Chapter 6 - The Secret Syndicate
"Drink this," Dante said, gesturing with his chin toward a crystal glass of water that Marco set beside my elbow.
I drank the entire glass in three huge gulps, the cool water soothing my parched throat.
"Who did this to you, Dante?" I asked, dropping the formal titles now that we had survived the surgical trench together.
Dante leaned back against the elevated pillows, his color returning as the antibiotics circulated through his system.
"His name is Julian Vance," Dante replied, his voice darkening into an icy menace.
"He heads the syndicate that controls the pharmaceutical distribution warehouses along the southern rail corridor."
"He wanted access to my shipping routes to import untested black-market medical supplies and counterfeit drugs into state hospitals."
A cold shiver ran down my spine as the pieces clicked together with horrifying precision.
"Mercy General has been receiving contaminated heparin shipments for three weeks," I said, staring at Dante with widening eyes.
"Two pediatric patients nearly died last Tuesday because of irregular dosage formulas in the pharmacy."
Dante nodded slowly, his jaw hardening into a solid block of granite.
"Julian stabbed me because I refused to authorize his cargo through our private rail spurs."
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"He knew that if he took me off the board, my younger cousins would fold under pressure and sign the contract."
"And now," Dante continued, looking straight into my eyes, "he knows that you possess the medical knowledge to identify the exact batch numbers of his contraband."
