Semua Bab PERKS OF THE POSITION : Bab 161 - Bab 170

SILVERHospitals smelled different at night.Disinfectant. Cold oxygen. Sterile linen.And underneath it all, that faint metallic scent that never quite left the air when people were fighting for their lives.I walked through the private fourth-floor corridor of the Intensive Care Unit, my footsteps measured against the polished floor.I wore my Rosenberg charcoal coat over dark trousers. My hands were tucked into my pockets, my face expressionless.The entire corridor had been locked down.Eagles Intelligence operatives stood at intervals along the walls, dressed in dark suits with discreet earpieces glowing beneath the fluorescent lights. They didn't stop me. They didn't need to.Each man simply lowered his head as I passed.I stopped outside Room 412.Through the reinforced glass, the room was dim except for the soft green glow of the monitors surrounding the bed.My mother lay beneath the white sheets.Her head was wrapped in sterile bandages, a thin oxygen cannula resting beneath

VERONICA My head felt like someone had moved into my skull overnight and decided to renovate it with a hammer.Every heartbeat sent a dull pulse of pain through my temples. My left arm was trapped inside a bulky cast, my neck was locked inside a ridiculous foam brace, and my mouth tasted like I'd been chewing cotton.I was awake.I was uncomfortable.And, most importantly, I was extremely annoyed."Alexander."My voice came out rough and dry.Across the room, Alexander practically launched himself off the small couch.He'd been sitting there with a paper cup of what looked like lukewarm tea, but the moment he heard my voice, he jumped so quickly that half of it splashed onto his trousers."Veronica."He hurried to my bedside.For a moment, he just stood there staring at me, as though he couldn't quite believe I was awake. His shirt was still wrinkled and torn at the collar, two buttons were missing, and dark stubble covered his jaw. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep.He look

GERALDAfternoon sunlight slipped through the heavy blinds, cutting the hospital room into long strips of gold and shadow.For the first time since the accident, we were alone.Carolina and Catya had left twenty minutes earlier, claiming they needed to deal with the administrative disaster waiting for them in Whitehall.In reality, Veronica had stared at them until Carolina finally sighed, opened the door, and dragged Catya out with her.Julian had already returned to St. Gallen.Knowing him, he was probably sitting on an express train with his slate open, rearranging some unfortunate country's financial projections while pretending to study.That left Veronica and me.She was propped against two enormous pillows, her silver-rimmed glasses balanced perfectly on her nose. Her right hand moved steadily across an encrypted tablet while her left arm rested in its cast.The foam brace around her neck forced her to sit unnaturally straight.Even injured, she somehow managed to look like she

GERALDThe call came while Veronica was asleep.I remembered Veronica sleeping.Her breathing had finally settled into a slow, even rhythm. The harsh lines of pain had disappeared from her face, and one hand rested beneath her cheek while the other remained loosely curled around the blanket.For the first time since the crash, she looked peaceful.Then Norton's phone rang.He answered.I watched his expression change. Norton was not a man who frightened easily. He had spent twenty years walking into rooms where governments were collapsing and emerging with his tie still straight but whatever he heard through that phone made the color drain from his face.He looked at me."Mr. President."I stood."What happened?"He hesitated for less than a second."Julian."Everything inside me went still."Where is my son?""St. Gallen."My chair scraped violently against the floor as I rose."What happened?"Norton swallowed."Rosenberg Academy lost contact with its internal security network seve

GERALDRain had been falling for hours.It battered the floor-to-ceiling windows of St. Jude, turning the grounds beyond the glass into a blur of black trees and silver water.Normally, I found the sound calming.Tonight, it only reminded me of the highway and the accident.Julian disappearing from my sight.Veronica lying unconscious in my arms.I stood behind the enormous oak desk in the library, my tactical jacket abandoned over the back of a chair. My shirt was open at the throat, sleeves rolled to my elbows. The library door opened.Norton walked in.He looked almost as bad as I felt.His coat was still damp from the rain, his tie hung crookedly around his neck, and a shallow cut ran across his cheek.He held a tactical slate in one hand."Mr. President.""Norton."He stopped several feet from the desk."The Swiss authorities have agreed to route the incident through our private liaison channels. The three surviving operatives are in custody. Our people have already taken contr