The Distant Crown
The rain had stopped. It stopped abruptly, leaving the cobblestones slick and black. Major Elias Thorne stood by the window. He looked at his hands. They were steady. They were always steady. That was the problem. "Sir," a voice said from the doorway. "They are waiting." Elias did not turn around. "Who?" "The committee. And the press. The cameras are set up in the atrium. The lights are...
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