Chapter 13 - The Georgetown Decoy
The sub-zero winds of the capital swept across the paved courtyards of Georgetown, coating the historic brick townhouses in a glistening layer of frost. Inside a heavily fortified, unassuming brownstone tucked away on a quiet residential street, Senator Robert Sterling paced anxiously across the Persian rug, his eyes darting toward the secure comms terminal every two seconds.
"Status report," Sterling barked into his encrypted satellite phone, his voice shaking with suppressed panic. "Did the Marchetti estate pull the files? Did they access the mainframe backdoor?"
A metallic, distorted voice crackled through the speaker on the other end. “Negative, Senator. The encrypted drive was accessed briefly, but no data was downloaded. Furthermore... our perimeter sensors in Chicago report that the Marchetti security detail just went off-grid.”
Sterling stopped pacing, his blood running cold. "Off-grid? What does that mean? They should be taking the deal!"
“It means, Robert, that you vastly underestimated who you were dealing with.”
The voice didn't come from the satellite phone. It echoed smoothly and coldly from the shadows near the heavy front entryway of the brownstone.
Sterling spun around, his heart hammering against his ribs. Standing by the doorway, casually brushing a few stray snowflakes off the shoulders of his tailored wool overcoat, was Elias Marchetti. Behind him stood Viktor and two silent, heavily armed operatives who had bypassed the brownstone's multi-million-dollar security grid as if it were a child's toy.
"How... how did you get in here?" Sterling stammered, stumbling backward until his legs hit the edge of his mahogany desk. "My guards... the private detail..."
"Your private detail was vetted, paid, and retired about ten minutes before my flight landed at Andrews Air Force Base," Elias replied smoothly. He took two measured steps into the room, his gaze fixed coldly on the terrified politician. "You thought you could sit in Washington and play chess with the Chicago underworld, Robert. You thought you could hand us a poisoned apple and call it a partnership."
Sterling grabbed a heavy silver letter opener from his desk, brandishing it with trembling hands. "Don't come any closer! I'm still a sitting U.S. Senator! If I disappear, the federal government will tear your entire empire down to the bedrock!"
"Let them try," a cool, composed voice interrupted from the doorway.
Sterling’s eyes widened further as Maeve stepped into the room. She wore a sleek, charcoal trench coat, her expression calm, collected, and utterly terrifying in its absolute poise. She didn't look like a former housekeeper caught in a mob war; she looked like a sovereign queen inspecting an execution.
"You..." Sterling breathed, his hands shaking so violently he dropped the letter opener onto the floor. "You're the girl from the Ashford estate. The pawn."
"I used to be a pawn, Senator," Maeve said, stepping forward until she stood right beside Elias. "Until men like you and the Ashfords decided that my life didn't matter. But here is the funny thing about pawns, Robert: if they cross the board, they become queens."
Elias didn't waste any more time. With a swift, authoritative gesture, he signaled Viktor.
May you like
Before Sterling could scream, Viktor closed the distance, slapping heavy, high-tech biometric restraints onto the politician's wrists. The Senator slumped forward, all his political bravado vanishing into pathetic whimpers as he realized his career, his freedom, and his life had just come to a permanent, unceremonious end.
"Pack his files, Viktor," Elias instructed calmly, turning away from the sniveling politician. He looked down at Maeve, his expression softening into a warm, genuine smile. "Come, my love. Let's go home. Chicago is waiting."
