THE dimly lit room echoed with the soft clink of glasses as Carlson poured himself a drink, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He leaned back in his chair, swirling the liquid in his glass, savoring both the drink and the triumph slowly taking shape. Kaylan stood near the window, arms crossed, his usual composed demeanor unshaken.

"Everything is falling into place," Carlson said, a smirk tugging at his lips. His eyes glinted with malice as he set his glass down. "Oswald won't know what hit him, at all."

Kaylan tilted his head slightly, his gaze meeting Carlson's.

"What is the next plan master?" He asked. "Tomorrow is Thursday, and Orlanda...