The Golden Circuit
The banquet hall of the federal facility in Virginia was a cavern of white marble and suspended glass chandeliers, a place where the air was so dry it felt like inhaling sand, and the silence was so thick it had a physical weight, pressing against the eardrums with a dull, persistent throb. Colonel Elias Thorne sat at the head of a long table that gleamed under the harsh, sterile light, his...
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