Chapter 13
Caleb made one last attempt to recover power.
He asked James for a private conversation.
James allowed it.
Not because Caleb deserved privacy.
Because James wanted to hear what a man says when every other weapon is gone.
They stood in the Red Room.
Sarah’s tapes sat between them.
Caleb looked older there.
“You’re throwing away forty years over a recording.”
James stared at him.
“I’m throwing away you.”
Caleb’s jaw tightened.
“Sarah made you weak.”
“No.”
“She made you hesitate.”
“Yes.”
Caleb laughed.
“You admit it.”
James stepped closer.
“I learned to ask what my decisions cost.”
“That is hesitation.”
“That is leadership.”
Caleb shook his head.
“Leadership is choosing who gets hurt.”
James considered that.
“Sometimes.”
Caleb smiled.
“Finally.”
James continued.
“But you started enjoying choosing for other people.”
The smile vanished.
James looked at Sarah’s recorder.
“You leaked the convoy because I disagreed with you. You let men die to prove you were necessary. Then you helped turn my daughter’s marriage into surveillance because you were afraid of one dead woman’s voice.”
Caleb’s face hardened.
“She was going to tear apart everything we built.”
“No.”
James looked directly at him.
“She was going to expose what you built inside it.”
Caleb moved suddenly.
Not fast enough.
He swung.
James slipped outside it and drove one hard punch into Caleb’s chest, sending him backward against the red wall.
Then James stopped.
Caleb stared at him.
Waiting for more.
Almost wanting it.
Because violence would make sense to him.
James did not give it.
He opened the door.
“You’re done.”
Caleb laughed breathlessly.
“You think men forget what I was?”
“No.”
James looked at him.
“I think they finally remember what you became.”
That hurt more.
May you like
Caleb’s face showed it.
And James walked away.
