The room was still reeling from the violent history of Eternal. Ethan’s question—why the fifty million dollar offer?—demanded an explanation.
Old Falcon leaned forward, his expression grim. "That is a known Celestial tactic," Old Falcon revealed, his voice steady once more. "During the years we spent researching them after the massacre, we uncovered this pattern repeatedly. They do not get directly involved in kinetic warfare if they can avoid it. They don’t fight their own battles; they finance rival groups."
"Proxy warfare," Mr. Stone noted, a flash of understanding crossing his face.
"Precisely," Old Falcon confird. "They want to eliminate a rival without expending their own manpower or compromising their political neutrality. They pay others to do the bleeding."
Congressman Thompson imdiately intervened, snapping his fingers as the pieces clicked together. "That makes perfect sense! Olympus has been pressuring this specific Celestial branch heavily."
"How do you know that?" Ethan asked Thompson.
"My sources, independent of this recent acquisition, indicated they’ve faced off several tis recently—minor skirmishes, mostly over contested import zones," Thompson explained. "The conflicts were small, contained violence, but Olympus was clearly trying to gain territory."
"There’s even an unconfird rumor, which I dismissed until now," Thompson continued, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "The rumor is that it’s not Celestial’s own forces that are successfully holding up Olympus’s operations; it’s their allies. People Celestial has previously backed."
"So, they have a problem," Lena Rossi stated, piecing it together. "Olympus is biting into their territory, but Celestial’s corporate structure is too high-profile to retaliate directly without risking political exposure."
"And the reputation risk is too great," Cassandra added. "They can’t afford to be seen massacring rivals, especially after their past with Eternal."
"They want us to do it," Ethan concluded, a cold smile touching his lips. "They see Royal as a violent, local operation, already at war with Olympus, and critically—already facing federal prosecution. We are the perfect expendable hamr to solve their problem."
"They don’t want to get their hands dirty, and they want us to do it for them," Thompson summarized. "I see it now. They aren’t offering us fifty million for protection; they are offering us a contract for assassination.
Ethan processed the revelation about Celestial’s proxy war strategy, his cold smile widening slightly.
"They want us to do their dirty work," Ethan affird, nodding slowly. "They want Royal to beco their executioner’s hamr. And they are offering us a substantial paynt to do it. It is the most cynical and perfect proposal I have ever heard."
"And we are going to accept it?" Lena Rossi asked, her eyebrow raised, though her tone already anticipated the answer.
"Of course, we are going to accept it," Ethan said. "But not as their rcenaries. We will do it on our terms and on our tiline. They will pay for our revenge against Olympus, and we will benefit from their money and their silence."
"Chief, Celestial has a history of brutal betrayal," Cassandra warned, crossing her arms. "If we accept their money, we beco their de facto partners. What happens when Olympus falls, and they decide we are a loose end? Old Falcon experienced that firsthand."
Old Falcon nodded, his face somber. "Cassandra is right. Loyalty does not exist in their code. Their only motivation is political and financial self-preservation."
"I know," Ethan conceded. "But right now, their fear of Olympus is greater than their distrust of us. And we hold the key to their peace of mind: the promise to annihilate their enemies. And if Thompson reaches Governor..."
"If I reach Governor," Thompson interrupted, his voice now calculating. "We can justify any investigation against Celestial with state audits or civil rights investigations. We will use the system they created to destroy them from within, once Olympus is out of our way. Their money will be the ammunition for their own execution."
"And let’s not forget the core of their tactical error," Mr. Stone interjected, tapping the file. "Celestial believes they are financing ’Royal’—a street organization, a local gang that they can control or eliminate later. They don’t realize that Royal is rely the tip of the spear, and they are funding Mr. Ethan —a Blake prisoner with the backing of Thompson and the resources of the Falcon organization."
"Exactly," Ethan said, acknowledging Stone. "They are funding a simple, brute-force answer, unaware they have bought a seat at the table with the very establishnt forces preparing to dismantle them. It is a trap beneath an imprudent action."
"Perfect. Then the long-term strategy is clear," Mr. Stone intervened, shifting back to the imdiate present. "We wait for Thompson, but that doesn’t resolve Jason’s imdiate pressure or the need to send a ssage to Olympus."
"We need to move. Aaron Jenkins. He organized the pizzeria attack. We cannot allow him to feel safe." Jason said.
"Aaron Jenkins will be our first move on this new chessboard," Ethan decided. "It’s a localized action that relieves emotional pressure and demonstrates Royal is still operational, but it reveals the hand of neither Thompson nor Celestial."
"Congressman Thompson," Ethan continued. "I need you to fulfill your word. I need Jenkins’ address and routine. Have Mr. Stone review it. I want a clean strike."
"Consider Jenkins delivered on a silver platter," Thompson said, with a ruthless smile. "You will have the details within the next few hours. Let the strike be so discreet that the governnt only sees a local gang feud, but so brutal that Olympus understands the price of touching us."
"I want this done this week," Ethan ordered. "Let Jenkins be a reminder that we are invincible, even from within this prison."
"Well," Mr. Stone said, gathering his coat. "We should probably retire. If anyone found out we were all here together, they might suppose we have links and break the cover story."
Congressman Thompson, Max, Old Falcon, Mr. Stone, and Director Brown all rose to leave. Handshakes were exchanged, confirming the solid new alliance.
As the political heavyweights headed for the door, Ethan lifted a hand. "Hold on, Cassandra. Lena. Wait a mont," Ethan commanded. "I need to discuss sothing with you two."
The door clicked shut, leaving Ethan, Lena, and Cassandra—plus Hayes standing nearby with jason—alone in the Director’s office.
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