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Elias Vaughn moved through the Capitol with the ease of a ghost, blending into the sea of clerks, aides, and officials that flooded the halls. His target was clear: docunts, ledgers, correspondences—anything that could prove that Bradford and his circle were orchestrating the war from behind the scenes.

For a man as ticulous as Bradford, there was always a paper trail. Vaughn knew that powerful n often thought themselves untouchable, and in their arrogance, they made mistakes. The challenge wasn’t finding the evidence—it was getting it before Bradford and his n realized they had a traitor in their midst.

He had one shot at this.

Inside Bradford’s Office

Vaughn had spent years navigating dangerous missions, but walking into the office of one of the most powerful n in Arathia was a different kind of operation. He couldn’t afford mistakes.

The door to Bradford’s office was locked, as expected. Vaughn wasn’t a thief, but he had learned a few tricks in his ti. A quick glance around confird that no one was watching. He reached into his coat pocket, producing a small set of lockpicks.

He worked quickly, feeling the tumblers shift beneath his touch.

Click.

The lock gave way.

Vaughn slipped inside, closing the door silently behind him. The office was immaculate, with bookshelves lining the walls and a mahogany desk dominating the space. It was the desk he was interested in.

He moved swiftly, knowing he had limited ti. He opened the drawers one by one, flipping through docunts. At first, it was the usual political paperwork—budget reports, military assessnts, correspondence with other senators. But then, at the bottom of the drawer, he found sothing that made his pulse quicken.

A leather-bound ledger, stamped with an official governnt seal.

Vaughn flipped it open.

Inside was a detailed breakdown of planned military movents—except these weren’t orders from the President or the War Departnt. These were private arrangents between high-ranking officials, including Macias, Carter, and several others.

His eyes narrowed as he scanned the entries:

October 30: Convoy operation—ensure "xican" involvent, high casualties necessary.

November 2: USS Monroe—detonation planned, ensure no survivors.

November 5: Full mobilization, public address prepared. Hesh must not interfere.

It was all there. The attacks, the planning, the orchestration of false-flag operations designed to infla public anger and force Arathia into war.

Vaughn wasn’t just looking at proof.

He was looking at treason.

But there was more. A separate folder beneath the ledger contained financial records. Paynts had been made to rcenary groups, weapons had been shipped to designated locations—all masked as routine military expenditures.

Bradford and his allies had spared no expense in making this war inevitable.

Vaughn grabbed as many docunts as he could, stuffing them inside his coat. He had what he needed.

Now, he just had to get out.

Vaughn turned toward the door, but his instincts scread at him to stop. Footsteps.

He had seconds to react.

He moved quickly, slipping behind a tall wooden bookshelf just as the door creaked open.

Two voices drifted into the room.

"Bradford wants everything in place by tomorrow," a man said. Vaughn recognized the voice—Senator Macias.

"Does he know about the money transfers?" another voice asked. Vaughn didn’t recognize this one—likely a staffer.

"He doesn’t need to," Macias muttered. "Just make sure everything is wiped clean before the President gets wind of it. The last thing we need is more questions."

The staffer sighed. "I still don’t like this. The Monroe operation is risky. What if soone investigates?"

Macias scoffed. "By the ti anyone investigates, we’ll already be at war. Hesh won’t be in office much longer."

Vaughn stayed perfectly still, heart hamring in his chest. He needed to get out now.

The two n lingered for another minute before finally stepping out and closing the door behind them.

Vaughn exhaled slowly. Then, without wasting another second, he slipped out, locked the door behind him, and walked down the hall as if he belonged there. Stay connected with .Côm

The White House, Oval Office.

Matthew Hesh’s hands trembled as he flipped through the docunts Vaughn had retrieved.

This was it.

Nas. Dates. Paynt trails. Orders for staged attacks. Evidence of direct coordination to fra xico.

Collins leaned over, his expression grim. "This is worse than we thought. They’ve planned everything down to the last detail. If the Monroe operation happens, we’re at war within hours."

Matthew set the papers down, his jaw tightening. "We have to act now."

Collins nodded. "What’s the move?"

Matthew exhaled sharply. He had expected corruption, manipulation—but this? This was an act of war against their own people.

"We go public," Matthew said firmly. "We release everything. The press, the Justice Departnt, military command—everyone sees this before Bradford has a chance to spin it."

Collins hesitated. "Sir, if we do this, it’ll be civil war in Congress. Bradford and his allies will fight back with everything they have."

Matthew t his gaze. "Then we fight harder."

Collins nodded. "I’ll alert the Attorney General. These n need to be arrested."

Matthew turned to Vaughn. "You did good work. But we’re not done yet. We need to make sure they don’t have a chance to cover this up."

Vaughn nodded. "There’s one more thing, sir."

Matthew raised an eyebrow.

Vaughn reached into his coat and pulled out a small recording device.

"I recorded their conversation," Vaughn said. "Macias confird the Monroe attack. It’s all on tape."

Collins let out a breath of relief. "That’s it. That’s everything."

Matthew took the device, gripping it tightly. They had him now. They had them all.

Bradford’s empire of lies was about to collapse.

Matthew Hesh inhaled deeply, pressing the play button on the small recording device. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the desk lamp and the distant murmur of White House staff moving through the halls.

The tape crackled for a mont before the voices ca through—low, confident, filled with the arrogance of n who believed they were untouchable.

"The Monroe operation is risky. What if soone investigates?"

"By the ti anyone investigates, we’ll already be at war. Hesh won’t be in office much longer."

Matthew clenched his fist. The corruption in his own governnt was deeper than he had ever imagined.

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