"John is late..." Aron said, pacing in circles with his hand covering his mouth, lost in deep thought.
"Why the hell hasn't he called yet? He always calls at seven o'clock sharp, not a minute more or less. Why was today any different?"
Aron's paranoid mind quickly began conjuring reasons why, even without the necessary clues to piece the puzzle together.
"Could we have been attacked? Did someone attack Manhattan? Holy shit! John and Ryan could be in danger, if not dead!"
He brought his hand to his forehead.
"Could it have been the military?"
His mind spiraled through what could be one catastrophe worse than the last.
"Did they finally find out we've been leaking information? Right now?! After all these years? Shit, shit, shit!"
He threw a punch against the wall, making the entire structure shake, startling the maids around him, who promptly swallowed hard before approaching him with soft steps.
