Interlude [h.s]

forty

Harry is in his office, sipping a cup of black coffee while going through the papers Evie left on his desk earlier today. There are a million things to do after the robbery that took place a couple of days ago, and so far there seem to be no leads. He hates the feeling being one step behind the Revolution gives him. He hates the lack of control, the horrifying sensation of having been played.

There's a knock on the door and he looks up. He considers not answering and hiding into his studio for the rest of the afternoon, but he can't. Being the President means he can't run away anymore, he can't ignore situations and hope they'll get solved by themselves. If he doesn't do it, who will?

"Come in," Harry says, staring down at the cup in his hand. Lacing his black coffee with whiskey. Bad or good idea? He shakes his head and stands up. Definitely bad.

Jackson walks into his office, a dark expression on his face. "We've just heard from the warehouse in the west woods," he says, "it looks like the Revolution attacked it together with NorthFair Bank."

"It's too late," Harry replies instantly. A two day late report only means one thing.

"It was reported as soon as the head controller came back from the city. How would you like to proceed, sir?"

Harry is quiet for a moment.

"A few of my men and I can go there and conduct a thorough investigation," Jackson suggests, but Harry shakes his head. While he doesn't doubt the ability of his personal guard, there's more to it than there seems to be.

"Have the log record sent to me right away," he tells him. "We leave in one hour. Take two of your men and ten guards."

"Will do, sir." He gets out of the room, and Harry is alone again.

The Revolution made a statement.

They attacked one of the most well known banks in the city and one of his most secretive warehouses at the same time. The warehouse was the real objective, the bank only a decoy.

He leans back against his desk, tapping against the cold surface.

Two days are enough to erase all evidence, but it's also an awfully delayed report. They had to know it would be enough to raise suspicion. It would've been smarter to simply wait for him to find out and feign ignorance. A two day late report means that the warehouse has known about it for days and hasn't done anything about it.

He tilts his head. No. The Revolution isn't that careless. If they chose to report it two days later while knowing the risks, there has to be a reason.

How many people work at the warehouse in the west woods? Seven, and thirty-two guards take turns protecting it day and night. He doesn't have to look it up, it's part of all the useful information he has memorised. He's always had a very good memory, and while it's a curse sometimes, it's a blessing in disguise more often than not.

The guards can't report attacks to the Palace and don't have access to the inner warehouse, so there has to be someone on the Revolution's side higher up. The guards that were on shift have to know what happened, he reasons. He has to find out if any of them were hurt.

If nobody is hurt then they simply let them through. It's an easy step. That excludes all the guards that weren't on shift at that time. He'll keep a close eye on them, but he can't prove they sided with the Revolution. He won't kill ten guards just to weed out a couple of bad apples. He nurtures the spies in his own organisation, keeps an eye on them, tests them from time to time, waits for them to ultimately prove their guiltiness. Only then he strikes them down.