AUTHOR'S NOTES: Another talky chapter here tonight, but Jacques' dinner party is a lot of talking. It's like they're politicians, or something.

Schnee Manor North

Zagan, Republic of Poland

20 August 2001

Ruby Flight managed to all get into the SUV at Zagan Airfield, though Yang ended up squeezed between Oscar and Weiss. Blake, the only one of them with a driver's license good in the EU, had volunteered to drive. Ruby had called shotgun before they had even climbed into Ironwood's personal C-21 Learjet for the short flight between Poznan and Zagan. "You know, if someone told me I was going to end up as the meat in an Oscar and Weiss sandwich," Yang quipped, "then I would have worn some lingerie or something."

Blake glanced at Ruby as she turned onto the long road to the Schnee summer home, which was to the west of Zagan proper. "Ruby? Are you okay?"

"Sure," Ruby replied, turning a little pink. "Why?"

"Well, you've had this weird expression on your face, like you're preoccupied or something? Anything we can do?"

Ruby assumed an angelic expression. "Nope! I'm fine, Blake. Just a bit nervous about tonight, that's all!" She tapped the rows of ribbons over her left breast. "Y'know, with all these shiny new medals and all…" Oscar studiously looked elsewhere to hide the blush on his cheeks.

Blake was still giving Ruby a curious look. Before Yang noticed, Weiss came to the rescue of her wingmate. "Only my father would pull something like this."

Ruby resolved to get something Weiss nice from the base exchange next time the opportunity came up. "On the news, he just said he wanted to have a nice dinner and hash things out with General Ironwood. Maybe it won't be so bad? Transparency would be nice, right?"

Blake and Yang shared a surreptitious glance. "Sure, but on his terms," Weiss said. "Ironwood's going to be locked in a room at his rival's own dinner party, with a bunch of EU Councilpeople and Robyn Hill. Other than my sister, Penny and maybe Clover—none of whom have any standing—he won't have a friend in the room. My father says he wants to moderate, but that just means he'll control and steer the conversation."

"Not hard to imagine how that's gonna play out," Yang observed.

"I still can't believe he won. Sure, Robyn was a little behind, but she had the momentum." Weiss sighed. "Too many coincidences."

"You think your dad cheated?" Oscar asked.

"I don't know."

"The voting machines are made by a division of the Schnee company," Blake pointed out.

"Yes, but my father's not computer savvy enough to do it himself. And it would be too easy to get caught. If he did, they'd boot him off the Council in a second. My father tends not to take risks." Weiss thought about it for a moment. "But he's wanted a career in politics for years. He's not content with running the largest company in Europe. It's his personality to do whatever it takes to win. He wants to be remembered in the same sentence as Nicholas Schnee."

"And we should do the same," Ruby said. "Do whatever it takes."

Blake raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Well…Weiss, no one knows your dad better than you, and you wouldn't be trespassing if you, y'know, snuck around the house and see if you could break into your dad's computer."

"That's called breaking the law," Yang reminded her sister.

"Only if Weiss gets caught!" Ruby had a somewhat strange interpretation of the law.

"My father's too smart to leave incriminating evidence around," Weiss said. "I could, but what would be the point?"

"Aw, Weiss!" Ruby whined.

"Look, let's just go there, eat a bunch of food at Schnee expense, and go home," Oscar advised. "We're fighter pilots, not ninjas."

Ruby Flight's SUV parked behind a caravan of others. From the first one flew the NATO and four-star flags, marking Ironwood's personal vehicle with himself, Winter and Qrow; behind it were three unmarked cars, carrying Penny and Norn Flight, Ace Flight, and Robyn Hill and her command staff. Ironwood stepped out of his vehicle, and adjusted his uniform. There were media present, and Ironwood pasted on his friendliest smile and waved. Winter, stepping out behind him, did no such thing, and stared at the reporters like she would very much like to kill them. "Winter," Ironwood murmured out of one side of his mouth, "smile for the cameras."

"I wasn't issued a smile, sir," she replied, and strode into her family's summer home.

Ironwood blew out his breath; it was going to be a long night. He turned to Robyn Hill, who looked even less pleased than Winter; she wasn't smiling for the cameras either. "Glad you could make it, Robyn."

She did smile at that—sardonically. "It is a change from having your fighter pilots trying to hunt me down and kill me."

Ironwood showed her towards the door. "We'll speak about that."

"We damn sure will," she shot back, and brushed past him.

As Ruby Flight walked through the front door, Weiss nearly collided with her brother. "Good evening, everyone. I'm Whitley Schnee," he introduced himself to the rest of the flight.

"Where's Klein?" Weiss snapped, a little harsher than she meant to.

"That's an interesting way of saying 'Hello, dear brother, how have you been?'" Whitley told his sister. "Klein's gone. Father let him go. You can guess why."

"Schiesse," Weiss said under her breath. She had wondered if Jacques had been lying to her, but it appeared that, for once, her father had been telling the truth. Somehow he had learned of Klein's role in her escape—but he evidently hadn't heard of Whitley's role, which was actually more involved. Could Whitley have thrown Klein to the wolves? Accused Klein to save himself? Weiss couldn't be sure, and realized she really didn't know her own brother as well as she knew people she'd only been with for a few months.

She opened her mouth to say something, only to find Whitley distracted by the sheer number of people that were following Ironwood in—fourteen in total. He was particularly distracted by Pyrrha, but few men weren't. Ironwood was waiting by the front door. "General, exactly how large do you think our dining room table is?" Whitley exclaimed.

Ironwood laughed. "I happen to know it's enormous, but most of my guests will remain out here in the foyer, in case the Council needs additional eyewitnesses. Until then, I'm sure they'll be happily celebrating your father's, ah, victory." He left enough ambiguity on the last word to be noticed.

Whitley chuckled, and motioned for the others to move into the huge foyer. The summer home was only a third of the size of Herrenchiemsee, but that was still quite large. Nicholas Schnee had built this one, and it resembled a traditional European hunting lodge—high wooden walls and ceiling, an ornate carved stairway heading up to the second floor of private rooms, with the dining room behind the stairwell. Heads of animals decorated the walls. There were other guests there as well, most of whom Weiss recognized as perennial hangers-on, cronies of the Schnee family that usually showed up for events such as this, mainly for the free food and the desire to rub elbows with the so-called elite of European society. She had loathed them as a child, and adulthood had not changed her opinion.

Whitley then began leading people towards the dining room, followed by Ironwood, Winter, Penny, and Clover. Penny was staring at everything in wide-eyed wonder, and Weiss noticed that Winter didn't even acknowledge Whitley; then again, there never was much love lost between the youngest and the oldest of the Schnee siblings. Clover winked at Pyrrha. "Wish us luck."

"They've got you, don't they?" Pyrrha smiled back. Clover laughed and threw her a wave.

Nora smirked at Pyrrha. "Pyrrha's on the prowl?" The other woman blushed. She looked at her friend in alarm, and Nora nudged her. "Good for you."

"N-Nothing's happening—"

"Uh-huh." Nora wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, while Ren rolled his eyes.

Qrow surveyed the proceedings with faint disgust. The place smelled like hypocrisy, and he wished he was somewhere else—such as fighting a horde of GRIMM armed with a fork. The only good thing that was going to come out of tonight, he thought, was that he was going to get to help Winter out of her dress uniform later.

"Care for a drink, sir?" The Faunus waiter had the tone of voice of bored waiters around the world.

"Uh, no. No thanks." The waiter moved on, and he caught the eye of Ruby across the room. She smiled at him, and that meant the world. "Think I'll go hit the hors d'oeuvers."

"Words right out of my mouth," Marrow Amin agreed, and followed him. Harriet looked at Ruby Flight, hands on her hips. "All right, you," she addressed them, as if she had the authority to do so, "don't wander off, don't break anything, and be ready in case the general calls on you." With that, she also headed for the food.

Vine raised an eyebrow, and Elm grinned. "Eat 'em out of house and home," she said, and threw Ruby Flight a thumbs-up.

Yang stared after Harriet, then gave her friends an impish smirk. "So what I heard was wander off, break shit, and not give a fuck."

"Don't you dare," Weiss told her. "You and Blake are still in hack, remember? Ironwood might bust you down a rank."

"Takes an act of Congress, Weissy."

Weiss moved towards the stairs—more to maneuver around an enormous woman than because she intended to go up the stairs—only to be intercepted by Whitley. "I thought we might have a chance to catch up, Weiss."

Jacques Schnee got to his feet as Ironwood, Winter, Penny and Robyn walked into the dining room. Fiona, May and Joanna had remained not just outside in the foyer, but outside the house, clearly in case Robyn needed to make a quick escape. Ironwood was mildly surprised to see that Jacques was flanked only by two EU Councilmembers—Reinhard Sleet of Germany and Camilla Dias of Spain. That either meant that Jacques was very confident in his victory, or he had less support than he let on. Ironwood nodded to both of them and took a seat, opposite Jacques at the end of the long table. Penny, Clover and Winter sat, but Robyn remained standing, noticeably close to an open window. "Miss Hill," Jacques said.

"Councilman Schnee," Robyn returned, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Though Councilwoman Hill would have a nice ring to it, now that I consider it." She smiled as Jacques' face darkened with anger. "I suppose I should just be grateful I got invited to the table, instead of thrown in prison." She took a seat.

Jacques recovered nicely. "Miss Hill, that vigor of yours is preceisely why we're grateful to have you with us here tonight. I'm sure this should assuage the general's fears that you or your Huntresses were behind the tragic loss of the American transport last night." Ironwood managed to control himself, but Winter gave a start of surprise. No one had released the information to the public about Robyn's supposed involvement in the C-141 shootdown. "Now then, James, we have much to discuss before we eat. We need to address the concerns of the European Union."

"Indeed we do," Ironwood agreed. "I was hoping we could start by—"

"Are we safe with her here, by the way?" Jacques cut him off and nodded at Penny. "She does seem to attract trouble. She also looks remarkably spry for someone who is supposed to be dead, so tragically killed near Chicago a few months ago." Penny's eyebrows went together in anger, but Winter quietly put a hand on her wrist.

"Yes, about that," Ironwood said smoothly. "Penny Polendina survived the crash of her B-1, as incredible as it seems. Given everything that happened in the wake of the Battle of Beacon, my government thought it best to keep it quiet, for Lieutenant Polendina's safety as well as others." Penny was wearing her borrowed USAF lieutnant's uniform tonight.

"A cover-up," Sleet observed.

"Yes, unfortunately so," Ironwood replied.

"I'm glad you admit to it," Jacques said. "Now let's talk about exactly what else you've covered up."

Weiss had managed to get around Whitley long enough to grab a drink, but he stayed on her like a lamprey. "Weiss, quit avoiding me," he said softly.

She pulled him to one of the stairs' ornate balustrades, where no one could hear them. "Did you get Klein fired?"

"No," Whitley told her. "Klein took all the blame. He insisted on it, Weiss. He said Mother and Father needed me here."

"Winter told me Father made you the sole heir to the company, complete with your own parking space at Schnee GmbH headquarters in Munich." Weiss sipped her martini. "Forgive me if that seems a bit suspicious."

He grabbed her wrist, and Weiss gasped in surprise. "Listen to me, dammit," he hissed. "I had nothing to do with Klein. I didn't have to help you, Weiss, but I did. Now if you're going to play the bitch, fine, but before you do, there's something I have to tell you."

"What? Let go!" Weiss tried to pull away.

"There was a man at Herrenchiemsee, just before the election. He knew Father. I don't know who he was. Listen!" Whitley insisted. "You know there's cameras all over the manor. I think Father's computer will access the files." He inclined his head towards the stairs. "The one in his office here is remotely connected to the one at Herrencheimsee."

Weiss stopped struggling. "You're serious."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Whitley met her eyes, ice-blue on ice-blue. "Weiss, you think it's been easy being here while you and Winter traipse around the world? Give me the chance to do something right, for once." He sighed. "Or look at it this way. If Father goes down, I get sole control of the company as soon as I'm seventeen, which is next year."

"All right," Weiss whispered, and Whitley let her go. "I believe you." She glanced at the guards in the foyer. They were both Schnee private security, placed where they were not easily noticed, but where they could prevent anyone going up the stairs. "We need a distraction—"

She was interrupted by the arrival of Yang Xiao Long. She was taller than Whitley, and regarded the heir to the Schnee fortune the same way a shark would look at a tuna. "There a problem here?" She flexed the fingers on her artificial hand.

"Perfect," Weiss remarked with a savage grin. "Yang, we need a distraction. Whitley, kiss her."

Both Whitley and Yang stared at her for a moment, then Whitley figured out what Weiss was doing. He grabbed Yang's cheeks and kissed her. Yang's eyes widened in surprise. "Hit me," Whitley murmured through the kiss, and Yang obliged. Her metal hand rocketed upwards and sent Whitley flying. He collided with the large woman Weiss had gotten around earlier, and knocked her headfirst into the punch bowl. The punch flew out and covered them both; the big woman screamed, although most of it had landed on Whitley. He got up with the utmost dignity. "My apologies, Major Xiao Long," he said. "I misinterpreted your signals." He looked directly at Yang's copious bosom.

Yang stepped forward. "What, just because I'm blonde and got big tits, you thought you could just kiss me? And it's Captain Xiao Long, you little shit!" Another step. "I oughta knock you through that wall!"

Whitley, dripping with punch, shrank back against the table as security moved in. Ruby and Blake, who managed to pick up on what was going on, made a huge show of restraining Yang.

In the confusion, no one noticed Weiss go up the stairs.

"The fact of the matter is," Sleet said, as the salads arrived, "you've operated with a fair amount of autonomy for the past few months, General. But we need you to work with us, now."

Ironwood opened his mouth to reply, but Camilla cut him off. "General, we fail to see the threat of the GRIMM that is supposedly there, the one that made you deploy so many men and materiel to Europe. Yes, the attack on Beacon was terrible, but that was on the United States, not us. The attack on Japan was foiled. So we've seen two major GRIMM attacks in the past few months, along with the White Fang. But the White Fang is largely destroyed, and from your own public relations officer, the GRIMM threat is at its lowest level in weeks. At this point, the closure of our borders is only serving to hurt the EU."

"I would agree with that last—" Ironwood began.

It was Robyn that cut him off this time. "As I recall, Councilwoman Dias, that embargo could be ended tonight. By the people in this room." She looked pointedly at Jacques.

"Quite right, Miss Hill." Robyn blinked in surprise as Jacques agreed with her. "And I'm afraid there's more than just your choices that have brought harm to our citizens as of late, James. Have your forces found any additional evidence as to who has been murdering those who speak out against you? Or who opened fire on Miss Hill's rally the other night?"

"What's happened in Berlin is a civilian police matter, not a military one," Clover answered. "As for the attack on the rally, we have been assisting the Poznan police, but right now, the investigation remains classified—the same as the investigation into the C-141 shootdown, though Miss Hill has been cleared of wrongdoing."

"I'm rather afraid of the ever-growing list of classified information you seem to be keeping," Jacques replied. "Are you saying that you don't trust us?"

Winter suddenly shot out of her chair, banging her fist on the table so hard that the plates jumped. "You can't buy trust like everything else!" she shouted. "You have to earn trust!"

Jacques had not jumped; instead, he regarded his eldest calmly. "I couldn't have said it better myself." The even voice instantly took the wind out of Winter's sails. "James, if I may be blunt…" He folded his hands on the table. "You have spent what little trust the Council had left in you as Supreme Allied Commander Europe. Your track record is remarkably poor over the last few months, is it not? A failure to predict either the White Fang or the GRIMM attack on Beacon? The use of banned orbital weapons—yes, I know it was poor Captain Ozpin that gave that order, but something tells me you knew of the Fall Maiden's existence before it was used. You deployed the Reforger divisions here in what seems to us to be overcompensation for your earlier failures."

Winter looked like she was going to leap across the table and throttle her father. "You son of a—"

"Winter." Ironwood did not raise his voice, but it held the steel of command. "Enough."

She looked from him to her father, then pushed her chair back. "Excuse me. I need some air. The atmosphere in here is poisonous." She stalked out the door. Penny, after a moment of hesitation, got up and followed her.

Weiss walked quickly down the hall leading from the stairway—it made a square around the second floor. In the hallway were paintings and pictures she recognized: one of herself and her father, when his hair was still black and her ponytail was still perfectly centered. There was another of her great-grandfather, in a German Luftwaffe uniform, the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross with Oakleaves, Swords and Diamonds at his throat. Another of Nicholas Schnee, shaking hands with a smiling Faunus outside a coal mine. A picture of a young Whitley at a piano. Her parents' wedding pictures.

Weiss was distracted enough that she nearly ran down a short girl with dark hair, dressed in a waitress uniform. "Oh, excuse me."

The waitress curtseyed. "Of course. Miss Schnee, is everything okay?"

"I'm fine, thank you. Keep up the great work." Weiss moved on. Behind her, Neo Politan caressed the hilt of a knife fastened to her wrist, underneath the cuff, gave the matter some thought, decided against murder, and walked away.

Weiss finally found her father's office and went in; luckily, it was unlocked. Softly, she opened and closed it, turned around, and nearly suffered heart failure. A figure was standing next to the desk, tall, thin, and white-haired—her mother, Willow Schnee.

Winter paced the hallway outside the dining room, trying to get her temper under control. "Colonel Schnee?" She looked up to see Penny staring at her, concern in her expressive green eyes. "Are you okay?"

The eldest Schnee sister took a deep breath. "I'll be fine. I just…let my emotions get the better of me in there."

"What do you mean?" Penny asked innocently.

"You wouldn't understand!" Winter barked.

Penny took a step back, then realized what Winter meant. "Oh…of course. Because of who I am."

"What? What you—" Winter saw that her words had been misinterpreted. "No, Penny, that's not it. I apologize. It's just that…this place…" She waved her hands around "…this place holds a lot of memories for me. None of them good. I thought I was in control, but you heard me. I sounded like a damned child." She thumped a fist into the wall.

Penny shrugged. "I thought you sounded just fine. You were speaking from your heart."

"Yes, and that is precisely the problem," Winter told her. "Penny, I am a Colonel of the Luftwaffe. It is not my place. I should have remained silent and stayed in line."

Penny was silent for a moment. "You're right. I don't understand." She moved past Winter and walked into the foyer.

As Weiss got closer, she saw that her mother was not so much standing next to the desk but holding onto it. Then she saw the bottle of clear liquid, and the glass: vodka. A third of it was gone. Willow was not drunk, but she was well on the way. "I'm sorry I'm not at the banquet," she apologized. "I'm afraid I'm not really feeling well."

"It's okay, Mom. It's fine." It really wasn't, Weiss thought to herself. Willow had managed to stay sober for awhile while Weiss had been at Herrencheimsee. Jacques had been telling the truth about that, too—Willow had started drinking again.

"What are you doing here?" Willow asked.

"I need to use Father's computer." Weiss decided to be truthful to her mother: Willow might be an alcoholic, but she was still her mother—and still had a mother's sense of when her children were lying.

"Why?"

"Because I think he may have done something very wrong."

Willow chuckled and poured herself a drink. "I think that's a safe assumption most of the time."

"This time I want to do something about it." Weiss moved towards the desk, but to her surprise, Willow blocked her. She tossed back the vodka and poured another glass. "Mother…"

"His computer is password locked. Even I don't know it." Willow swirled the liquor in her glass, and suddenly smiled. "But…he still has his blind spots." She stepped back, and shuffled some papers aside, exposing a laptop. "This is mine." She opened the laptop, typed in a few commands, and turned it around so Weiss could see. "You know that there are cameras installed throughout Herrencheimsee. I installed them, just in case…something should happen. To me."

Weiss' eyes widened. "Mother…Father hasn't…he hasn't beaten you, has he?"

Willow laughed, a little too loudly. "Him? Never. At least he's never tried that. No, I was afraid that I might pass out somewhere, and be forgotten…" Her voice trailed off, and she stared at the vodka. "In any case, Whitley probably told you a man came by a week or so ago." She brought up a folder marked VIDEO 2 and began playing it. "His name is Arthur Watts. Have you heard of him?"

Winter had composed herself and returned, though Penny had not. Now she looked at Ironwood, who was visibly starting to get annoyed.

Sleet and Camilla were continuing their interrogation. "General, since the day you were appointed SACEUR, you have had many Europeans who question your fitness to command," Sleet was saying.

"I don't recall them having a voice in the matter," Ironwood replied tightly. "SACEUR has always been an American, since Dwight Eisenhower. It is a military matter, not a civilian one. The embargo was your idea of protest, not mine."

"That is true," Camilla said. "But the position of Supreme Allied Commander implies there are allies to consult and liaise with, General. And you, frankly, have been doing neither. Reforger was enacted without consulting with any of the NATO nations, save Poland. You forced our hand."

"That's not true," Ironwood countered. "No, I didn't consult with the NATO nations, because I don't have to. Poland and Germany have allowed Reforger deployments for decades, ever since the Third World War. Even before it!" The general pointed at Jacques. "This was his idea, to portray himself as the savior of Europe from the big mean Americans. Nothing more and nothing less. And for some reason, you're going along with it."

"Because the Americans shattered every treaty on orbital weapons!" Sleet shot back. "My God, General, we finally rid ourselves of the curse of nuclear weapons after nearly destroying humanity with them, and we find out that you Americans have been orbiting—whatever this…this Maiden thing is! You didn't disarm yourselves of nuclear weapons, you put them into orbit!"

Ironwood hesitated. He had to tread a razor's edge here: Europe had the Winter Maiden orbital platform as well, but no one in this room knew that—the only civilians that knew about the Maidens were the President of the EU, and Pietro Polendina. "The Fall Maiden is non-nuclear, Councilman Sleet. It uses kinetic bolts."

"Semantics, General!"

Winter poked at her congealed salad, then noticed her father had been silent for a moment. One of the house staff was whispering in Jacques' ear. He suddenly recoiled. "What? When? How?" Winter strained to hear, but Sleet and Ironwood were still arguing. Then she heard her father's voice raise. "My authorization? That's impossible! Check it again!"

His voice was loud enough that Sleet paused to look at him. "Councilman Schnee?"

Jacques whirled around in his chair, surprised, as the staffer left. "Um…yes! Yes! I, ah, agree with everything, everything that was, uh, just said. No, ah, no further questions." He adjusted his clip-on tie, suddenly nervous.

"Then I suppose it's my turn…finally." Robyn had been silent, eating her food, and listening. Now she had the opening she was waiting for. "General Ironwood. You're afraid of something, aren't you?"

"I think that's pretty obvious, Miss Hill." Ironwood was oddly grateful for the interruption and change in tack. "I'm trying to prevent a second Beacon from happening right here, in Poland."

"And I agree with you." Robyn looked back at the three Councilmembers. "Unlike these fat-bottomed sods, I've seen the GRIMM, up close and personal. And while the attacks have ceased over the past week, the week that Ruby and Norn Flights arrived saw one of the largest GRIMM attacks this year. Luckily, it was stopped, by them and Penny Polendina, but a week or two pause is hardly grounds for breaking out the bubbly." She took a drink for emphasis. "Rather cheap champagne, Jacques. In any case, that said, you could trust others, General. Fat-bottomed they may be, but Herr Sleet and Senora Dias have always been, generally speaking, sympathetic to the threat we face out here. Herr Schnee never has, but he's an idiot." Schnee growled at that, but Robyn ignored him. "Instead, your actions have been that of someone who's hiding something."

"I'm not hiding anything, Robyn," Ironwood answered.

"Oh?" Robyn finished her champagne. "So what is Commando Solo?"

Ironwood's mouth dropped, but before he could answer her, the door burst open behind Jacques. Everyone in the room jumped this time, and Ironwood's hand fell to the empty holster at his side from instinct. Weiss Schnee ran into the room, holding an open laptop. "Wait!" she yelled. "You're interrogating the wrong man!"

"Weiss?" Jacques asked, half in shock, half in anger. "What is the meaning of this?"

Weiss ignored him as well. She set the laptop on the table. "I know who has been framing the general, and who rigged the election. And so does my father—because he's been working with him."

"What are you talking about?" Jacques raised his voice. "Security! Get in here and escort my delusional daughter out!"

Winter got up and walked to the open door, stood there, and folded her arms across her chest. One security man appeared, took one look at Winter's icy stare, and shut the doors. She turned back to Weiss, who typed in some commands and brought up the video her mother had recorded.

Camilla leaned forward, intrigued despite herself. "Who is that?"

"His name is Arthur Watts," Weiss told them, relaying what Willow had said. "He used to be one of the leading scientists in Europe, specializing in electronics and aerospace. The word 'genius' has been used about him, along with the words 'corrupt' and 'twisted.'"

Sleet shook his head. "Miss Schnee, I know of Arthur Watts. He did a lot of work for both British Aerospace and Schnee GmbH. I have a lot of investments in aerospace, and I met Watts on several occasions. Your description of him is not inaccurate, but he died in a plane crash years ago."

"What—what is this?" Jacques demanded. He started rising out of his chair, only to be pushed down into it by Winter.

"Play it," Ironwood ordered. Weiss complied, and the image unfroze.

"That bastard is costing me more money every day with this damned embargo," Jacques Schnee said in the recording.

"Which, as I recall, was your idea in the first place," said Arthur Watts.

"Yes! Because after the Americans made fools of themselves at Beacon, I thought I could take advantage of that for votes! I'd end the embargo tomorrow if I wasn't trying to get this damn Council seat."

"Well, now, we don't want to do that." Watts sat down on a couch and began toying with a chess set, picking up the black queen. Ironwood's eyes widened at that, and Winter saw his fists clench and began to shake. "Jacques, as one old friend to another…" Watts was saying, "how would you like to have your cake and eat it too?"

In the video, Jacques stood, poured himself some brandy, and took up a seat opposite of Watts, who continued to play with the black queen. "I'm listening, God knows why."

"These fools in the EU never recognized my genius. They sold out to that idiot Yank cripple, Polendina. To be crude, Jacques, they fucked me. So I would like to give them a royal fucking right back."

"What's in it for me?" Jacques asked.

"A seat on the Council." Watts put down the black queen. "All I need is your login credentials for the entire Schnee GmbH company network. All of it." He pointed at Jacques. "You promise to make Ironwood's life a living nightmare, and I will guarantee you victory at the polls. Oh, you're leading now, but this upstart bint Robyn Hill has the wind at her back, and I think she will eke out a victory. So if she gets close, I'll give the voters in Poland a little digital push, if you like."

"How many votes?" Jacques wanted to know.

"Well, it depends on the margin," Watts replied. "But I think forty thousand would be easy enough to program in." Robyn and Ironwood immediately looked at each other.

Jacques held up his tumbler of brandy and clinked it against Watts'. "I always knew you were a good scientist, Arthur…but I never knew you were such a good salesman."

"We've heard enough," Ironwood said, and Weiss paused the video. Everyone looked at Jacques. He glanced around frantically, noticeably sweating. "I…ah…I can explain that."

"This should be bloody fascinating," Robyn observed.

"Well, that's not real. It's…well, it must be computer generated or something!" Jacques adjusted his tie.

"In about twenty years, I might believe that." Ironwood stood and walked around to Jacques' seat. "I knew you were a piece of shit, Jacques. I knew you'd do anything to get what you wanted—fame, fortune, legacy. But this? Conspiring with Watts?"

Jacques nervously laughed. "This…this is all a great leap of logic, James! Why would I do that?"

"It's actually quite simple," Ironwood continued. "Arthur Watts is the man behind the Black Queen virus. He's the one who shut off the radar at Putgarten last night, allowing whoever it was to shoot down the C-141." He glanced at Robyn. "You asked me to stop hiding things, Robyn. Very well. We know who opened fire on your rally the other night. His name is Tyrian Callows, a serial killer." Sleet's eyebrows rose; he'd heard that name as well. "Much like Watts, Callows also supposedly died in a plane crash, but we know now that's not true either. Callows is likely behind the deaths in Berlin, and the Poznan police are almost certain he was the sniper at Robyn's rally. He provides the muscle, Watts provides the brains." He looked daggers at Jacques. "And votes." Ironwood leaned down. "And when you became a Councilman, Jacques, you also got top secret clearance. Which I imagine Watts used to learn a few things, such as our initial suspicion that Robyn's Happy Huntresses shot down the C-141." Ironwood raised an eyebrow. "Interesting that I never told you that the platform was named the Fall Maiden, Jacques. But Watts knows that information." He tapped the laptop. "I imagine if we watched some more of this, it will come up in conversation, won't it? So God alone knows what else Watts has figured out—troop deployments, reinforcement schedules, and so on."

"You son of a bitch," Robyn breathed angrily. "Those people that were killed at my rally—almost killed me—you…you've got blood on your hands, you fucking asshole!"

Camilla nodded. "If this is correct, Jacques, you will not only be tried for conspiracy, you're an accessory to murder." Her background was law.

"This is outrageous!" Jacques argued. "I only intended to win the election! I had no idea he would—"

"So you're admitting it!" Robyn screamed. She would have lunged across the table if Weiss hadn't stopped her. "Let me go, Hauptmann," she snarled. "Let me go. That cunt represents Poland now. He'll be tried in a Polish court. They still hang traitors here—"

Further threats were interrupted by the lights going out. Robyn immediately flattened herself against a wall, while Ironwood's hands darted into his uniform coat—he had agreed to no weapons before coming to Zagan, but what Jacques didn't know was that he had a holdout pistol under his uniform. Jacques tried to rise again, but Winter shoved him back down.

"What's going on?" Camilla exclaimed.

Robyn looked out the window. "It's not just us. The power's down everywhere."

The door opened—luckily, for once, Harriet Bree didn't burst into a room. "General Ironwood, Major Ebi. We've got a problem. Every ground radar in Poland just went off the air."

Ironwood straightened and went pale. "Clover, Winter—scramble. Everything we've got in Poland. Get it off the ground, now." He pounded the table. "She's coming."