The Death Relic

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The phone rang in the dead of night. One ring, then a second. He sat up in bed and turned on the light. It rang a third time as he rubbed his eyes and focused on the clock.

It was 2.43 a.m.

Someone was going to pay.

No one was to bother him at this hour. Not his high-priced attorney, his top lieutenants, or anyone else in his organization. In his mind, they simply didn’t deserve that kind of access. The only people he truly cared about slept under his roof. Everyone else could fend for themselves — especially after midnight.

He was the boss. Those were his rules. No one would dare to break them.

The last person who did was no longer alive.

On the fourth ring, he picked up his BlackBerry, only to discover it wasn’t ringing. He stared at the device, trying to make sense of things, wondering if it had been a dream. His question was answered when he heard the fifth ring. That’s when he located the source of the sound. It was coming from his private mobile phone on the dresser. How could that be? Only three people had the number: his wife, his daughter and his son.

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