Chapter 9 - THE SHADOWS OF THE CAPITOL
The autumn air over Washington, D.C., carried the crisp, sterile scent of political maneuvering and old paper. Inside a secure, wood-paneled briefing room beneath the Department of the Interior, three federal intelligence directors sat in rigid silence, staring at a high-definition satellite feed projected onto the central wall.
The screen showed the Newport coastline. Above the cliffs, a squadron of adult silver dragons soared in synchronized loops, their metallic scales catching the morning sunlight with blinding brilliance.
"They aren't hiding anymore," Director Harrison said, rubbing his temples as if trying to massage away an encroaching migraine. He looked across the mahogany table at the man seated opposite him—special envoy Julian Thorne, a senior liaison who had spent decades managing the government's quiet, blind-eye agreements with America's oldest ultra-wealthy dynasties.
"Hiding was never the point, Harrison," Julian replied smoothly, adjusting his tie. "For four centuries, the Blackwood family kept the relics sealed to protect us from a reality our institutions weren't ready to handle. Now that the eggs have hatched globally, containment is a logistical impossibility."
"Global exposure is an understatement," a sharp-eyed defense strategist interjected. "European intelligence agencies are demanding answers. The British Crown is claiming historical jurisdiction over the Atlantic sanctuaries. And corporate conglomerates are already lobbying to patent the genetic structure of those metallic scales."
Julian leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. His expression hardened. "Let me make one thing crystal clear. The Blackwoods are not a corporation you can regulate, nor are they a foreign power you can sanction. They own half the coastal infrastructure, control critical energy grids through private trusts, and, most importantly, they now command a species that can turn our modern defense systems into scrap metal in an afternoon."
"So what do you propose we do?" Harrison asked, his voice tight. "Just let a feudal dynasty operate a sovereign airspace within the United States?"
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"We don't have a choice," Julian said softly. "Princess Olivia Blackwood has formally requested a
congressional summit. She isn't asking for permission, Director. She is offering terms."
