2023-12-03 07:01:12
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295 The Mother
The large screen above the podium flickered to life, its pixels resolving into bold white text on a deep blue field: VICTOR CROMWELL.Victor had won the mayoral election by a narrow margin! A wave of cheers surged from one section of the hall, people raising their hands, waving flags, and calling out his name."Victor! Victor!""We love you, Mayor Cromwell!"The opposing side offered only scattered applause, quiet conversations, and a few shaken heads. Victor's retinue, positioned near the stage, exchanged subtle nods as relief settled over them.Carol watched from her spot, her face tightening as the announcement registered. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she pressed her lips together in a firm line.Charles stood beside her and draped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her in with a gentle pull. She leaned against him, her attention still fixed forward on the stage, though her fingers twisted lightly at the fabric of her sleeve.Victor climbed the steps to the podium with steady
294 The Debate
"How is this even legal?" a reporter shouted from the front row, her microphone thrust forward like a weapon. "You can't just declare elections in the middle of a military zone and expect people to vote!"The amphitheater exploded into chaos the instant Charles Wheeler finished speaking. Thousands of voices crashed together—some cheering wildly, their fists pumping in the air. In contrast, others booed and shouted in confusion. "Now? Right now?" a woman near the center screamed, waving her phone like proof of absurdity. "We're standing here watching fireworks, and suddenly we're supposed to pick a mayor?"Flags waved frantically, some in support, others in protest, while media crews surged forward like a tidal wave, cameras rolling, lights flashing, reporters yelling overlapping questions that blended into one roaring din."Is this even possible under military rule?" another journalist bellowed. "Or in a democracy, for that matter? Where's the oversight? The ballots? The time to camp
293 Elections
"How can that be possible?" Kate whispered, her voice barely above the evening breeze. Her eyes were wide as she stared at Victor."Are you serious? If Charles Wheeler died in that explosion years ago, how is he standing here, alive, giving speeches and running the country? Are you sure the information wasn't a mistake?"Victor turned away from the fading sunset, his expression grave. The city lights below were starting to twinkle like distant stars. He leaned back against the balustrade, folding his arms as if holding in the weight of what he'd just revealed. "The information is authentic. As far as how Wheeler cheated death is concerned, I don't know yet. Resurrection like this, that is, coming back from a confirmed death, would require something beyond ordinary medicine.""It would either be very advanced science, or perhaps experimental tech we've only heard whispers about, or," he paused before adding, "something supernatural."Kate opened her mouth to scoff. The word "supernatur
292 Buried Secrets
"You disappeared too quietly, sir," Kate said softly, her voice reaching him across the terrace. "The evening events are picking up right now, especially since the fireworks are starting soon. The band will be playing the Vice President's favorite songs. Everyone is asking where the Mayor General went."Victor didn't turn immediately. He stayed leaning against the balustrade, gazing out over Springfield as the sun dipped low on the horizon.The city sprawled below like a living map. From the Presidential building, Fort Cromwell looked like a modern monolith, its walls glinting in the fading light. On the ground, factories were alive even at dusk, and the streets brimmed with the distant glow of festivities.Victor looked as if he was in a trance, his shoulders slightly hunched under his suit jacket. He did not respond to his subordinate's words.Kate hesitated at the terrace doors for a moment before stepping out fully. The evening breeze tugged at her dark hair. It was cooler up here
291 The Presidential Order
"That has to change," Carol accused him, shocking the room into awkward silence. "You cannot run a city in America illegally like a dictator. You must resign."All eyes turned to Victor to see his reaction to Carol's straightforward insult. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers interlaced on the table, completely unfazed by the direct challenge.He met her gaze steadily, and a faint confident smile touched his lips, as if he had anticipated every word she would say."With all due respect, Carol," he began like a teacher correcting a misunderstanding. "Springfield operates under full legal authority of the United States. It was declared a special military zone by a direct Presidential order months ago."Victor brandished a framed document that an attendant quickly brought to him. "This decree came straight from the Oval Office, recognizing the unique threats we faced and the need for streamlined governance. It's not illegal if it's sanctioned at the highest level. Do you claim to ha
290 The Dictator's Table
"That lobster roll was something else," Charles Wheeler said, settling deeper into his high-backed chair with a contented grin that lit up his whole face."I mean it. It was fresh, buttery, with that perfect crunch from the toasted bun. And don't get me started on the barbecue ribs. It was smoky, tender, and the sauce had just enough tang to make you want more. Whoever catered this knows their craft. Introduce me to your chef, I'm taking them to DC."Victor Cromwell watched him laugh from across the expansive conference table. The elite presidential conference room was a fortress of luxury, with thick carpets, walls lined with portraits of past leaders, and a massive window overlooking the plaza, where the festivities still sounded faintly in the distance."We're pleased you approved, Mr. Vice President," Victor said curtly. "It is all local talent, all of it."Charles waved a hand enthusiastically, leaning forward as if sharing a secret with old friends. "Approved? That's an understa
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