A day later.
The White House, Washington D.C.
The room was dimly lit, the warm glow of a single lamp casting long shadows against the walls of the presidential study. The faint crackle of the fireplace was the only sound, a stark contrast to the chaos brewing outside the White House. Matthew Hesh sat with his hands clasped together, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished oak desk. The weight of the mont pressed down on him like an anvil.
Bradford was tightening the noose. The war declaration lood. Congress was dangerously close to overriding his veto. Public sentint was still divided, but the war hawks had the advantage—controlling the press, manipulating the narrative, and ensuring that any hesitation on Matthew’s part looked like weakness.
He needed sothing—anything—to turn the tide.
The door creaked open, and Collins stepped in, his expression grave. Behind him was a man dressed in an unassuming gray suit, his deanor unremarkable, his presence forgettable. But Matthew knew that was precisely the kind of person who could slip into places unnoticed.
"Mr. President," Collins said carefully, "this is Nathaniel Rhodes."
Rhodes stepped forward and gave a slight nod. "An honor, sir."
Matthew studied the man before him. He was in his mid-thirties, with neatly combed brown hair, sharp eyes, and the quiet confidence of soone who knew how to navigate dangerous waters. He was neither imposing nor frail—simply ordinary, which made him all the more useful.
Collins gestured to the chair across from Matthew. "Have a seat."
Rhodes complied without hesitation.
"You’re a mber of Bradford’s inner circle?" Matthew asked, his voice firm.
Rhodes smirked slightly. "Not quite, sir. But I work in the Capitol. I handle classified intelligence briefings. That ans I have access to so of Bradford’s correspondences and etings. And I’ve been paying attention."
Matthew leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Why are you willing to help?"
Rhodes exhaled. "Because I know what he’s doing, sir. And I don’t want Arathia to beco sothing it was never ant to be."
Matthew exchanged a glance with Collins, who gave a small nod of approval.
Satisfied, Matthew straightened. "Tell everything."
Rhodes wasted no ti. "Bradford and his allies aren’t waiting for your veto, Mr. President. They’re moving ahead as if war is already declared. Troop deploynts along the border are increasing, military spending has surged, and production contracts are already being issued. They’re setting everything in motion so that when the war is formally approved, Arathia is ready to march."
Matthew clenched his jaw. "He’s forcing my hand."
Rhodes nodded grimly. "And that’s not all. Bradford isn’t just relying on political pressure. He’s planning another incident—sothing bigger than Fort McKinley."
Matthew’s heart pounded. "Do you have specifics?"
"Not yet," Rhodes admitted. "But I know they’ve been eting in secrecy, outside of the Capitol. Bradford, Macias, Carter, and a handful of others. They’re coordinating sothing. And whatever it is, it’s designed to eliminate any opposition—including you."
Collins stiffened. "Are we talking about assassination?"
Rhodes shook his head. "Not directly. But they’re working to turn the entire governnt against you. If you refuse to act, they’ll use the press to label you as a traitor, unfit to lead. There’s already talk among their allies in Congress about invoking the constitutional removal clause."
Matthew inhaled sharply. "They’re trying to remove ."
Rhodes nodded. "Yes, sir. And they might succeed if they generate enough public outrage."
Matthew leaned back, his mind racing. He had expected resistance, but he hadn’t expected Bradford to move this aggressively. The war hawks weren’t just trying to push their agenda—they were preparing to eliminate any obstacle in their path.
And Matthew Hesh was the biggest obstacle of all.
Matthew exhaled, rubbing his temples. "We need more than speculation, Mr. Rhodes. We need proof."
Rhodes straightened. "I can get it. But I need more ti."
"We don’t have ti," Collins interjected. "Congress is moving faster than expected. If they override the veto, it’s over."
Matthew turned to Rhodes. "Can you get inside one of Bradford’s etings?"
Rhodes hesitated. "Not easily. But I can listen. There are people inside who talk too much after a few drinks. I have sources. I can get us sothing."
Matthew’s fingers tightened around his desk. "Do it. We need solid evidence that Bradford is manufacturing this war." Enjoy new tales from .Côm
Rhodes gave a firm nod and stood, buttoning his jacket. "I’ll be in touch soon."
Matthew watched as he left.
Collins turned to him. "Sir, if we don’t stop this now, we may not get another chance."
Matthew didn’t respond imdiately. His mind was already moving a step ahead.
Bradford had already pushed Congress this far—if his plan involved staging another attack, it ant he was willing to escalate this beyond political maneuvering. It ant real lives would be lost in order to secure a war that never should have happened.
The press was already against him. Congress was shifting further into Bradford’s pocket. xico had nothing to prove their innocence.
He needed leverage.
He needed to hit back.
Collins was about to speak again when Matthew cut him off. "We need soone inside. Soone close enough to Bradford that they can hear exactly what’s coming."
Collins hesitated. "That’s not easy, sir. Rhodes is already our best bet, but he’s an observer. If we’re talking about infiltration…" He trailed off.
Matthew t his gaze. "We’re talking about infiltration."
Collins exhaled. "You understand how dangerous that is? If we get caught—if anyone gets caught—it’ll be seen as presidential overreach. And if Bradford finds out, he won’t just go after you politically."
Matthew’s expression hardened. "I’m aware."
Collins sighed, rubbing his temples. "There is soone. But you’re not going to like it."
Matthew leaned forward. "Who?"
Collins hesitated before answering. "His na is Elias Vaughn. A forr military intelligence officer—he resigned after the war with Spain. He’s worked as a political consultant for so of the senators in Bradford’s circle."
Matthew raised an eyebrow. "A political consultant?"
Collins nodded. "Unofficially, he’s an operative. The kind who deals in blackmail, information leaks, and backroom deals. If anyone can get close to Bradford, it’s him."
Matthew exhaled slowly. "And can we trust him?"
Collins was quiet for a mont before answering. "We can buy him."
Matthew frowned but nodded. "Set a eting. If Bradford wants to fight dirty, then so will we."
Collins hesitated. "Sir, this is dangerous."
Matthew’s gaze was cold. "So is war, Collins."
Collins nodded. "I’ll make the call."
As Collins left, Matthew leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.
Bradford thought he had won.
But Matthew Hesh wasn’t finished yet.
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