Janet arrived at the museum early, long before the guided tours and school groups filled the halls with noise. She chose a private wing designed for donors and researchers, a quiet stretch lined with glass cases and muted lighting. The bench she sat on looked ordinary, but it faced two exits and sat just outside the blind spot of a security camera. Janet crossed her legs slowly and folded her hands in her lap, appearing like a woman waiting for an appointment that was already late.Behind her stood her bodyguard, solid and unmoving, positioned close enough to act but far enough to seem casual. His eyes moved constantly, tracking reflections on glass, the soft echo of footsteps, the rhythm of the museum itself. Janet did not turn to look at him.“He’s late,” the bodyguard murmured.“Late means he’s careful,” Janet replied. “Or afraid.”“Or both.”Janet’s lips curved faintly. “Then we picked the right place.”Footsteps approached from the far end of the corridor. A man in a senior

Janet’s heartbeat spiked the moment Selene’s heels touched the pavement. It was sharp and sudden, the kind of shock that threatened to show on her face if she let it. She did not let it. She had learned long ago that panic was a luxury only safe people could afford.Her bodyguard leaned in slightly. “Madam… don’t move.”“I’m not moving,” Janet murmured. “I’m acting.”She turned toward her car as if she had only just arrived, opening the door halfway to block the view inside. Her fingers moved fast but controlled, slipping the folder that contained the files that contained information about Selene deep beneath a folded coat she had placed there earlier for exactly this reason. The door closed with a soft click. Nothing was rushed. Nothing was clumsy.“If she looks at the car,” Janet whispered, “you step between.”“And if she orders a search?” the bodyguard asked.Janet’s mouth curved faintly. “Then we smile and deal with it later. Not here.”Selene was already walking toward the m

Vincent exhaled. “He blamed me for underestimating Ethan. He said my convoy failure was my stupidity, not his strategy. He believes I rushed. He believes I’m desperate.”“And are you?” Vale asked.Vincent smiled, thin and sharp. “I believe that I am focused.”Vale nodded. “Good answer. Now tell me the other part.”Vincent’s gaze stayed steady. “He still believes it’s only one million pounds.” Vale’s eyes didn’t widen. He already knew. That was the point of this room, this building, this relationship. They had been here before, weeks ago, making plans that could get them both executed if spoken in daylight.Vincent continued anyway, because saying it out loud made it real. “He believes one million pounds of uranium is buried under that Xavier branch in Linbourgh.”Vale leaned back and let silence stretch. Then he said, “And the truth doesn’t fit in his mouth.”Vincent nodded. “Over five million pounds of uranium,” he said quietly. “That’s what’s there.”Vale’s lips pressed together

The first thing you heard at the Herold staging grounds was the metal. Tracks grinding. Engines coughing awake. Men laughing too loud to hide how excited they were.A pale line of dawn sat on the horizon, but the field was already alive. Tanks rested in rows like sleeping beasts. Armored trucks formed long lines that disappeared into the mist. Drones sat on tables beside batteries, waiting like silent birds.A young soldier tightened his vest and grinned at his friend. “This is it,” he said. “After today, my mother won’t ever worry about rent again.”His friend snorted. “After today, you’ll forget you even had a mother. You’ll be living like a prince.”“Prince?” the first one scoffed. “No. Captain Vincent Korr makes princes. I’m aiming higher.”An older corporal walked past them and heard the name. He shook his head with a proud smile. “Don’t talk like kids,” he said. “But you’re not wrong. Stay close. Do what you’re told. You’ll be rewarded.”A third soldier lifted his rifle and kis

The march began with a sound that did not feel human. Tracks bit into the earth. Engines roared in waves. The ground itself seemed to shake as if it wanted to move out of the way.A lieutenant jogged beside an armored truck and spoke into his radio. “Front line is rolling, sir. Drones are up. No surprise movement from the Xavier tech gates.”Vincent Korr stood with his upper body out of a hatch on the lead armored vehicle, one hand gripping the rim. His face was calm, almost bored, like this was a routine inspection. The wind pushed at his collar, but it did not push his confidence.A captain beside him lifted binoculars. “We’re in open terrain now,” he said. “If they have anything hidden, this is where it shows.”Vincent didn’t look at him. “They don’t have anything hidden that matters,” he said. “They have courage and rumors. That’s all.”The captain hesitated. “Sir… we lost leaders last time near Linbourgh. The men remember.”Vincent’s mouth curved slightly. “Then let them remembe