Flight to Toronto

POV: Dima

The heavy mahogany door clicks shut behind me as I press the device against my ear.

"Why are you calling me right now?" I demand, my patience already running violently thin.

"I hate to interrupt your afternoon, Mr. Volkov," Dan says through the receiver. "But I managed to track down some critical updates regarding the banking hold-up."

"Skip the preamble and give me the bottom line,"