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This is how things played out, so far as they could gather: At so point after the UT Massacre, Echo and his People began to reach out. Sotis it was to old allies, lifeti politicians who rembered past favors or long-lost promises. Sotis it was to new faces, tentative feelers in the shape of anonymous letters and quiet visits. Sotis it was to the young, those raised by forr supporters who, for one reason or another, weren't capable of aiding the cause at that particular point in ti.

Hatred, much like dreams, was passed on from one era to the next. In these fresh faces, the People found reinforcents, willing and able to serve. With the revival of Champion, with the People coming to the fore, those old stories grandpa used to tell suddenly seed a lot more compelling. The words of family, as they often did, overrode any protests from the governnt and the dia. Champion was no murderer. Those things they said about him must be a lie. And so, a whole new generation, never before involved and thus impossible to track down, was quietly indoctrinated into the ranks of the People.

This was obviously a problem, but not one that needed imdiate redress. Young and inexperienced recruits, grown up in a ti of relative peace—comparatively speaking—were not likely to jump straight to terrorism and mass murder. They would take things in steps; a little vandalism here, a little theft there, nothing dangerous or lethal right up until it was. But that could wait. The real problem, the imdiate one, was a man nad riwether Madison.

Senator riwether Madison of Pennsylvania was a career politician, and the second longest serving senator at sixty-four years and change. He was a foundation of the United States' Senate in the sa way as the flags and the podium. He was also over a hundred years old, a World War II veteran, and a Natural. He'd been a known supporter of Champion, if not the People as a whole, a vocal opponent of the Vigilante acts, and had apparently t with Echo at least three tis since the People had embraced dostic terrorism.

Anastasia described the man as a, "Crusty old fogey, stuck fast in his ways, but at least he's consistent."

Dan couldn't tell if that was ant to be a complint or not. He was certainly dangerous enough for Anastasia to respect. From the dossier he'd been provided, Madison's Natural ability involved so kind of empowernt from nature, or perhaps just plants, the details were a little fuzzy. Whatever it was, it granted him health and long life. Though he'd passed his first century, Madison looked to be a well-preserved seventy. He could be found walking unaided every morning, just inside the borders of his massive property.

Senator Madison's ho really put the 'sylvania' in Pennsylvania. It was a seventy acre paradise of trees and adows and shrubbery. It was positioned about half an hour outside of Harrisburg, just a little dirt road peeling off into the wilderness, with a stream running through it. It was probably the most beautiful countryside Dan had ever seen, and he'd only ever seen it from above. First in a publicly available satellite photo, the second from a drone courtesy of Anastasia. If riwether Madison was empowered by the nature surrounding him, he'd never be more powerful than in his own ho.

He lived in what might generously be called a log cabin, but with its proportions stretched into wild impracticality. Each stacked trunk was the size of a young redwood, layered two dozen tall with windows cut out at set intervals. The door was a solid chunk of burnished wood attached by a pair of bulky hinges. The inside was mostly a mystery, even to Anastasia. She'd yet to fabricate a reason to wander past his property and examine it with her own power, and was operating under the assumption that he could actively control the forest around him.

"He can probably sense through the trees as well, even the dead ones," Anastasia added, passing Dan another photograph of the house. This one was zood in on an open window, though it was little more than blotchy pixels. She tapped what looked like a brown smudge. "All the furniture we've seen is made of wood."

Another picture, this ti of Senator Madison himself. He was a stately old man, silver-grey hair swept back and an aristocratic face. Anastasia gestured to the perfectly tailored suit he wore and said, "His clothes are all made from natural fibers. From hat to shoes, even his glasses have wooden fras. It's quite telling."

"Okay," Dan said, squinting at the picture. Try as he might, he couldn't tell the difference. "I guess that makes slipping a bug into his ho a bit tricky. How did you find out about his etings with Echo?"

"Madison is a governnt official. He posted the etings on his public itinerary. Three etings over the past thirty years, and that's just what we've been able to find. Echo used a different alias each ti, but so exhaustive investigation has cast those identities into enough doubt that I'm sure it was him. Echo can change his face; Madison has the perfect defense if ever confronted. He can just claim he didn't know, and make up whatever he likes about the etings' contents."

Dan nodded, a little absently. He was trying to work out the tiline in his head. "So... Echo ets with Madison a few tis over the years, presumably to secure support for his movent. Madison doesn't report the etings, either because he doesn't know, or is aligned with their views. He uses his influence to plant moles in various federal agencies, one of which is Dunkirk. We capture Dunkirk, and Madison knows his man is going to rat him out. He sends assassins, and when that doesn't work, he arranges for that ss in mphis?"

Dan glanced to Anastasia, eyebrow raised. "That about sum things up?"

"More or less." Anastasia was smiling in an eerily cheerful way. "You're missing the most important part."

Dan frowned, looked for holes in his thinking. He found it quickly, the answer to a question he hadn't realized he'd been asking himself.

"Echo doesn't know," Dan guessed. "That's why he left the video of himself. It was ant to be a threat, in case it was so kind of governnt false-flag op." Dan glanced at her. "That's why you said it was a mistake. He doesn't know his own ally set it up."

"Not much of an ally, if I'm right," Anastasia replied with a snort. "But this is politics, Daniel. There are no allies, only interests. In that mont, Madison's did not align with the People's."

"But where did the False Cannibal co from?" Dan asked. "Did Madison have access to the Fridge?"

"I don't know," Anastasia said with a vicious grin, "but I am so very looking forward to finding out."

"And to do that, you need to slip so bugs into his house and a tracker onto his person," Dan finished, nodding his head. "All without him noticing, while presuming he can sense through his clothes, furniture, and pretty much everything surrounding his ho."

"Yes," Anastasia confird.

"Well," Dan mused, rubbing his chin, "I can see why you would need for that."

He eyed the blurry picture of the house. He would have to open a viewing door inside the house, and take a look around. No. Before that, he'd have to find out if Madison could sohow sense his veil. Dan assud it was impossible, but better safe than sorry. Especially when they had no idea what kind of range limits they might be working with.

"Where is he now?" Dan asked.

Anastasia checks her watch, then quickly flicked through one of her folders. The two of them were currently sequestered inside a secure office within one of Sumrset Corp's many holdings. It was a large facility that processed silicon for use in microchips; this particular location was just outside New York City. Dan planned on stopping by Tis Square for a pizza after the eting.

Anastasia grunted in triumph and produced a sheet of paper. She ran her finger down the lines of text; it was a schedule.

"He's in D.C. at the mont," she explained, tapping a line. "He's at a lunch eting right at this mont. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking," Dan said slowly, unspooling his veil and allowing it to bubble off his skin, "I should go poke him with a stick."

The easiest way to test if Madison could sense Dan's power? Stab him with it and see if he flinches.

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