Thomas Sterling walked in first, followed by Richard Cole and four uniformed federal marshals. The sterile, cold light of the hallway flooded the room, cutting through the warm, dim ambiance of the office.
Bob's smile froze. He set his wine glass down, his legal instincts kicking in. He stepped forward, adjusting his tie, trying to project the authority of a high-end corporate lawyer.
"Who authorized this?" Bob demanded, his voice sharp. "This is private property. I am the head of legal for SSS Technologies, and this is Ms. Laura, the sole owner. If you don't have a warrant—"
"We have three," Sterling said, throwing a heavy leather folder onto the desk in front of Marta.
Marta flinched, pulling her feet down from the desk as the folder landed with a dull thud.
Richard Cole stepped forward, his tablet in hand. He didn't look at Bob; his eyes were fixed on Laura.
"Ms. Laura," Cole said, his voice flat and clinical, "I am here on behalf of the High Trust Creditors Group. SSS Technologies' Greenwood Processing Plant outside of town was declared a Level Four environmental hazard by the EPA six hours ago, following a major industrial chemical leak. The plant has been ordered into immediate shutdown."
Bob scoffed, waving a hand. "That's an operational issue. We have insurance for environmental liability. We will handle the cleanup through our standard corporate channels."
"You don't understand, Bob," Cole cut him off, his voice carrying a dangerous, quiet edge. "The Greenwood plant was the primary collateral for our eighty-million-dollar development loan. Under the terms of the loan agreement, an EPA Level Four shutdown constitutes an immediate material default. The entire eighty million dollars is now accelerated and due in full. Right now."
The silence that fell over the room was so thick it felt physical.
Laura looked at Bob, her hand starting to tremble. "Bob, what is he talking about? What loan? Eighty... eighty million?"