} }

“Simple,” Leo said, ejecting the drive. “Vote against the new surveillance authorization next week. Kill the maritime domain awareness bill. And resign by Friday. Not for corruption—just say you want to spend time with your grandkids.”

Leo’s hands were steady. They had to be. He loaded the USB drive—a matte black, anonymous stick—into the slot on the back of the conference room’s Sony Bravia. The screen flickered, then displayed a single folder labeled: Project Chimera – Full Spec.

“That’s deepfake,” Vane whispered, but he didn't reach for his phone. He didn't call his lawyer. He just stared.

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