"Senator, with respect, your guest has been photographing security systems for the past forty minutes. That's not personal protection. That's intelligence gathering." I keep my eyes on Trask, watching for the micro-expressions that precede physical resistance. "He leaves now, or I involve authorities. Your choice."
Trask smiles, and the expression is all calculation. "You're Jax Hills. The one watching Lana Pope through her apartment cameras. Or you were, until she asked you to remove them this afternoon."
The information hits with uncomfortable accuracy. He knows about the surveillance. Knows it was removed today. Which means he's been monitoring Lana's building closely enough to see me dismantling equipment.
"My relationship with Ms. Pope isn't your concern."
"Isn't it? Because from where I'm standing, you're the perfect leverage point. Man obsessed with a woman who just asked him to back off. That kind of emotional vulnerability makes people do interesting things." He moves away from the window, closer to where I'm standing. "Ezra Pope would paywell for information about Lana's security protocols. Especially now that her official surveillance is gone."
The threat is clear—he's offering me money to betray Lana's security infrastructure. To provide the kind of detailed intelligence that would make her genuinely vulnerable. The assumption that I might accept burns worse than it should.
"Senator Michaels, I apologize for the interruption. But your guest needs to leave immediately." I'm already reaching for my phone, pulling up Dominion security. "Either he walks out or he gets carried out. His choice."
Trask raises both hands in mock surrender. "I'm leaving. No need for dramatics." He collects his camera, moves toward the door, pauses beside me. "But Hills? You should know that removing cameras doesn't make her safer. Just makes her easier to access for people who aren't bound by the same ethical constraints you're pretending to have."
Then he's gone, footsteps receding down the hallway, leaving me standing in Room Seven with a senator who's going to have questions I don't want to answer.
"Mr. Hills—" Michaels begins.
"I'll handle this, Senator. Enjoy your afternoon." I leave before he can press for details, already texting Lucien:Trask is out. But we have a problem.
His response comes immediately:My office. Now.
I move towards the third floor's eastern corner where his office’s at, accessible only by private elevator or the stairwell I'm currently taking two steps at a time. The door is already open when I arrive, Lucien standing at the window overlooking Miramont's downtown core, the city spread out below like a circuit board with lights for current.
"Close the door," he says without turning.
I do. I've been in here dozens of times for operational briefings, but right now, it feels different. Today, I'm the complication threatening his carefully constructed discretion.
"Trask knew about the cameras," I say, the weight of it settling as I speak the words aloud. "Knew I removed them this afternoon. That level of intelligence suggests he's been conducting counter-surveillance on Lana's building for at least several days."
Lucien turns from the window, his expression darkening. "Which means he probably has photographs of you installing equipment, removing it, entering her apartment."
"Exactly." The implications spread out like water damage. "He can document that I was surveilling her without going through official channels. That makes me vulnerable to blackmail or worse."
"It makes The Dominion vulnerable." He says, his expression is colder than I've seen it. "If Trask decides to leverage what he knows—that my head of security was conducting unauthorized surveillance of a woman connected to a will contest and potential criminal investigation—it creates exactly the kind of scrutiny we can't afford."
The assessment is accurate and brutal. My surveillance of Lana was always ethically complicated, but it was also illegal. Installing cameras without building owner permission, monitoring someone's private residence, documenting their movements—all of it violates multiple statutes regardless of how transparent I tried to be with her. If Trask takes that information public, I'm not just losing my job. I'm potentially facing criminal charges.
"So what do you want me to do?" I ask.
"Stop." The word is definitive. "Stop involving yourself in Lana Pope's security situation. Stop making decisions based on personal attachment that compromise professional judgment. Stop being the thing Trask can leverage against this organization."
"Trask told me that removing the cameras makes her more vulnerable. He's right. Without surveillance, I can't monitor threats, can't document Ezra's investigators, can't provide the kind of advance warning that keeps her actually safe."
"Then you let her make her own decisions about security. That’s what she wants, isn’t it? She's a grown woman with resources and legal counsel. If she needs professional protection, her attorney can arrange it. Your job is to stop hovering, stop inserting yourself into her safety protocols, and let her live without you monitoring her every move." Lucien's voice carries that particular tone that means he's finished negotiating. "Jax, I'm not asking. I'm telling you to disengage. For your protection as much as hers. If Trask has evidence of your illegal surveillance, the best defense is demonstrating that you recognized the ethical violation and corrected it immediately. Continuing involvement makes that defense impossible."
He's right. Operationally, strategically, legally—he's completely right. The smart play is complete withdrawal. Let Lana handle her own security decisions, let her attorney coordinate whatever protection she needs, focus on my actual job instead of the woman I've been watching through cameras for three weeks.
But smart plays don't account for the way my chest feels when I think about Lana facing Trask and Reese without any monitoring infrastructure. Don't account for the fact that I'vespent three weeks cataloging her patterns and vulnerabilities and specific threat vectors. Professional security can protect her body. Only I understand the particular ways Ezra's investigation has been targeting her psychologically.
"I'll step back," I say, which isn't quite agreement but it's close enough that Lucien accepts it.
"Good. Now tell me about Michaels." He pulls up the footage from Room Seven again. "How much damage control do I need to run with a senator who just watched his security consultant get ejected from the building?"
"He'll want explanations you probably don't want to give. Trask offered me money to betray Lana's security protocols in front of Michaels. That conversation is going to raise questions about why Dominion's head of security has intimate knowledge of a member's home infrastructure."
Lucien's expression does something painful. "Christ. Trask played this perfectly. Got himself invited by a senator, documented our security systems, then created a situation where ejecting him requires explaining your surveillance operation." He's already pulling up Michaels' contact information. "I'll handle the senator. You focus on making sure your personal complications don't become organizational liabilities."
