Chapter Thirty

Elias

Tucked inside a private suite at a boutique hotel in DC, Elias expelled a measured breath as he collected his thoughts. Thoughts that were more chaos than cohesion, but he wouldn't let that show. He couldn't let that show. The venue was one that catered to high-profile guests who required the utmost discretion. Considering he was walking around with a target on his back, the security—both visible and invisible—was an added benefit. Taking into account the topic of conversation, it was downright vital. The air was perfumed by polished wood and expensive cologne. Long, lingering shadows played over the understated furnishings, the kind of carefully curated illumination ideal for quiet power plays and high-stakes matters of import.

A circular table dominated the center of the room, with plush leather chairs positioned around it and a decanter of whiskey, more for show than anything else, sat amidst crystal pitchers of ice water. Everyone knew this was the kind of meeting where it wouldn't benefit anyone to dull their senses with the expensive liquor. Elias pressed his palms to the cool surface of the table as he surveyed the gathered men and women. Across from him, Matthew stood solid and stern, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows and his expression sharp and calculating.

To his left sat Maria Holt, a former diplomat who had long grown disillusioned by the corruption in Washington. To his right, Leland Ortega, an independent strategist with deep military ties, adjusted his tie with a slow, deliberate movement. Half a dozen more people cluttered around the periphery of the room. Political allies, key advisors, important people who needed to be here but didn't need to speak unless absolutely necessary. Even without the nomination secured, the hierarchy was already falling into place.

The atmosphere was thick with tension. Everyone in the room had played this game before, Elias included, but the stakes had never been quite so high. With another carefully controlled sigh, he finally addressed the group. “We have confirmation that the corruption we suspected runs far deeper than we ever anticipated. A mole within the Bureau has been dealt with. Information collected during the operation is damning, but it also tells us what we already knew. This isn't an instance of a few bad actors in high places. We’re looking at a coordinated effort to dismantle the government as we know it from the inside out.”

A silence settled over them, not from surprise but from the sheer weight of it all. Matthew was the one bold enough to break the somber quietude.

“How airtight is our intel? If we start moving on this information and it falls apart, we’ll lose any ground we have gained.”

“I have an operative decrypting the files as we speak, but what we have already pulled together confirms the financial ties between high-ranking officials and foreign interests. This isn't just about political power, but control. We have additional confirmation that at least one of the involved parties is affiliated with the highest levels of the executive branch.” He kept his words vague because their information on that front was vague. Evans was implicated, but the issue with that was that there were two Evans’ in play. Until they had rock solid evidence, he hesitated to make assumptions about which of the brothers was the most culpable. His gut told him it was likely both.

Maria reached for a glass of water with a contemplative glint to her features. “What’s our move? We can't expose this yet. Not without the undeniable proof. Even if we had that smoking gun, if the wrong people got to it first, they’d spin it sideways and upside down before we could even take a breath.”

“Which is precisely why we aren't going public yet. We need to shore up our allies. Matthew’s commitment gives us a solid foundation, but we need more. We need bipartisan backing and we need powerful voices that can't be silenced.” Elias straightened, his palms resting on his hips.

Leland smoothed his tie again, the same slow, deliberate movement making it look like a nervous tic. “How exactly do you propose we do that? Everyone who matters is likely either compromised or terrified.”

“Not everyone,” countered Matthew with the unwavering confidence that made him such a formidable ally. “We have friends. They just need a reason to make a move.”

“And we will give them one.” Elias tapped the surface of the table with his finger. “We'll make it clear that this is bigger than party lines. This is about the survival of democracy as we know it.”

“What I would like to know is where the President stands in all this.” Maria set her drinking glass down with a clink. Elias’ eyes flicked toward her. What he wouldn't say out loud was that he had the exact same thought. It was a thought that often kept him up at night.

“We’re working that angle. I have a plan. It's a risky one, but I'm confident we’ll get our answer from it.” He didn't share the details of the plan. Honestly, the plan was a last ditch effort and the implications of executing it brought back the all too familiar aching pressure in his chest. He switched topics before the hop-skip-jump of an anxiety-induced irregular heartbeat could gain traction. “Can you still reach out to your contacts in the intelligence community?”

Maria hesitated before granting a clipped nod. “A few. The ones I can trust.”

“Do that.” Elias turned his gaze toward Leland. “What about military support? If this escalated, we need to know who will stand with us.”

“That’s a bit trickier.” His hand straightened his already straight tie. “The people I trust won't move without hard evidence.”

“And they’ll get it,” Elias promised. “When the time comes, I need to know we aren't alone.”

Leland held his gaze for a long moment before giving a single dip of his chin. “I'll put feelers out.”

An ominous silence fell over the room. No scratch of note taking. No shifting of bodies. Barely even a breath shared amongst them. Again, it was Matt who found the bravado to break the spell. “This isn't just a campaign anymore. This is war.”

“It always has been. We were simply the last people to get the memo.” Elias pinched the space between his eyes with a quiet exhalation.

Maria’s chair squealed against the floor as she scooted forward. The clink of crystal lanced through the air as she uncapped the decanter. The glug of liquid filling a tumbler accentuated the tightrope tension hanging over them and movement caught his eye as she lifted the vessel in a toast.

“Well, here’s to treason, my friends.”

Elias didn't bother correcting her. He didn't need to correct her, because the chilling truth of it was that, if they lost, that was exactly what the history books would call it. Treason. A shiver coursed through his body as he scanned the grim expressions around him. They all knew it. Hopefully, with a miracle on their side, it wouldn't go down in the books as an act of treason. Hopefully, they’d all make it out the other side with their reputations—and lives—intact.