Page 52 of Truth or Lie

Fairbanks rose politely as we entered. His day had been somewhat less harrowing than mine had been yesterday, since his family hadn’t ended up in a hospital. Still, his practiced public face appeared a bit worn at the edges, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one in the room wearing concealer.

“Chairman Nikolayev,” he greeted. “Ms. McCready.”

“Prime Minister,” I replied. “Thank you for inviting us here today.”

Some people might have said I should lead with an apology for my outburst the previous day. I had no intention of doing so, for two reasons. First, I’d meant every goddamned word I’d said. And second, if he’d been as offended as all that, one might assume he wouldn’t have invited me to this meeting.

Bowing and scraping had never gotten alphas and omegas anywhere. Unless we approached the table as equals, our ambitions of meaningful reform were doomed.

“Prime Minister,” Nikolayev greeted—taking the seat Fairbanks indicated, as I did the same. “Your request to speak with us privately was, shall we say, somewhat unexpected. What is it you wish to discuss?”

Alex and Jax took up watchful positions along the back wall. Fairbanks reseated himself across the conference table from us, steepling his fingers before him. “May I be frank, Chairman?”

Nikolayev slanted an eyebrow. “I hope you will be.”

Fairbanks gave a single nod, as though to himself. “In that case, I wish to discuss Enoch Sloane.”

“A disagreeable subject, but a necessary one,” Nikolayev said. “May I assume he contacted your administration before the summit began?”

“He did.” Fairbanks tapped his forefingers together, and let his hands fall to rest on the table. “He threatened to topple the current parliamentary coalition if the UFNA agreed to any major pro-alphomic concessions during the talks.”

“The Committee threatens the same thinganytimethere are talks regarding the current laws,” I pointed out. “They’ve done that for years.”

“Yes.” Fairbanks frowned at us. “But this time, he also had some very specific allegations aimed at you, Chairman. I wanted to speak with you directly for that reason.” He squared his shoulders, as though steeling himself. “Are you an alpha, Chairman Nikolayev?”

Nikolayev didn’t so much as blink. “If I were, how would that change the course of our discussion?”

Fairbanks drew breath, only to hesitate. “There are reports,” he said slowly, “of actions you’ve taken in the past that seem... at odds with your recent policy changes within the Euro-Soviet branch of the Committee.”

That was as diplomatic a way of asking why someone would brutally murder a family member for being an omega, and later crusade for increased alphomic rights, as I was ever likely to hear.

“Reports may sometimes be misleading.” Nikolayev’s tone was mild. “One wonders what sort of world would voluntarily hand over power to such a murderous individual.”

“A troubled one,” Fairbanks replied.

The same haunted look I’d noticed yesterday was back in his eyes—and this was the moment. It was time to drag out the heavy artillery and find out if it would explode in my face or not.

“You have a very good reason for wanting to know if the stories about the Chairman are true,” I said. “Don’t you, Prime Minister?”

Fairbanks’ jaw tightened, his closed expression growing rigid.

“For you, it’s personal,” I continued. “You know, you really are an exceptional actor. I was in your administration foryears, and I never even suspected.”

Now Nikolayev was staring at me as well, his sharp brows drawn together.

I met Fairbanks’ eyes and delivered thecoup de grace. “This hits directly at your family, doesn’t it? I saw the way you reacted yesterday, when you thought they might have been exposed to the gas. Your daughter, Samantha, is an unregistered omega.”

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