our image. Not some politician.”

The door to Chen’s study suddenly flung open. The older man spilled some of his prized cognac on his white suit.

“What’s the meaning of this intrusion?” Mr. Chen demanded.

“He’s hacked us,” Freeman said as he dropped the thick laptop onto the table.

“Who’s hacked what?” the Sultan said.

“The main wallet for the bounties has been drained.”

“What! You’ve lost our money?” Gratzano said, wrapping his hands around Freeman’s throat.

Freeman tried getting the mobster’s hands off his throat, but his grip was firm.

“Don’t kill the boy,” Mr. Tage said.

“Enough!” Chen said.

Gratzano let go. The teen grasped his throat.

Mr. Chen furrowed his brow and turned a shade of red. “There were millions of cryptocurrency in that wallet. Tell me you haven’t lost it already.”

“The money was there earlier.”

“Is there a way to track who took it?” the Sultan said.

“Yeah, there’s DigiScan. I can track it with that.”

“The plan only works if there’s money available to pay the hunters,” Mr. Tage said, alarmed.

“Let me work on this,” Freeman said.

“You have one hour,” Mr. Chen said.

Freeman sulked out of the conference room. He had to get to the bottom of this, and soon. His net worth to the cabal was dwindling, and he had an idea of who was responsible.