Chapter 104: Taking a Route Job

"Gregory Vance, Chief Trustee of the Metropolitan Angel Foundation," Lola said. "Second executive in 24 hours."

The call that had pulled her away from dinner the previous night had been an identical homicide on the Lower East Side... another non-profit director found with the same high-impact stab wounds.

Two charity executives killed on consecutive nights with identical methods pointed to an organized, targeted purge...

Within 2 hours of Gregory Vance’s body being removed from his Upper East Side townhouse, the police department issued an initial press briefing across local networks.

Two foundation directors killed within 24 hours... both showing multiple close-range stab wounds, with no signs of forced entry and minimal forensic recovery at either scene.

Coverage expanded rapidly across news feeds, putting pressure on corporate charities throughout the city.

The targeting was specific to foundation executives, leading several local trusts to review building security and limit public appointments while the homicide division coordinated the investigation.

With the recent announcement of the $1 billion Lawson Sovereign Endowment, Jude fell squarely within that profile on paper...

Rather than contracting an armed detail, however, Jude left his routine unchanged.

He had no intention of complicating his day-to-day schedule, and if someone targeted his holdings directly, dealing with it in person was far simpler than coordinating private security.

After leaving Claire Kensington at the South Street café, Jude headed across the bridge toward Manhattan.

Cruising north along the avenue, he checked the dashboard clock.

It was early afternoon, and his schedule for the remainder of the day was completely clear.

While his holding company held substantial interests across media, commercial real estate, and waterfront logistics, each subsidiary operated under its own executive management.

With Claire taking charge of the endowment’s administration, the daily operations required little hands-on intervention.

Waiting at a red light, Jude recalled his time working courier shifts across the city.

The earnings had been modest, but the steady pace had kept his days structured before administrative conflicts with regional dispatch led him to step away.

A distinct chime sounded across his interface.

[Secure active employment as a last-mile parcel courier.]

Jude looked at the interface, amused.

Rather than an asset transfer or financial yield, the system had generated a field task matching his previous line of work...

He accepted the directive, opened the navigation panel to check for logistics hubs nearby, and made a right turn 3 blocks east toward a neighborhood distribution branch of MetroExpress.

Due to seasonal delivery volumes, the loading bay at the MetroExpress facility was lined with stacked cardboard boxes and postal totes running nearly to the ceiling.

On the sorting apron, the station manager stood alongside 6 couriers, scanning shipping manifests and organizing packages into regional route hampers.

"Fiona," the manager called toward the glass office near the bay door. "Did the morning job listing post to the job board? Has anyone come by to ask about the route shifts?"

Inside, his wife called back through the window, "Nothing yet. Every depot in the borough is short-staffed this week."

An engine note echoed down the industrial access road as Jude pulled the black Koenigsegg Jesko to a stop by the edge of the sorting bay.

The scanners on the loading floor stopped.

The 6 workers held their boxes mid-stride, looking over at the carbon-fiber frame and low stance of the car parked against the apron.

The manager lowered his manifest, taking in the car.

Having followed performance motors for years, he recognized the profile immediately: a custom Koenigsegg Jesko, one of only a handful built globally.

A vehicle at that level was rarely seen idling by a commercial freight bay...

The door rotated open, and Jude stepped onto the pavement.

He wore an unbranded cashmere sweater, with the platinum finish of his watch visible at the wrist as he closed the door and walked toward the bay.

The manager wiped his hands on a rag and walked over, his tone polite and cautious.

"Afternoon, sir. I’m the station manager here. Are you looking to track a priority shipment or set up an expedited pickup?"

Behind him, the workers stood near the sorting racks, watching the conversation.

Fiona stepped out from the office, looking between Jude and the vehicle at the curb.

Jude gave a polite nod. "Neither. I saw the hiring sign by the entryway. Are you still taking applications for parcel couriers? I’m here for the route opening."

The loading bay went quiet.

For several seconds, the staff looked at him in total confusion.

The manager’s expression tightened with unease. "Applying for a courier route? Sir, if one of our route vans cut you off near the intersection or caused an issue on the road, let me know directly. I’ll pull the driver right now."

Jude kept his tone steady. "No vehicles cut me off, Manager. I’m not here about a traffic complaint. I’m applying for the courier position."

The manager looked at him, trying to make sense of the request. "Then... why would someone driving a car like that want to run parcel deliveries?"

"Managing capital leaves a lot of open time," Jude said with an easy smile. "I prefer an active routine. You won’t have an issue with performance... I worked express delivery routes before this, so I know the street grid and the sorting systems."

While the manager stood hesitating, Fiona stepped forward, reading the situation quickly.

A person with that level of capital had no reason to manufacture an issue with a small depot; if he wanted an active shift for his own reasons, turning away an extra pair of hands during a peak volume week made no sense...

"If you’re ready to take a route, you’re hired," Fiona said, extending her hand. "I run operations here. Most people call me Sister Feng. What’s your name?"

"Jude Lawson," Jude said, shaking her hand.

"You’re on the roster, Mr. Lawson," Fiona said with a nod. "We can get your scanner set up whenever you’re ready."

The manager let out a breath and gave a nod. "Welcome to the depot, Mr. Lawson."

Around the sorting area, the 6 couriers exchanged glances, smiling as they called out to the new driver,

"Welcome aboard, Brother Jude!"

"Good to have you on the floor!"