2025-09-25 22:57:49
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Chapter 256: Attempted Assassination!
The café Whitaker had chosen was tucked away at a quiet corner near the old train station — an aging place with chipped wood trim and faint jazz music playing from a battered radio in the corner. Outside, the glow of election posters lit up the streets, plastered faces of Senator Moore and Stones staring down with hollow smiles, as if each already claimed the city for themselves.Jackson pushed through the door, scanning instinctively. His senses prickled with unease, though he told himself it was just the paranoia that came with meeting a man on the run.Whitaker was still there seated in the farthest booth, back to the wall, his coat collar turned up, a steaming cup of coffee untouched before him. He looked older in this light — not the sharp, iron-spined CIA man Jackson knew, but a soldier stripped of his armor.Jackson slid into the booth across from him. Neither spoke for a long moment. Outside the window, a bus rattled past, its headlights sweeping briefly across their table b
Chapter 255: Be Careful, Jackson!
The drive from the CIA headquarters pressed down on Whitaker like a weight as he tried to clear his head of everything that had just transpired between him and superintendent Hayes back in his office. For years, the CIA badge had been everything: his weapon, his shield, his proof that his sacrifices meant something. Now, it was gone, and it felt like a part of him had gone with the badge too.After so much sacrifice, after choosing loyalty to his nation and the services of the citizens of his country, he just couldn't believe this was how it was going to end.It would have been better if Hayes had at least explained to him why he was relieving him of his duties, but he hadn't done any of that, and that was what even hurt the most.Whitaker and Hayes had both rose through the ranks in the CIA after starting from the bottom as ordinary field agents. They've been friends—two young minds reaching for their goals against all odds. But like the saying goes, "power corrupts," and that was
Chapter 254: The Final Push!
The city had never looked this restless.Every streetlight, every bus stop, every half-broken lamppost seemed caught between two storms — the surge of hope and the swell of dread.Campaign banners snapped in the wind, frayed edges brushing across graffiti-stained walls. On some corners, Senator Stones’ face gleamed in crisp print — chin lifted, eyes burning with the promise of reform. On others, Senator Moore’s grin leered back at pedestrians, sharp as a knife hidden in velvet.From the skyscrapers of the financial district to the crumbling outskirts, the capital pulsed with noise and heat.Stadiums overflowed with Stones’ supporters, the air shaking with chants that rolled like thunder across the avenues. Handmade signs bobbed above the crowds: “The Future Is Stones” and “Our Flame of Change.” Drone cameras circled overhead, their lights winking as they streamed live feeds into millions of homes.Moore’s campaign, slick and merciless, fought back with shadows. Billboards smeared Sto
Chapter 253: The Gallery of Quiet Vengeance!
Sophia Maxwell lowered her phone with the same care she’d once reserved for fragile relics. It was deliberate, unhurried, the movement practiced until it looked effortless. The suite around her lay half in shadow, pale lamplight slicing the room into bands of soft gold and deep onyx. Velvet curtains pooled at the windows; a slow breath of city air carried no sound up to this height. It felt, deliciously, like a world apart.She turned in her chair and faced the wall where she had arranged the faces that mattered most to her. They hung in precise alignment, each headshot framed in black and lit by a narrow sliver of brass light that made truth appear like accusation.Senator Moore: eyes fixated on the camera, the iron certainty of a man who believed his own press releases.Don Lewis: corporate grin, teeth too white against the magazine gloss, a charisma that had always smelled faintly of bribes.Superintendent Hayes: medals shining, eyes the color of old coin—unyielding, bought and br
Chapter 252: Embers in the Wind!
Three days to the presidential elections.Three days until the city would either bend beneath the iron weight of Senator Moore’s promises, or splinter under the pressure of suspicions already boiling through its streets.That morning, The Capitol Eye struck first. Its headline was as clean and ruthless as a blade:FIRES AND FALSEHOODS: THE QUESTIONS NO ONE IS ASKINGBy Thomas RourkeThe piece spread like smoke from a hidden fire.Thomas didn’t hurl accusations outright—he didn’t need to. Instead, he threaded them carefully, mapping inconsistencies like a surgeon tracing veins beneath pale skin. Response times that didn’t match dispatch logs.Classified directives buried under redactions that contradicted open CIA memos.Mentions of “unofficial visitors” at the Superintendent’s office scrubbed from official schedules, yet captured in blurred surveillance frames.And most damning of all—two separate reports on the same day: one listing Superintendent Hayes as spearheading an anti-Mafia
Chapter 251: The Map’s Whisper
The lift doors slid open with a muted chime, and Jackson stepped into the hushed foyer of Sky Tower. His shirt was rumpled, his eyes shadowed, and the weight of the conversation with the Observers still clung to him like smoke.Bella was the first to rise from the couch. She had been pacing moments earlier, her phone clenched in her hand, her face lined with worry. When she saw him, relief burst through her, quickly followed by frustration.“Jackson!” She strode across the room, her voice tight. “Where the hell have you been? We’ve been worried sick.”Mr. Copper stood near the window, arms folded, his profile carved in stern silence. He didn’t move when Jackson entered—only his eyes followed, dark and sharp.Jackson exhaled slowly, tugging a hand across his face. “I'm fine. I just got side tracked."Bella shook her head. “No—you dropped me off, remember? I watched you drive away. Then Copper calls me, asking where you were because you hadn’t come back here. I thought—” Her voice broke
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