NPCW: Behind the Curtain — Episode 014: “New Frontier”
Part 1 — State of Affairs
Location: NPCW Headquarters, North Pole — Private Board Members’ Office
August 11, 2026
The office was designed for conversations that were never meant to reach the larger boardroom.
It sat several corridors away from NPCW’s executive wing, behind a dark wooden door bearing no nameplate and only a discreet brass plaque identifying it as BOARD MEMBERS — PRIVATE.
Inside, the décor was deliberately restrained.
Dark wood. Leather chairs. A small conference table beneath a recessed light. Frosted windows overlooking the snow-covered grounds outside NPCW Headquarters. No cameras. No production monitors. No assistants hovering outside waiting to take notes.
A room for owners.
A room for secrets.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne stood near the window, one hand resting lightly against the head of his walking stick as he watched snow drift across the courtyard below.
Behind him, Aurelius Valor sat at the small conference table, immaculate as always in a tailored white-and-gold suit. His posture was relaxed, but his attention was not. A thin folder rested before him, unopened.
Across from Aurelius sat Reggie Blackmoor.
Reggie looked considerably less formal than either man.
Dark coat. Open collar. Gloves tossed casually beside him. He sat with one ankle resting across the opposite knee, looking like a man who had wandered accidentally into a meeting of billionaires and decided he rather liked the furniture.
Hawthorne finally turned from the window.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Well?”
Reggie raised an eyebrow.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Good morning to you too, Your Lordship.”
Hawthorne gave him a flat look.
Reggie sighed.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Yes, yes. Business first. Civility whenever the investigation concludes. I remember the arrangement.”
Aurelius allowed the faintest smile.
Aurelius Valor:
“You asked to see us before today’s Board meeting. I assume that means Paris produced something worthwhile.”
That wiped some of the humor from Reggie’s face.
He leaned forward and placed both hands on the table.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“It did.”
Hawthorne crossed the room and took the remaining chair.
Reggie looked between them.
For the briefest moment, he considered how much to say.
Paris.
The hotel.
The Envoy.
Sherlock Holmes.
The suggestion of another intelligence moving behind Jacques Renaud.
A name Holmes had not spoken lightly.
Moriarty.
Reggie had spent much of the flight back deciding where the line belonged.
He had found it.
Hawthorne and Aurelius needed enough truth to protect NPCW.
They did not need enough truth to make themselves targets of a war they did not yet understand.
Not yet.
Reggie reached into his coat and removed a narrow folder.
He slid it across the table.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“I believe we now know who hired the Envoy.”
Hawthorne’s eyes sharpened.
Aurelius did not immediately reach for the folder.
Aurelius Valor:
“Who?”
Reggie paused.
Then—
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Jacques Renaud.”
Silence.
Hawthorne leaned back slightly.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Renaud?”
Reggie nodded.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“The very same. Former President of the KWO. Disgraced, removed, publicly humiliated and apparently not quite as finished with NPCW as everyone hoped.”
Aurelius finally opened the folder.
Inside were photographs, travel records, financial movements and several carefully summarized observations.
Nothing mentioning Holmes.
Nothing mentioning Moriarty.
Nothing Reggie was unwilling to have discovered later.
Aurelius scanned the first page.
Aurelius Valor:
“You are certain?”
Reggie Blackmoor:
“As certain as I can reasonably be without Jacques signing a confession beneath the words, ‘Yes, I hired the mysterious masked intermediary.’”
Hawthorne frowned.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“What exactly was his objective?”
Reggie leaned back again.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“From what I can establish, Jacques wanted a foothold inside NPCW again. He could no longer enter through the front door, so he hired someone to find him a window.”
Hawthorne’s expression darkened.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“And the Envoy’s attempt to influence the Circle succession?”
Reggie nodded.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Fits the pattern. Ardan Vantrell dies. Circle Sports Entertainment holds thirty percent of NPCW. Suddenly there is uncertainty regarding who speaks for that ownership block.”
Aurelius looked up from the documents.
Aurelius Valor:
“And if Lucien had failed to secure the succession…”
Reggie Blackmoor:
“…someone considerably more sympathetic to Jacques might have emerged with influence over thirty percent of this company.”
Hawthorne tapped one finger against the head of his cane.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“But that did not happen.”
Reggie Blackmoor:
“No.”
A small smile returned to Reggie’s face.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Whatever Jacques paid for, he did not receive the product advertised.”
Aurelius closed the folder.
Aurelius Valor:
“Lucien was confirmed Grand Manipulator.”
Reggie Blackmoor:
“And unless something rather spectacular happens during today’s meeting, I expect he will also be formally recognized as Circle Sports Entertainment’s representative here.”
Hawthorne considered that.
Then his brows drew together.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“So this was all simply revenge?”
Reggie looked at him.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Jacques loses his position. Loses his influence. Loses his access. So he attempts to manipulate his way back into NPCW through the Circle?”
A pause.
Hawthorne’s eyes narrowed.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Is there any possibility this runs deeper?”
There it was.
The question Reggie had expected.
He felt no pleasure answering it falsely.
He also felt no hesitation.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“No.”
The word came easily.
Too easily.
Aurelius watched him.
Reggie continued before either man could press.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Everything I found points back to Jacques. Money, intermediaries, contacts, motive. A bitter former executive with enough resources left to cause trouble and enough ego to believe he could still outmaneuver people who had already beaten him once.”
Hawthorne studied him.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“You believe he acted alone?”
Reggie gave a dismissive little shrug.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“As much as men like Jacques ever act alone. He used intermediaries. He used the Envoy. He almost certainly used people who never understood the entire assignment.”
He leaned forward.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“But if you are asking whether I found some larger conspiracy sitting behind Jacques…”
A deliberate beat.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“No.”
It was a lie.
But not one Reggie enjoyed.
And certainly not one spoken for Jacques Renaud’s benefit.
Hawthorne had hired him to protect NPCW.
Sometimes protection meant finding the truth.
Sometimes it meant deciding who could safely know it.
Sherlock Holmes had his own game underway.
Until Reggie understood that board, he was not putting Hawthorne or Aurelius onto it as pieces.
Aurelius regarded Reggie for another second longer than was entirely comfortable.
Then he inclined his head.
Aurelius Valor:
“Very well.”
Reggie smiled.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“There. See? This is why I prefer you. Sir Alistair usually asks three follow-up questions and then sends me somewhere unpleasant.”
Hawthorne ignored the jab.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Jacques still concerns me.”
Reggie Blackmoor:
“He should.”
Hawthorne looked toward Aurelius.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“But he is no longer the only concern before us today.”
The atmosphere changed.
Reggie noticed immediately.
His smile faded.
Aurelius folded his hands on the table.
Aurelius Valor:
“Seraphine.”
Hawthorne nodded.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Seraphine Viremont had sat among them for months.
Voted beside them.
Received confidential material.
Participated in discussions concerning executives, talent, security and ownership.
And now there were serious questions about who she had truly been serving.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“I dislike accusations made before evidence is presented.”
Aurelius nodded.
Aurelius Valor:
“As do I.”
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Yet if what we have been told is accurate…”
He stopped.
The rest required no embellishment.
Reggie watched both men carefully.
Aurelius Valor:
“Then someone placed an operative directly onto the NPCW Board.”
Hawthorne’s jaw tightened.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Not merely an employee. Not an assistant. Not someone lingering around production trucks.”
He glanced toward the closed office door.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“A director.”
Aurelius remained calm, but there was steel underneath his voice.
Aurelius Valor:
“Which means anything discussed at this table must now be viewed through the possibility that it traveled elsewhere.”
Hawthorne nodded grimly.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“That is the part I find most objectionable.”
Reggie raised an eyebrow.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Only that part?”
Hawthorne shot him a look.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“You know what I mean.”
Reggie settled back.
Hawthorne continued.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“I can tolerate disagreement. I can tolerate ambition. I can even tolerate Scrooge.”
From Aurelius came the smallest sound that might have been amusement.
Hawthorne continued as though he had heard nothing.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“What I will not tolerate is someone sitting on this Board under false pretenses while reporting our deliberations to an outside master.”
Aurelius's eyes lowered slightly.
Aurelius Valor:
“We do not yet know precisely what Seraphine has done.”
Hawthorne turned toward him.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“No.”
Aurelius Valor:
“And we should be careful not to transform suspicion into conviction simply because the allegation is frightening.”
That drew a measured nod from Hawthorne.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Agreed.”
Aurelius glanced toward Reggie.
Aurelius Valor:
“Have you uncovered anything independently tying Seraphine to this?”
Reggie shook his head.
That answer, at least, required no deception.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Nothing I would put my reputation behind. My work was Jacques and the Envoy. Seraphine is a different trail.”
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Then we do this properly.”
Aurelius looked at him.
Hawthorne straightened in his chair.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“We hear the evidence.”
Aurelius Valor:
“All of it.”
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“We allow Seraphine an opportunity to answer.”
Aurelius Valor:
“Yes.”
Hawthorne gave a firm nod.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“And then we vote according to what is established. Not according to fear. Not according to faction. Not according to which ownership bloc finds the result most convenient.”
Aurelius's expression softened slightly.
Approval.
Aurelius Valor:
“That is precisely how I intend to approach it.”
Reggie looked between them.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Well, this is disappointingly mature.”
Hawthorne sighed.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Reggie.”
Reggie Blackmoor:
“I am merely saying, I flew across an ocean expecting intrigue. Assassins. Secret alliances. Perhaps someone falling dramatically from a balcony.”
Aurelius raised an eyebrow.
Aurelius Valor:
“And instead?”
Reggie stood, collected his gloves and slipped them into his coat.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Corporate governance.”
He shuddered theatrically.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Much more frightening.”
Aurelius actually smiled this time.
Hawthorne did not.
But the corner of his mouth threatened to.
Reggie moved toward the door.
Before opening it, Hawthorne spoke.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Reggie.”
Reggie stopped.
Hawthorne looked at him with genuine seriousness.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Good work.”
For a moment, Reggie’s usual glibness disappeared.
He inclined his head.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Thank you.”
Then the smile returned.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Try not to remove anyone from the Board before lunch. It makes the catering terribly awkward.”
He opened the door and disappeared into the corridor.
The latch clicked softly behind him.
Silence returned.
Aurelius looked down at the folder one final time.
Aurelius Valor:
“You trust him?”
Hawthorne looked toward the closed door.
A long beat.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“With my life.”
Aurelius nodded.
Aurelius Valor:
“That was not quite what I asked.”
Hawthorne’s eyes shifted toward him.
Another pause.
Then—
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“No.”
Aurelius regarded him.
Hawthorne continued quietly.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“But I trust that if Reggie Blackmoor ever withholds something from me, he believes he has a very good reason.”
Aurelius looked again toward the door.
Somewhere beyond it, Reggie Blackmoor was already walking away.
Carrying a truth neither man knew he had been spared.
For now.
Aurelius rose.
Aurelius Valor:
“Then we should go.”
Hawthorne took up his cane.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Yes.”
The two men headed for the Board meeting.
Where another set of secrets was waiting for them.
Part 2 — Accusations
Location: NPCW Headquarters, North Pole — Office of President & CEO Kristine Kringle
August 11, 2026 — Shortly Before the Board Meeting
The door to Kristine Kringle’s office closes with a quiet click.
There are no assistants inside.
No Board members.
No lawyers.
Only three people.
Kristine Kringle sits behind her desk, an open folder resting in front of her. Her glasses sit low on her nose as she reviews one final page.
To her right, Victoria Deschamps occupies one of the chairs facing the desk. A tablet rests across her lap, her posture composed and attentive.
Across from both women sits Elias Coldmere.
Immaculate as always.
Dark tailored suit. Perfectly arranged cuffs. Hands resting loosely together.
The calm scholar.
The reliable administrator.
The man who had personally requested this meeting before the Board assembled.
Kristine closes the folder.
Kristine Kringle:
“You asked for time before the meeting.”
Elias inclines his head.
Elias Coldmere:
“I did. Thank you for accommodating me.”
Victoria watches him without comment.
Elias continues.
Elias Coldmere:
“I wanted to discuss several concerns regarding the Northern Belles Division.”
Kristine’s expression does not change.
Kristine Kringle:
“Goldie.”
Elias Coldmere:
“Goldie.”
A pause.
Elias Coldmere:
“I believe some of her recent booking decisions warrant executive review.”
Victoria’s eyebrow rises slightly.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Such as?”
Elias turns toward her.
Elias Coldmere:
“The Last Woman Standing Match between Polly Mason and Dr. Violetta Voss.”
Neither woman looks surprised.
Of course not.
Elias had already confronted Goldie privately after Northern Belles 036. Goldie had listened to his warning, refused to surrender control of her division, and signed the match anyway.
Then, during the Fallout announcement on Polar Power, he had challenged her decision publicly.
Goldie had not backed down there either.
Her answer had been simple.
The ordinary matches had failed to contain them.
The Last Woman Standing Match was not intended to be safe.
It was intended to be final.
Kristine folds her hands.
Kristine Kringle:
“You already raised this with Goldie.”
Elias Coldmere:
“Yes.”
Kristine Kringle:
“And she heard you.”
Elias Coldmere:
“She dismissed me.”
Victoria immediately shakes her head.
Victoria Deschamps:
“No. She disagreed with you.”
Elias looks toward her.
Victoria Deschamps:
“There is a difference.”
A faint tightening appears around Elias’s eyes.
Elias Coldmere:
“I warned her that the situation between Mason and Voss had progressed beyond competitive hostility.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“And she agreed that it had.”
Elias Coldmere:
“Then she sanctioned a match specifically designed to remove the safeguards that might prevent that hostility from becoming something worse.”
Kristine leans back slightly.
Kristine Kringle:
“Polly requested the match.”
Elias Coldmere:
“That does not obligate management to grant it.”
Kristine Kringle:
“No. It doesn’t.”
A beat.
Kristine Kringle:
“Voss accepted.”
Elias Coldmere:
“That does not make it responsible.”
Victoria speaks calmly.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Both competitors are consenting. Both will receive medical review. Both understand the stipulation. Goldie has arranged additional officials and medical personnel.”
Elias lets out a quiet breath.
Elias Coldmere:
“And when one of them decides that winning is less important than hurting the other?”
Victoria Deschamps:
“Then the officials intervene if circumstances exceed what was authorized.”
Elias Coldmere:
“That rather defeats the purpose of calling it Last Woman Standing.”
Victoria's eyes sharpen.
Victoria Deschamps:
“No, Elias. It acknowledges that professional wrestling still has limits even when a stipulation is violent.”
Silence settles.
Elias looks from Victoria to Kristine.
Elias Coldmere:
“So you both support her.”
Kristine answers immediately.
Kristine Kringle:
“On this decision?”
A pause.
Kristine Kringle:
“Yes.”
That lands.
Elias shifts slightly in the chair.
Elias Coldmere:
“Of course.”
Victoria catches the tone.
Victoria Deschamps:
“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
Elias turns toward her.
His voice remains low.
Polite.
But the polish has begun to crack.
Elias Coldmere:
“It means Goldie Locks appears to enjoy a degree of latitude that would generate considerably more scrutiny if exercised by anyone else.”
Kristine's expression cools.
Kristine Kringle:
“That is a serious accusation.”
Elias Coldmere:
“Is it inaccurate?”
Victoria Deschamps:
“Yes.”
Elias looks at her.
Elias Coldmere:
“You mentored her.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“I did.”
Elias Coldmere:
“You have consistently defended her.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“When I believed she deserved defending.”
Elias Coldmere:
“And Kristine granted her additional time when questions were raised about whether Northern Belles required a separate weekly program at all.”
Kristine does not flinch.
The proposal had existed.
Goldie had known it.
Victoria had argued that Northern Belles was only beginning to build real momentum, and Kristine had given Goldie the opportunity to prove it.
Elias spreads his hands slightly.
Elias Coldmere:
“So forgive me if I see a pattern.”
Victoria sets her tablet on the edge of Kristine’s desk.
Victoria Deschamps:
“You see favoritism.”
Elias Coldmere:
“I see protection.”
Kristine goes very still.
Kristine Kringle:
“Be careful, Elias.”
He meets her eyes.
Elias Coldmere:
“I am being careful.”
Kristine reaches for the folder she had closed when the meeting began.
She opens it again.
Kristine Kringle:
“Then let’s be careful with facts.”
Elias says nothing.
Kristine removes a single sheet.
Kristine Kringle:
“You believe Goldie has been protected despite questionable performance.”
Elias Coldmere:
“I believe concerns regarding her judgment have been repeatedly minimized.”
Kristine slides the sheet across the desk.
It stops directly in front of him.
Kristine Kringle:
“Since May, Northern Belles has consistently outperformed Polar Power in audience ratings.”
Elias looks down.
His expression barely moves.
Kristine continues.
Kristine Kringle:
“Over the last three months, Polar Power has averaged 79.7 percent.”
She taps the page.
Kristine Kringle:
“Northern Belles has averaged 82.2 percent.”
Silence.
Elias studies the numbers.
Victoria does not smile.
There is no satisfaction in the presentation.
Only evidence.
Victoria Deschamps:
“That doesn’t mean every decision Goldie makes is correct.”
Elias looks toward her.
Victoria Deschamps:
“It means the argument that she is struggling because we are shielding her from consequences is no longer supported by the results.”
Elias Coldmere:
“Ratings are one metric.”
Kristine Kringle:
“Absolutely.”
She sits forward.
Kristine Kringle:
“So let's discuss others.”
The temperature in the room changes.
Elias senses it.
Kristine Kringle:
“You came here to question Goldie’s judgment.”
A pause.
Kristine Kringle:
“I think it is only fair that we examine yours.”
Elias straightens.
Elias Coldmere:
“Very well.”
Kristine glances toward Victoria.
Victoria picks up her tablet.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Crimson Maulers.”
Elias says nothing.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Brakk Bloodmaw and Vereyk Nightclaw.”
She scrolls once.
Victoria Deschamps:
“They arrived in Polar under your recommendation.”
Elias Coldmere:
“They were talented competitors with substantial upside.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“They were also connected to Count Daculescu.”
Elias Coldmere:
“That association was disclosed.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“And then came the Master of the Night.”
For the first time, something unmistakable passes across Elias’s expression.
Not fear.
Irritation.
Elias Coldmere:
“Talent Relations approved every contract.”
Victoria's expression hardens instantly.
There it is.
The argument she expected.
She places the tablet down.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Yes.”
Elias leans back slightly.
Elias Coldmere:
“Then I fail to see how their presence constitutes an indictment of my judgment.”
Victoria does not raise her voice.
She does not need to.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Because Talent Relations relied upon the recommendations of the General Managers.”
A beat.
Victoria Deschamps:
“We did not build this company around the assumption that every divisional head had to be independently investigated before we could trust their talent recommendations.”
Elias's jaw tightens.
Victoria Deschamps:
“When you brought us a candidate, we assumed you had evaluated whether that individual was in the best interests of NPCW.”
Elias Coldmere:
“And Talent Relations conducted its own review.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“Contractual review.”
She emphasizes the distinction.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Medical status. Existing obligations. Compensation. Employment terms.”
She leans forward.
Victoria Deschamps:
“We trusted you on divisional necessity.”
Elias says nothing.
Victoria Deschamps:
“We trusted you when you said the Crimson Maulers strengthened Polar.”
Another beat.
Victoria Deschamps:
“And we trusted you when you supported bringing in the Master of the Night.”
Kristine picks up from there.
Kristine Kringle:
“Who arrived last weekend surrounded by enough security concerns to turn half the building into an armed camp.”
The Master of the Night’s debut had drawn Van Helsing, Mina Harker, Carmilla Nocturne, Jasper Fang, the Sisters of the Hood, Count Vlad and Infernus Rex to watch him. After thirty minutes, he used an image of the abducted Edie Mason to torment Jack Mason in front of the audience.
Elias's response is immediate.
Elias Coldmere:
“And produced one of the most anticipated debuts Polar Power has presented this year.”
Kristine stares at him.
Kristine Kringle:
“That is your defense?”
Elias holds her gaze.
Elias Coldmere:
“It is a fact.”
Kristine Kringle:
“So are the circumstances surrounding his arrival.”
Elias's tone cools further.
Elias Coldmere:
“This is professional wrestling, Kristine. Controversial personalities create interest. Dangerous competitors create interest.”
Victoria interjects.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Then why are you sitting here criticizing Goldie for booking a dangerous match that creates interest?”
Silence.
Clean.
Immediate.
Elias looks toward her.
Victoria does not move.
Victoria Deschamps:
“You cannot argue that danger is commercially valuable when you introduce it and irresponsible when Goldie does.”
Elias's voice becomes sharper.
Elias Coldmere:
“The situations are not comparable.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“Then explain the difference.”
Elias Coldmere:
“The Master of the Night is a professional competitor operating under contract.”
Victoria holds his gaze.
Victoria Deschamps:
“So are Polly Mason and Dr. Violetta Voss.”
Elias pauses.
Kristine watches him closely.
He changes direction.
Elias Coldmere:
“Mason and Voss have demonstrated personal instability toward one another.”
Kristine Kringle:
“And Jack Mason?”
That catches him.
Kristine continues.
Kristine Kringle:
“You objected publicly to Goldie sanctioning Last Woman Standing because Polly and Voss had become too personal.”
She reaches into the folder and pulls out another page.
Kristine Kringle:
“Later that same night, Jack Mason challenged the Master of the Night to a No Disqualification Match.”
Elias's eyes narrow.
Kristine Kringle:
“You sanctioned it.”
On Polar Power, Elias had initially resisted authorizing the match from anger. But once the Master of the Night accepted the No Disqualification challenge, Elias formally added it to Fallout.
Elias Coldmere:
“The challenge was made publicly.”
Kristine Kringle:
“That isn't an answer.”
Elias Coldmere:
“The Master accepted.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“Voss accepted Goldie’s match.”
Another silence.
Elias's composure slips.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Elias Coldmere:
“Jack Mason's circumstances are unique.”
Kristine Kringle:
“Every circumstance becomes unique when you need it to.”
That lands harder than anything else.
Elias rises from his chair.
Not violently.
But abruptly enough that Victoria immediately becomes more alert.
Elias Coldmere:
“I requested this meeting because I believed an executive discussion about standards was necessary.”
Kristine remains seated.
Kristine Kringle:
“And we're having one.”
Elias Coldmere:
“No.”
His voice is harder now.
Elias Coldmere:
“I came here to raise a legitimate concern regarding another General Manager, and within minutes this became a review of my department.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“Because you accused us of protecting Goldie.”
Elias Coldmere:
“Because you are protecting Goldie.”
Victoria stands now.
Slowly.
Controlled.
Victoria Deschamps:
“No, Elias.”
Her eyes lock onto his.
Victoria Deschamps:
“We supported someone who was struggling.”
A beat.
Victoria Deschamps:
“We gave her guidance.”
Another.
Victoria Deschamps:
“And then we expected her to improve.”
She gestures toward the ratings sheet.
Victoria Deschamps:
“She did.”
Elias looks down at the numbers.
Victoria Deschamps:
“That is not favoritism.”
Her voice lowers.
Victoria Deschamps:
“That is management.”
Elias's jaw tightens.
Kristine removes her glasses.
She sets them carefully on the desk.
The gesture quiets the room.
Kristine Kringle:
“Goldie has made mistakes.”
Elias looks toward her.
Kristine Kringle:
“I've told her when she's made them.”
A pause.
Kristine Kringle:
“Victoria has told her.”
Kristine's eyes harden.
Kristine Kringle:
“The difference is that lately, when Goldie has been challenged, she has listened, evaluated the criticism and then taken responsibility for her decision.”
Elias remains silent.
Kristine Kringle:
“I cannot say the same about you.”
That lands.
Elias stares at her.
The anger disappears from his face.
Something colder replaces it.
Elias Coldmere:
“I see.”
Kristine Kringle:
“I don't think you do.”
She rises.
Now all three are standing.
Kristine Kringle:
“I have been increasingly disappointed by several of your recent actions.”
The words are deliberate.
Not theatrical.
Worse because they are not.
Kristine Kringle:
“Your recommendations.”
A beat.
Kristine Kringle:
“Your inconsistencies.”
Another.
Kristine Kringle:
“And your increasing willingness to question the judgment of your colleagues while treating your own decisions as beyond examination.”
Elias's eyes flick briefly toward Victoria.
Then back.
Elias Coldmere:
“If you have lost confidence in me, Kristine, perhaps you should simply say so.”
Kristine studies him.
For a second, it almost seems she might.
Instead—
Kristine Kringle:
“There will be changes discussed at today's Board meeting.”
Elias goes still.
Victoria watches him.
Elias Coldmere:
“Changes.”
Kristine Kringle:
“Yes.”
Elias Coldmere:
“To Polar?”
Kristine does not answer the question.
Kristine Kringle:
“To the way NPCW is governed.”
A longer silence.
Elias's expression has become unreadable again.
The scholar has returned.
The careful administrator.
But he cannot entirely hide the calculation behind his eyes.
Elias Coldmere:
“Am I expected to attend?”
Kristine Kringle:
“No.”
That answer comes quickly.
Kristine Kringle:
“This is a Board meeting.”
Elias gives one slow nod.
Elias Coldmere:
“Of course.”
He adjusts one cuff.
Everything precise again.
Elias Coldmere:
“Then I suppose I will learn the outcome when the Board believes I should.”
Kristine meets his gaze.
Kristine Kringle:
“You will.”
Elias turns toward the door.
He reaches it.
Stops.
His hand rests against the handle.
Without turning around—
Elias Coldmere:
“For what it is worth, my concerns regarding Mason and Voss remain.”
Kristine answers from behind him.
Kristine Kringle:
“You were entitled to raise them.”
A beat.
Kristine Kringle:
“You were not entitled to turn disagreement into an accusation of favoritism simply because you did not get the answer you wanted.”
Elias looks back.
His eyes move first to Kristine.
Then Victoria.
Elias Coldmere:
“Understood.”
He opens the door.
Then pauses one final time.
Elias Coldmere:
“I hope Goldie proves you both correct.”
Victoria answers quietly.
Victoria Deschamps:
“She already has more than you seem willing to admit.”
The door closes.
Elias is gone.
For several seconds, neither woman moves.
Then Victoria exhales.
Victoria Deschamps:
“That went well.”
Kristine gives her a look.
Victoria shrugs faintly.
Victoria Deschamps:
“He didn't throw anything.”
Kristine almost smiles.
Almost.
Then her gaze falls back onto the folder.
The humor disappears.
Kristine Kringle:
“He came in here expecting us to question Goldie.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“And instead discovered we've been questioning him.”
Kristine nods.
She gathers the documents into a single stack.
Ratings.
Contracts.
Talent recommendations.
Internal reports.
And one far more troubling file waiting beneath all of them.
A file Elias Coldmere had not seen.
Victoria notices it.
Her expression turns serious.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Ready?”
Kristine closes the folder.
Kristine Kringle:
“No.”
She picks it up.
Kristine Kringle:
“But the Board is waiting.”
The two women walk toward the door.
Behind them, the ratings sheet remains on Kristine's desk.
NORTHERN BELLES — 82.2%
POLAR POWER — 79.7%
Numbers never tell the entire story.
But sometimes they make an accusation considerably harder to sustain.
Kristine switches off the light.
CUT TO BLACK.
Part 3 — Board Meeting
Location: NPCW Headquarters, North Pole — Main Boardroom
August 11, 2026
The boardroom at NPCW Headquarters had hosted arguments over championships, budgets, expansion, acquisitions, security, and the increasingly difficult question of what exactly constituted a normal business problem when the company employed monsters, legends, witches, kings, and things that preferred not to be categorized.
Today felt different.
There was no single crisis waiting to be solved.
There were several.
At the head of the table sat Bernard, Chairman of the NPCW Board.
To his right, Ebenezer Scrooge, Vice Chairman, had already rearranged the papers in front of him twice despite having read none of them.
Around the table sat the remaining directors.
Aurelius Valor.
Kris Kringle.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne.
Alexander.
Dr. Evelyn Hartwell.
Seraphine Viremont.
And, for the first time in this room under a new title—
Lucien Vantrell.
The chair once occupied by his father had been left vacant since Ardan Vantrell's death.
Today, Lucien sat in it.
There was no ceremony to the image.
No photograph.
No plaque.
No acknowledgment of inheritance beyond the papers resting before him.
Yet everyone in the room understood what the chair represented.
Thirty percent.
Circle Sports Entertainment.
And now the man who had succeeded Ardan as head of the Circle had come to formally claim the voice attached to it.
At the opposite end of the table sat Kristine Kringle, President and CEO of NPCW.
She was not there as a representative of Kringle Holdings.
That seat belonged to her father.
Kristine was there because everything decided in this room would eventually become her responsibility to execute.
Beside her sat Victoria Deschamps, Vice President of Talent Relations and, for the moment, Acting Executive Vice President.
Several additional folders rested in front of Victoria.
Personnel.
Ratings.
Organizational structure.
And one marked simply:
CONFIDENTIAL — GOVERNANCE REVIEW
Bernard looked around the table.
Then tapped his pen lightly against the agenda.
Bernard:
“All right.”
Scrooge looked toward him.
Scrooge:
“That is your opening?”
Bernard looked back.
Bernard:
“I was going to say something more impressive.”
Scrooge:
“You should have.”
Bernard:
“Thank you, Ebenezer.”
Aurelius lowered his eyes, concealing a faint smile.
Bernard straightened.
Bernard:
“Let the record reflect that all required directors are present. President Kringle and Vice President Deschamps are attending at the request of the Chair.”
He glanced toward Lucien.
The humor disappeared.
Bernard:
“Our first matter is Circle Sports Entertainment.”
Agenda Item One — Circle Representation
Bernard folded his hands.
Bernard:
“Following the death of Ardan Vantrell, Circle Sports Entertainment's thirty-percent ownership interest remained unchanged. What remained unresolved was who formally possessed authority to exercise that interest on behalf of Circle Enterprises.”
Lucien sat motionless.
Bernard continued.
Bernard:
“We have received the necessary corporate documentation confirming that Lucien Vantrell has succeeded Ardan Vantrell as Grand Manipulator and has been authorized by Circle Enterprises to act as its representative in all matters relating to NPCW.”
Scrooge glanced toward Lucien.
Scrooge:
“Quite a promotion.”
Lucien's eyes moved toward him.
Lucien Vantrell:
“My father died.”
Scrooge shifted slightly.
Scrooge:
“Yes. Well.”
A beat.
Scrooge:
“Obviously not the preferred method.”
Kris Kringle gave Scrooge a long look.
Scrooge busied himself with his papers.
Bernard turned back toward Lucien.
Bernard:
“Lucien, before the Board recognizes the appointment, do you wish to say anything?”
Lucien considered it.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Only that Circle Sports Entertainment's commitment to NPCW remains unchanged.”
Kristine watches him carefully.
Lucien continues.
Lucien Vantrell:
“My father believed this company had greater potential than many within the Circle understood.”
A small pause.
Lucien Vantrell:
“He was correct.”
That earns Aurelius's attention.
Lucien Vantrell:
“I intend to protect the Circle's investment. I also intend to ensure that what Ardan built here is not dismantled merely because he is no longer present to defend it.”
Bernard gives one measured nod.
Bernard:
“Then I move that Lucien Vantrell be formally recognized as the authorized representative of Circle Sports Entertainment and that he assume the Board position previously held by Ardan Vantrell.”
Aurelius speaks.
Aurelius Valor:
“Seconded.”
The vote is taken.
No opposition.
Even Scrooge raises his hand without complaint.
Bernard lowers his own.
Bernard:
“Motion carried.”
He looks directly toward Lucien.
Bernard:
“Welcome to the Board, Lucien.”
Lucien inclines his head.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Thank you, Chairman.”
Bernard glances down at the agenda.
Bernard:
“And now that we've officially given you more responsibility…”
His eyes move toward the next item.
Bernard:
“…we can begin taking some of your old responsibility away.”
Lucien's expression almost becomes a smile.
Almost.
Agenda Item Two — Q2 Performance
Kristine opens the first presentation folder.
A screen behind her illuminates.
NPCW — Q2 2026 PERFORMANCE REVIEW
The first number appears.
+6%
Kristine turns toward the Board.
Kristine Kringle:
“Second-quarter ratings finished six percent above first-quarter performance.”
Aurelius nods approvingly.
Kristine Kringle:
“That is company-wide, across the principal weekly programs.”
Scrooge leans forward.
Scrooge:
“Six percent actual audience growth or six percent against target?”
Kristine Kringle:
“Quarter over quarter.”
Scrooge sits back.
Scrooge:
“Better.”
Bob Cratchit was not in the room, but his financial hand was evident in the accompanying packets: revenue projections, live-event performance, streaming engagement, international licensing.
Kristine moves to the next slide.
Kristine Kringle:
“Polar Power remained stable. Northern Belles continued its upward trend. Dark Fable performed strongly through most of the quarter. Crucible completed its transition into a regular weekly program.”
She pauses.
The next slide appears.
The line moves downward.
Kristine Kringle:
“Q3 has begun more slowly.”
Scrooge's expression immediately sours.
Scrooge:
“How slowly?”
Kristine Kringle:
“Enough that we're watching it. Not enough that I'm worried.”
Scrooge:
“I prefer worrying early. It's cheaper.”
Kristine ignores him.
Kristine Kringle:
“The weakness is concentrated primarily in Dark Fable and Crucible.”
Alexander speaks for the first time.
Alexander:
“Different causes?”
Kristine Kringle:
“Very.”
She changes the slide.
DARK FABLE
Kristine Kringle:
“Dark Fable has been affected by the absence of a Mythic-exclusive premium event in this portion of the calendar.”
Lucien's fingers stop lightly against the edge of his folder.
Kristine Kringle:
“We've continued producing strong weekly material, but without a major Mythic destination event anchoring the month, some of the audience urgency has softened.”
Aurelius nods.
Aurelius Valor:
“A scheduling issue rather than a product collapse.”
Kristine Kringle:
“That is our current interpretation.”
Scrooge points toward the screen.
Scrooge:
“Then schedule something.”
Kristine turns her head toward him.
Kristine Kringle:
“That is generally how calendars work, yes.”
Hawthorne covers a smile with one hand.
The slide changes.
CRUCIBLE
Kristine Kringle:
“Crucible is different.”
Victoria picks up the explanation.
Victoria Deschamps:
“We deliberately changed the program.”
Several directors look toward her.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Crucible has moved away from a heavily story-driven presentation. It is now more results-oriented. Developmental competition, match performance, progression, evaluation.”
Dr. Evelyn Hartwell looks toward the screen.
Dr. Evelyn Hartwell:
“And the audience adjustment was expected?”
Victoria Deschamps:
“Yes.”
Kristine Kringle:
“The audience attracted primarily to long-form storytelling was always likely to decline somewhat.”
She brings up another graphic.
Four July episodes.
Three highlighted as having met target.
Kristine Kringle:
“The encouraging part is that three of the four Crucible broadcasts in July achieved their revised targets.”
Aurelius studies the numbers carefully.
Iron Ring was of particular interest to him.
Aurelius Valor:
“Then the new baseline may already be forming.”
Victoria nods.
Victoria Deschamps:
“That is our assessment.”
Aurelius Valor:
“I would strongly caution against reversing direction merely because the first numbers are lower than the previous format.”
Kristine agrees immediately.
Kristine Kringle:
“We aren't.”
Aurelius Valor:
“Good.”
Scrooge looks unconvinced.
Scrooge:
“So we're celebrating lower numbers because we expected lower numbers?”
Aurelius turns toward him.
Aurelius Valor:
“We are evaluating a developmental program according to its intended purpose.”
Scrooge:
“Its intended purpose should include people watching it.”
Aurelius Valor:
“Three of four July broadcasts achieved target.”
Scrooge frowns.
Scrooge:
“I heard that part. I simply disliked it.”
Bernard raises his hand.
Bernard:
“Then let's record Q2 as a strong quarter, Q3 as something management is monitoring, and agree that nobody is setting Crucible on fire before Hammer Washington has had time to prove the format.”
Scrooge looks at him.
Scrooge:
“I had not suggested fire.”
Bernard:
“I was speaking metaphorically.”
Scrooge:
“Then use more responsible metaphors.”
Bernard closes the performance folder.
Bernard:
“Noted.”
He moves to the next item.
And the atmosphere immediately changes.
Agenda Item Three — Executive Vice President
Bernard looks toward Lucien.
Bernard:
“With Lucien now formally occupying a seat on this Board and representing Circle Sports Entertainment, we need to address his executive position.”
Kristine speaks.
Kristine Kringle:
“I don't believe someone representing a thirty-percent owner on the Board should simultaneously continue serving as the company's Executive Vice President.”
Lucien gives a small nod.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Neither do I.”
That catches Kristine slightly off guard.
Lucien reaches toward a document in front of him.
Lucien Vantrell:
“My resignation as Executive Vice President is effective upon the appointment of my successor.”
He slides the letter toward Bernard.
Bernard accepts it.
Bernard:
“That was suspiciously easy.”
Lucien Vantrell:
“I have acquired other obligations.”
Scrooge:
“An entire secret society, apparently.”
Kris turns toward Scrooge.
Kris Kringle:
“Ebenezer.”
Scrooge:
“What? We all know.”
Lucien ignores him.
Kristine looks toward Victoria.
Kristine Kringle:
“Victoria has been performing the duties on an acting basis during the transition.”
Victoria remains composed.
Kristine continues.
Kristine Kringle:
“She already understands our executive operations, has strong working relationships across every division, and has handled the additional workload exceptionally well.”
Lucien watches her.
Kristine Kringle:
“My recommendation is that Victoria Deschamps be appointed Executive Vice President permanently.”
Victoria does not immediately react.
Bernard looks around the room.
Before he can call for discussion—
Lucien Vantrell:
“I object.”
Kristine turns toward him.
She expected it.
Kristine Kringle:
“On what basis?”
Lucien folds his hands.
Lucien Vantrell:
“The governance arrangement established when you were appointed President and CEO.”
Silence.
Several directors remember immediately.
Others wait.
Lucien continues.
Lucien Vantrell:
“When the current ownership structure was formed, Circle Sports Entertainment supported the appointment of a chief executive who did not represent the Circle's interests.”
His eyes remain on Kristine.
Lucien Vantrell:
“In exchange, the Circle was given the right to designate the Executive Vice President.”
Scrooge nods.
Scrooge:
“He's right.”
Kristine looks toward him.
Scrooge:
“Don't look so offended. Occasionally I remember things that cost me money.”
Kris Kringle speaks carefully.
Kris Kringle:
“The arrangement was intended as balance.”
Lucien Vantrell:
“Precisely.”
Aurelius leans back.
Aurelius Valor:
“And Circle Sports Entertainment continues to hold thirty percent.”
Lucien Vantrell:
“Yes.”
Kristine's jaw tightens.
Kristine Kringle:
“Then whom does the Circle intend to designate?”
Lucien does not hesitate.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Alton Bell.”
That lands differently.
Not shock.
Recognition.
Victoria's expression stays perfectly professional.
Hawthorne looks toward Aurelius.
Scrooge gives a thoughtful grunt.
Bernard:
“Your Mythic General Manager.”
Lucien Vantrell:
“Currently.”
Kristine Kringle:
“Which would leave Mythic without a General Manager.”
Lucien Vantrell:
“I am aware.”
Kristine looks at him for several seconds.
Kristine Kringle:
“Alton is capable.”
Lucien slightly raises an eyebrow.
Lucien Vantrell:
“That sounded painful.”
Kristine Kringle:
“It wasn't.”
She glances toward Victoria.
Then back.
Kristine Kringle:
“My preference remains Victoria.”
Lucien's voice stays perfectly calm.
Lucien Vantrell:
“And my preference would have been to retain my father's voting power without inheriting his enemies. Governance rarely consists entirely of preference.”
Aurelius's eyes narrow with faint interest.
Bernard intervenes.
Bernard:
“The agreement exists. Unless someone intends to challenge its validity, we should honor it.”
Kristine does not like it.
But she knows he is right.
Kristine Kringle:
“I won't challenge an agreement NPCW entered into in good faith.”
Lucien inclines his head.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Then I formally nominate Alton Bell as Executive Vice President.”
Scrooge speaks immediately.
Scrooge:
“Seconded.”
Bernard looks toward the table.
Bernard:
“Discussion?”
Victoria speaks before anyone else.
Victoria Deschamps:
“I have one point.”
All eyes turn toward her.
Victoria Deschamps:
“If Alton is appointed, I return exclusively to Talent Relations.”
Lucien nods.
Lucien Vantrell:
“As you should.”
Victoria meets his gaze.
Victoria Deschamps:
“And Talent Relations remains independent in personnel matters.”
Lucien does not answer immediately.
Kristine notices.
So does Aurelius.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Hiring. Releases. Contracts. Transfers. Employment discipline.”
A pause.
Victoria Deschamps:
“The Executive Vice President does not inherit those authorities simply because they sit above me on the organizational chart.”
Lucien studies her.
Then—
Lucien Vantrell:
“Agreed.”
Kristine looks toward Bernard.
Kristine Kringle:
“I want that reflected in the minutes.”
Bernard:
“It will be.”
The vote proceeds.
The motion passes.
Alton Bell is appointed Executive Vice President of NPCW, effective immediately.
Bernard signs the resolution.
Lucien signs his resignation.
And in less than five minutes, one of NPCW's most important executive offices changes hands.
Victoria gathers the Acting Executive Vice President material in front of her.
No anger.
No visible disappointment.
Only organization.
Kristine notices anyway.
She says nothing.
Not here.
Bernard turns toward the next agenda item.
Bernard:
“Which brings us to the problem Ms. Kringle already identified.”
Kristine corrects him.
Kristine Kringle:
“Problems.”
Agenda Item Four — Divisional Governance
Kristine opens a new folder.
Kristine Kringle:
“Alton's promotion creates an immediate vacancy in Mythic.”
She looks around the table.
Kristine Kringle:
“That alone would be manageable.”
A pause.
Kristine Kringle:
“Unfortunately, I also have serious concerns about continuing Elias Coldmere as General Manager of Polar.”
Seraphine's eyes shift toward Kristine.
Lucien's expression does not change.
Scrooge leans forward.
Scrooge:
“Now we're getting somewhere.”
Bernard gives him a warning look.
Kristine continues.
Kristine Kringle:
“We have reason to believe Elias has been compromised by an outside interest.”
Hawthorne's fingers tighten slightly around his cane.
Seraphine remains utterly still.
Kristine Kringle:
“I am not prepared to discuss every intelligence detail in open executive session. But I am prepared to say that recent information has forced us to reconsider several of his decisions.”
Lucien speaks calmly.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Compromised is a significant word.”
Kristine turns toward him.
Kristine Kringle:
“I chose it deliberately.”
She slides several documents toward the center.
Kristine Kringle:
“The Crimson Maulers.”
Another.
Kristine Kringle:
“The Master of the Night.”
Another.
Kristine Kringle:
“Repeated recommendations that appear considerably more questionable now than they did when they were presented.”
Seraphine finally speaks.
Seraphine Viremont:
“Were those contracts not approved by Talent Relations?”
Victoria looks toward her.
Victoria Deschamps:
“They were.”
Seraphine's expression suggests the point has been made.
Victoria continues.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Because Talent Relations trusted our General Managers to recommend talent based upon the interests of NPCW.”
Her voice firms.
Victoria Deschamps:
“We review contractual risk. We do not assume every divisional recommendation conceals a covert agenda.”
Scrooge scoffs.
Scrooge:
“Perhaps we should start.”
Victoria looks toward him.
Victoria Deschamps:
“That would make talent acquisition impossible.”
Scrooge:
“It would make it slower.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“Which is why it would make it impossible.”
Kristine brings the discussion back.
Kristine Kringle:
“My recommendation was going to be Elias's removal.”
Lucien immediately responds.
Lucien Vantrell:
“No.”
The room stills.
Kristine's expression hardens.
Kristine Kringle:
“That wasn't a request for permission.”
Lucien Vantrell:
“And my answer was not permission withheld.”
He leans forward slightly.
Lucien Vantrell:
“It was advice.”
Kristine Kringle:
“Then advise.”
Lucien looks around the room.
Lucien Vantrell:
“You are about to appoint Alton Bell Executive Vice President, creating a vacancy in Mythic, while simultaneously dismissing Elias Coldmere, creating a vacancy in Polar.”
He pauses.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Two flagship divisions without leadership less than two weeks before Fallout.”
Scrooge mutters.
Scrooge:
“That does seem untidy.”
Kristine looks toward him.
Scrooge:
“I didn't say Elias should stay. I said untidy.”
Lucien continues.
Lucien Vantrell:
“There is another problem.”
Bernard gestures for him to proceed.
Lucien Vantrell:
“The position itself.”
Kristine's brows draw together.
Lucien Vantrell:
“General Managers currently possess authority over competition and influence over personnel.”
Victoria immediately understands where he is going.
Lucien Vantrell:
“That combination made sense when the divisions were smaller.”
His eyes move toward Kristine.
Lucien Vantrell:
“It makes considerably less sense now.”
Aurelius sits forward.
Aurelius Valor:
“Separate employment authority from competitive authority.”
Lucien turns slightly toward him.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Yes.”
Victoria considers it.
Kristine looks at her.
Victoria Deschamps:
“It would solve part of the problem.”
Scrooge raises a hand.
Scrooge:
“Define part.”
Victoria answers.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Divisional leadership would retain authority over matchmaking, rankings, championship contenders, tournaments, stipulations and competitive discipline.”
She pauses.
Victoria Deschamps:
“But contracts, hiring, releases, compensation, transfers and employment status would belong exclusively to Talent Relations.”
Dr. Evelyn Hartwell nods.
Dr. Evelyn Hartwell:
“That also creates a review layer when divisional leadership becomes personally involved in an issue.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“Exactly.”
Hawthorne speaks.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“And a compromised divisional leader could manipulate matches.”
A beat.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“But not quietly fill the roster with people serving the same outside interest.”
Lucien looks toward him.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Correct.”
Kristine considers the proposal.
Kristine Kringle:
“So what are you suggesting?”
Lucien folds his hands again.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Abolish the General Manager positions for Polar and Mythic.”
Scrooge stares at him.
Scrooge:
“That's your solution to having no General Managers?”
Lucien Vantrell:
“Yes.”
Scrooge:
“I dislike how much sense that made.”
Aurelius speaks.
Aurelius Valor:
“Replace them with Commissioners.”
Lucien nods.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Competitive authorities. Not employment authorities.”
Bernard looks toward Victoria.
Bernard:
“And Goldie?”
Victoria answers.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Northern Belles is structured differently.”
Kristine agrees.
Kristine Kringle:
“Goldie remains General Manager.”
Bernard nods.
Bernard:
“Hammer Washington?”
Victoria Deschamps:
“The Iron Ring Academy is a developmental institution. Hammer manages coaches, training and academy operations.”
Aurelius speaks firmly.
Aurelius Valor:
“He remains General Manager.”
No one objects.
Kristine looks back toward Lucien.
Kristine Kringle:
“And Elias?”
That is the real question.
Lucien takes a moment.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Retain him.”
Kristine's expression hardens again.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Temporarily.”
Kristine Kringle:
“Doing what?”
Lucien Vantrell:
“Both divisions.”
There is a pause.
Bernard looks at him as though checking whether he heard correctly.
Bernard:
“Both?”
Lucien Vantrell:
“Until a permanent Polar Commissioner is selected.”
Kristine slowly realizes the shape of the compromise.
Lucien continues.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Elias knows both rosters. He has already been involved in Fallout planning. He can maintain Polar through the event while assuming temporary competitive oversight of Mythic following Alton's promotion.”
Hawthorne looks skeptical.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“You want to respond to concerns that Elias has been compromised by giving him another division?”
Lucien meets his gaze.
Lucien Vantrell:
“I want to respond by removing his ability to employ anyone.”
A beat.
Lucien Vantrell:
“And by making every personnel decision he previously influenced pass through Victoria Deschamps.”
Victoria gives him a thoughtful look.
That is not a small concession.
Kristine sees it too.
Kristine Kringle:
“He would have no contract authority.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“None.”
Kristine Kringle:
“No release authority.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“None.”
Kristine Kringle:
“No unilateral roster transfers.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“No.”
Lucien Vantrell:
“He books wrestling.”
A pause.
Lucien Vantrell:
“You employ wrestlers.”
Victoria looks toward Kristine.
Victoria Deschamps:
“I can work with that.”
Kristine is still not convinced.
Kristine Kringle:
“I wanted him gone.”
Lucien responds quietly.
Lucien Vantrell:
“And if further evidence justifies that, you can return to the Board.”
Kristine looks at him.
Lucien Vantrell:
“But today you have an event to produce and two divisions requiring administration.”
Aurelius finally speaks.
Aurelius Valor:
“I support the structural change.”
Kristine turns.
Aurelius Valor:
“Not because I am convinced Elias deserves continued confidence.”
His eyes move briefly toward Lucien.
Aurelius Valor:
“But because limiting the authority of every divisional head is better governance regardless of who occupies the office.”
Dr. Hartwell nods.
Dr. Evelyn Hartwell:
“Agreed.”
Alexander joins them.
Alexander:
“Organizations mature by separating powers that should never have depended upon one individual.”
Scrooge folds his arms.
Scrooge:
“I still think one individual is cheaper.”
Bernard sighs.
Bernard:
“Of course you do.”
The proposal is refined.
By the time Bernard reads it back, the structure is clear.
Bernard:
“Polar Division and Mythic Division General Manager positions are abolished.”
He reads.
Bernard:
“They will be replaced by Commissioner positions responsible for competitive administration.”
Another line.
Bernard:
“Talent contracts, employment decisions, roster transfers and personnel matters will rest exclusively with the Office of Talent Relations.”
He looks toward Victoria.
She nods.
Bernard:
“Goldie Locks remains General Manager of Northern Belles.”
Another.
Bernard:
“Hammer Washington remains General Manager of the Iron Ring Academy.”
Then—
Bernard:
“Elias Coldmere will serve on an interim basis as Commissioner of both the Polar and Mythic Divisions until a permanent Polar Commissioner is appointed, after which his role will be limited to Mythic.”
Kristine looks around the table.
She still dislikes part of it.
But it is considerably better than the arrangement that existed when she entered the room.
Kristine Kringle:
“Then I want his authority reviewed weekly until Fallout.”
Lucien nods.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Reasonable.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“And every personnel request comes directly through me.”
Lucien Vantrell:
“Agreed.”
The vote is called.
The motion passes.
Elias Coldmere has survived.
But the office he entered the morning holding no longer exists.
Agenda Item Five — Seraphine Viremont
Bernard does not immediately continue.
Instead, he removes a separate folder.
Seraphine sees it.
So does Lucien.
The room becomes quiet.
Bernard's tone loses every trace of humor.
Bernard:
“There is one final governance matter.”
He looks directly across the table.
Bernard:
“Seraphine.”
Seraphine Viremont does not move.
Seraphine Viremont:
“I assumed we would reach me eventually.”
Scrooge glances toward Bernard.
Scrooge:
“She says that as though this happens often.”
Seraphine doesn't look at him.
Seraphine Viremont:
“Only when the Board has decided suspicion deserves an agenda item.”
Bernard opens the folder.
Bernard:
“We have received information suggesting that your appointment to this Board may have been influenced by interests outside NPCW.”
Seraphine's expression remains controlled.
Seraphine Viremont:
“Influenced how?”
Bernard:
“Placed.”
The word sits heavily in the room.
Aurelius watches Seraphine carefully.
Hawthorne says nothing.
He and Aurelius had already agreed before entering this room.
Listen.
Then vote based on evidence.
Not fear.
Bernard continues.
Bernard:
“The allegation is that your position here was intended, at least in part, to provide an outside interest with access to NPCW governance.”
Seraphine's eyes narrow.
Seraphine Viremont:
“An allegation from whom?”
Bernard pauses.
Bernard:
“The source remains confidential.”
Seraphine gives a humorless smile.
Seraphine Viremont:
“Convenient.”
Lucien finally speaks.
Lucien Vantrell:
“She has a point.”
Kristine looks toward him.
Lucien continues.
Lucien Vantrell:
“If we are discussing removal of a director, confidential accusation is not sufficient.”
Bernard does not object.
Bernard:
“I agree.”
That catches Seraphine.
Bernard slides copies of the evidence around the table.
It is not much.
Associations.
Patterns.
Information from sources regarded as credible but not independently proven.
Nothing showing Seraphine handing confidential Board documents to another party.
Nothing showing payment.
Nothing proving that a single vote she cast had been directed from outside.
Hawthorne reads every page.
Aurelius does the same.
Dr. Hartwell reaches the end first.
Dr. Evelyn Hartwell:
“This establishes reason for concern.”
She closes the packet.
Dr. Evelyn Hartwell:
“It does not establish misconduct.”
Bernard nods.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Agreed.”
Everyone turns slightly toward him.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“If we remove directors because a credible allegation exists, then none of us is secure from manipulation by accusation.”
Seraphine watches him.
Hawthorne continues.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“That does not mean we ignore it.”
Aurelius picks up the point.
Aurelius Valor:
“The distinction is between insufficient evidence and no concern.”
He looks toward Seraphine.
Aurelius Valor:
“I see insufficient evidence for removal.”
A pause.
Aurelius Valor:
“I do not see sufficient evidence for unrestricted trust.”
Seraphine's jaw tightens.
Scrooge leans forward.
Scrooge:
“Finally. A sentence with practical value.”
Bernard looks toward Seraphine.
Bernard:
“Do you deny that you were placed here to serve another interest?”
Seraphine stares back at him.
Her answer is carefully chosen.
Seraphine Viremont:
“I deny that my service on this Board has been contrary to NPCW's interests.”
Bernard's expression shifts.
Not enough.
Hawthorne notices too.
So does Aurelius.
Bernard:
“That wasn't precisely what I asked.”
Seraphine Viremont:
“It is precisely what I am answering.”
Silence.
Lucien watches her with a look impossible to read.
Kristine looks toward Bernard.
Kristine Kringle:
“I will not support removal on what we have.”
Bernard nods reluctantly.
Kristine Kringle:
“But I will not pretend this changes nothing.”
Seraphine turns toward her.
Kristine Kringle:
“If someone has attempted to place influence at both the divisional and Board level, then our responsibility is containment until we know more.”
Lucien's eyes flick briefly toward her.
Containment.
Not purge.
He understands the strategy immediately.
Bernard looks at the restrictions drafted in front of him.
Bernard:
“Then I propose temporary governance restrictions pending further review.”
Seraphine's expression cools considerably.
Bernard reads them.
Bernard:
“You retain your seat.”
A beat.
Bernard:
“You retain your vote on ordinary Board business.”
Another.
Bernard:
“But effective immediately, you will be excluded from confidential personnel and talent contract materials.”
Victoria listens carefully.
Bernard:
“You will not participate in internal security investigations.”
Another line.
Bernard:
“You will not participate in executive appointment deliberations while the review remains active.”
Seraphine's eyes move toward Lucien.
Then back.
Bernard:
“And where a matter directly concerns Elias Coldmere, Velkan Thorne, the Master of the Night, or known representatives connected to those interests, the Chair may require your recusal.”
Seraphine sits very still.
Seraphine Viremont:
“You are keeping me on the Board while ensuring I cannot function fully as a director.”
Hawthorne responds.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Temporarily.”
Seraphine Viremont:
“Based upon evidence you yourselves admit is insufficient.”
Aurelius Valor:
“Insufficient for removal.”
He meets her eyes.
Aurelius Valor:
“Not insufficient for caution.”
Seraphine looks toward Lucien.
For the first time, there is something almost expectant in her expression.
Lucien takes his time before speaking.
Lucien Vantrell:
“I oppose removing her.”
Bernard nods.
That much was expected.
Lucien Vantrell:
“I also cannot reasonably argue that the Board should ignore a credible intelligence concern while it is investigated.”
Seraphine's eyes harden.
Lucien does not look away.
Lucien Vantrell:
“I support the temporary restrictions.”
That surprises several people.
Including Seraphine.
Scrooge looks delighted by the discomfort.
Scrooge:
“Well. This has become interesting.”
Kris Kringle gives him another look.
Scrooge:
“What? It has.”
Bernard calls the vote.
Seraphine does not vote on the restrictions concerning herself.
The motion passes.
She remains a Board member.
But the walls around her have moved inward.
Bernard signs the order.
He looks around the table.
A new Board representative.
A new Executive Vice President.
Two General Manager positions gone.
Two Commissioner offices created.
Personnel authority centralized under Talent Relations.
A General Manager under suspicion preserved but constrained.
A director under suspicion preserved but restricted.
The company that entered the room no longer exists in quite the same form.
Bernard places his pen down.
Bernard:
“I believe that concludes the agenda.”
Scrooge looks at the stack of resolutions.
Scrooge:
“Concludes?”
He gestures around the table.
Scrooge:
“We replaced an owner representative, replaced an executive, abolished two management positions, invented two new ones, restricted a director and gave Victoria more authority.”
Victoria looks toward him.
Victoria Deschamps:
“You make that last part sound unfortunate.”
Scrooge considers her.
Scrooge:
“I haven't decided yet.”
Bernard rubs his forehead.
Aurelius looks down the table.
Aurelius Valor:
“This was not merely restructuring.”
The room quiets.
Aurelius Valor:
“NPCW has spent much of this year reacting to threats after they entered the company.”
His gaze moves from Seraphine—
—to Lucien—
—to Kristine.
Aurelius Valor:
“Today we finally changed the structure through which they entered.”
Lucien studies him.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Structures create different vulnerabilities.”
Aurelius nods.
Aurelius Valor:
“They do.”
A beat.
Aurelius Valor:
“Which is why governance is never finished.”
Bernard glances toward the agenda.
Then toward everyone gathered around the table.
Bernard:
“A new frontier.”
Kristine looks at him.
Bernard gives a small shrug.
Bernard:
“I told Ebenezer I had a better opening.”
Scrooge shakes his head.
Scrooge:
“You waited too long.”
For the first time in over an hour, several people around the table smile.
Not everyone.
Seraphine closes her folder.
Lucien watches her.
Victoria gathers the personnel resolutions.
Kristine looks at the new organizational chart.
And somewhere outside this room, Alton Bell is about to learn that he has become one of the most powerful executives in NPCW.
Elias Coldmere is about to learn that he kept his job—
but lost his office.
And the Board has just convinced itself that it has contained two compromised pieces.
Whether either piece intends to remain contained is another question entirely.
Part 4 — The Secret Society Lives
Scene One — What Changed
Location: NPCW Headquarters — Executive Corridor
Immediately Following the Board Meeting
The doors to the main Boardroom open.
The meeting empties slowly.
Not like a normal executive gathering where everyone immediately disappears toward elevators, offices and assistants.
Too much has changed.
Conversations begin in fragments.
Bernard remains behind with several documents requiring his signature. Scrooge corners Kris Kringle almost immediately, already arguing about some financial implication buried three decisions beneath the actual agenda. Dr. Evelyn Hartwell walks beside Alexander, discussing the practical limits of the new Commissioner structure.
Aurelius Valor and Sir Alistair Hawthorne leave together.
Seraphine Viremont leaves alone.
Her posture remains immaculate.
Her expression remains composed.
But the distance around her is unmistakable now.
Then comes Lucien Vantrell.
He steps through the doorway carrying a thin black portfolio beneath one arm.
A few hours ago, he had entered NPCW Headquarters as Executive Vice President and heir to an ownership interest not yet formally his to exercise.
Now—
He represents thirty percent of the company.
He sits on its Board.
He leads the Circle of the False Light.
And the executive position he once held belongs to Alton Bell.
Lucien begins walking down the corridor.
Behind him—
Victoria Deschamps:
“Lucien.”
He stops.
Not immediately.
Just enough of a hesitation for Victoria to notice.
Then he turns.
Victoria stands several paces behind him, carrying the folders she brought into the Board meeting. Her expression is professional.
Mostly.
Lucien waits.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Victoria.”
Once, the way he said her name had carried warmth.
A private recognition.
Something beneath the professionalism.
Today it sounds like a title.
Victoria approaches.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Do you have a minute?”
Lucien glances toward the corridor clock.
Lucien Vantrell:
“A minute.”
The answer stings more than she expected.
Victoria shifts the folders beneath one arm.
Victoria Deschamps:
“I haven't heard from you.”
Lucien says nothing.
Victoria Deschamps:
“For weeks.”
Still nothing.
Victoria studies him.
Victoria Deschamps:
“I knew things were difficult after your father died. I knew the succession was going to consume most of your time.”
A pause.
Victoria Deschamps:
“I wasn't expecting dinner reservations and weekend getaways, Lucien.”
There is the faintest attempt at humor.
It finds nothing.
Victoria Deschamps:
“But I thought I would at least hear from you.”
Lucien's face remains still.
Lucien Vantrell:
“I've been occupied.”
Victoria looks at him for a long moment.
Victoria Deschamps:
“I noticed.”
A beat.
She looks down briefly.
Then back up.
Victoria Deschamps:
“And apparently very occupied choosing the person who got the job I have been doing.”
There it is.
Lucien's expression does not change.
Lucien Vantrell:
“The Circle possessed the appointment right.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“I know.”
Lucien Vantrell:
“Then you understand.”
Victoria's eyes narrow.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Understanding the agreement doesn't mean I have to pretend the decision didn't matter.”
Lucien says nothing.
Victoria Deschamps:
“I wasn't entitled to the position.”
Her voice remains controlled.
Victoria Deschamps:
“But I've been doing it.”
A pause.
Victoria Deschamps:
“I've been covering your responsibilities and my own while you've been gone. Kristine believed I had earned the opportunity.”
Lucien's answer comes without hesitation.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Alton was the better appointment.”
That lands harder than she anticipated.
Victoria takes a moment.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Better.”
Lucien Vantrell:
“For the Circle.”
Victoria looks directly at him.
Victoria Deschamps:
“That wasn't what I asked.”
Lucien Vantrell:
“You didn't ask anything.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“No.”
Her jaw tightens slightly.
Victoria Deschamps:
“I suppose I didn't.”
The corridor seems suddenly much quieter.
People have moved away now.
The two are alone.
Victoria's voice softens.
Not weak.
Personal.
Victoria Deschamps:
“What happened?”
Lucien's gaze stays on hers.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Before all this.”
She gestures vaguely toward the Boardroom.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Before Ardan. Before the Circle succession. Before you disappeared.”
Lucien knows exactly what she means.
Victoria continues.
Victoria Deschamps:
“We were fine.”
A small silence.
Victoria Deschamps:
“At least I thought we were.”
Lucien's face gives her nothing.
That hurts more.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Was I wrong?”
He could soften it.
He doesn't.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Things have changed.”
Victoria waits.
Victoria Deschamps:
“That's not an answer.”
Lucien Vantrell:
“It is the only one that matters.”
Her eyes flash.
Victoria Deschamps:
“You don't get to disappear for weeks, walk back in, block my promotion and then give me a sentence that sounds like it came from a legal department.”
Lucien's gaze cools.
Lucien Vantrell:
“I did not block your promotion.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“You appointed someone else.”
Lucien Vantrell:
“Yes.”
Victoria stares at him.
Lucien continues.
Lucien Vantrell:
“My obligations have changed.”
A pause.
Lucien Vantrell:
“My priorities have changed.”
He says the next part deliberately.
Lucien Vantrell:
“And so have we.”
Victoria's expression shifts.
Not dramatically.
She is too controlled for that.
But something behind her eyes gives way.
Victoria Deschamps:
“We?”
Lucien looks at her.
Lucien Vantrell:
“We have grown apart.”
She almost laughs.
There is no humor in it.
Victoria Deschamps:
“You have barely spoken to me long enough for us to grow anywhere.”
Lucien doesn't answer.
Victoria studies him again.
Searching.
For the man who once stood beside her chair without thinking.
The man who complimented her too softly in meetings.
The man who told her he did not dismiss her.
She finds none of him.
Or perhaps she finds someone determined not to let her.
Victoria Deschamps:
“So that's it?”
Lucien's voice remains cold.
Lucien Vantrell:
“I think it should be.”
Another silence.
Victoria swallows.
Then nods.
Once.
Professionalism settles over her like armor.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Fine.”
She adjusts the folders in her arms.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Then we'll keep things professional.”
Lucien Vantrell:
“That would be best.”
That one hurts.
Victoria's eyes hold his.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Congratulations on your Board seat, Mr. Vantrell.”
Lucien's expression tightens almost imperceptibly at the formality.
Lucien Vantrell:
“Thank you, Ms. Deschamps.”
Victoria nods.
Conversation over.
She turns—
Kristine Kringle:
“Victoria.”
Kristine stands farther down the corridor.
She has seen enough to understand that she arrived at the end of something.
She does not ask.
Not here.
Kristine Kringle:
“We need to go.”
Victoria gives one final glance toward Lucien.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Of course.”
She walks toward Kristine.
Lucien remains where he is.
Kristine waits until Victoria reaches her.
Then the two women continue down the corridor together.
For several seconds, Victoria says nothing.
Kristine does not force her to.
They reach the elevators.
Victoria presses the call button.
Kristine finally speaks.
Quietly.
Kristine Kringle:
“You all right?”
Victoria keeps her eyes on the elevator doors.
A beat.
Victoria Deschamps:
“I will be.”
The doors open.
They step inside.
Victoria does not look back.
Lucien does.
Only once.
Then the elevator doors close between them.
Scene Two — The Secret Society Lives
Location: NPCW Headquarters — Restricted Sublevel
The elevator does not travel upward.
It descends.
Past the public executive floors.
Past production.
Past accounting.
Past the secured archive.
Victoria watches the floor numbers disappear from the display.
Then the display itself goes dark.
The elevator continues moving.
She glances toward Kristine.
Victoria Deschamps:
“How far down are we going?”
Kristine Kringle:
“Far enough.”
Victoria raises an eyebrow.
Victoria Deschamps:
“That sounded ominous.”
Kristine Kringle:
“Lady Molly chose the room.”
That explains more than Kristine intended.
Victoria straightens.
The elevator stops.
The doors open onto an unmarked concrete corridor.
No NPCW branding.
No framed photographs.
No corporate signage.
Only old utility lighting and a set of reinforced doors at the far end.
A figure waits beside them.
Constable Noel Jinglemark.
The Sanctuary officer wears a dark winter coat over practical field clothing. No theatrical insignia. No ceremonial armor.
Only a small silver Sanctuary badge near his collar.
He acknowledges Kristine first.
Then Victoria.
Constable Noel Jinglemark:
“President Kringle. Ms. Deschamps.”
Kristine Kringle:
“Constable.”
Noel looks toward the elevator.
Constable Noel Jinglemark:
“You weren't followed.”
Victoria glances behind herself.
Victoria Deschamps:
“I wasn't aware that was a possibility.”
Noel gives her a neutral look.
Constable Noel Jinglemark:
“That's usually when following works best.”
He unlocks the door.
Inside is a secure conference room.
Small.
Windowless.
Shielded.
No networked screens.
No smart devices.
An old-fashioned wooden table sits at its center beneath one white overhead light.
Two people are already waiting.
Bernard.
And Kris Kringle.
Bernard looks up as Kristine and Victoria enter.
Bernard:
“Good. Everyone's here.”
Victoria looks around.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Everyone?”
A voice answers from the darker side of the room.
Lady Molly:
“Everyone who needs to be.”
Lady Molly steps into the light.
Elegant.
Composed.
Her presence has none of Scrooge's volume, Bernard's anxious energy or Lucien's deliberate intimidation.
She does not need any of them.
Sanctuary authority sits naturally upon her.
The Secret Society had relied upon her judgment before. She had coordinated investigations with Holmes and Watson, and when Sanctuary operations required discretion, her instructions had been simple: continue quietly.
Lady Molly gestures toward the chairs.
Lady Molly:
“Please.”
They sit.
Noel remains near the door.
Victoria places her folders beside her chair.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Does this concern Elias?”
Lady Molly:
“Not directly.”
Kristine Kringle:
“Seraphine?”
Lady Molly shakes her head.
Lady Molly:
“No.”
Bernard leans forward.
Bernard:
“Then what exactly are we doing several floors beneath our own headquarters?”
Lady Molly looks toward him.
Lady Molly:
“Discussing Jacques Renaud.”
Bernard's expression changes.
Victoria glances toward Kristine.
Bernard:
“I was given an update on Jacques this morning.”
Lady Molly nods.
Lady Molly:
“I know.”
That catches him.
Bernard:
“You know?”
Lady Molly:
“Sanctuary does not operate entirely without information, Bernard.”
Bernard:
“Apparently.”
Kris Kringle watches quietly.
Lady Molly places a thin file on the table.
Lady Molly:
“You were told that Jacques appears to have been the individual responsible for hiring the Envoy.”
Bernard nods.
Bernard:
“Yes.”
Lady Molly:
“That assessment is correct.”
Bernard relaxes slightly.
Only slightly.
Lady Molly continues.
Lady Molly:
“It is also incomplete.”
The relaxation disappears.
Victoria sits forward.
Victoria Deschamps:
“How incomplete?”
Lady Molly looks toward Noel.
He opens a small folder of his own.
Constable Noel Jinglemark:
“We reviewed the movement surrounding Renaud's contacts, financial arrangements and travel.”
He places several documents on the table.
Constable Noel Jinglemark:
“Nothing individually proves another participant.”
A pause.
Constable Noel Jinglemark:
“Together, they raise questions.”
Bernard looks toward Lady Molly.
Bernard:
“What kind of questions?”
Lady Molly folds her hands.
Lady Molly:
“The kind that make me uncomfortable accepting Jacques Renaud as the end of the investigation.”
Silence.
Kristine Kringle:
“You believe someone was behind him.”
Lady Molly:
“I believe that is possible.”
Victoria studies her.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Possible or likely?”
Lady Molly appreciates the distinction.
Lady Molly:
“Likely enough that I asked for this meeting.”
That is answer enough.
Kris finally speaks.
Kris Kringle:
“What doesn't fit?”
Lady Molly looks toward him.
Lady Molly:
“Jacques has motive.”
She counts the points carefully.
Lady Molly:
“He has resentment.”
Another.
Lady Molly:
“He has enough remaining resources to hire people who prefer not to ask questions.”
Another.
Lady Molly:
“And he possesses exactly the kind of ego that would make retaliation attractive.”
Bernard nods.
Bernard:
“That sounds rather complete.”
Lady Molly:
“Except his reach exceeds what his current position should reasonably support.”
The room quiets.
Lady Molly:
“Some of the doors that opened for him should have remained closed.”
Victoria understands immediately.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Someone opened them.”
Lady Molly:
“Perhaps.”
Kristine Kringle:
“Or Jacques has resources we don't know about.”
Lady Molly:
“Also possible.”
Bernard looks between them.
Bernard:
“So we have a disgraced former executive who may have been working for someone else, but we don't know who that someone is.”
Lady Molly:
“That is an accurate summary.”
Bernard exhales.
Bernard:
“I liked Reggie's version better.”
Lady Molly's eyes settle on him.
Bernard notices.
A beat.
Bernard:
“You've spoken with Reggie?”
Lady Molly:
“I did not say that.”
Bernard considers pushing.
Then decides against it.
For once.
Victoria looks down at the documents.
Victoria Deschamps:
“What was the ultimate objective?”
Lady Molly shakes her head.
Lady Molly:
“That is what concerns me.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“The Circle ownership?”
Lady Molly:
“That was certainly the immediate route.”
Kristine Kringle:
“The Envoy attempted to influence the succession. If Lucien had failed, Jacques might have gained access through whoever replaced him.”
Lady Molly:
“Yes.”
She pauses.
Lady Molly:
“But thirty percent of NPCW is an extraordinary prize for a revenge scheme.”
Kris nods slowly.
Kris Kringle:
“Revenge destroys.”
His eyes narrow.
Kris Kringle:
“This sounds like someone wanted to own what remained afterward.”
Lady Molly looks at him approvingly.
Lady Molly:
“Exactly.”
Bernard sits back.
For once, there is no humor in him.
Bernard:
“Then we warn the Board.”
Lady Molly answers immediately.
Lady Molly:
“No.”
Bernard looks at her.
Bernard:
“No?”
Lady Molly:
“No.”
Bernard:
“We just spent an entire meeting discussing outside infiltration.”
Lady Molly:
“I am aware.”
Bernard:
“We restricted Seraphine because she may be compromised.”
Lady Molly:
“Precisely.”
Bernard stops.
Lady Molly leans forward slightly.
Lady Molly:
“You have just established that at least one person sitting on the Board may have loyalties outside NPCW.”
A pause.
Lady Molly:
“You have another new director whose obligations extend into an organization with interests of its own.”
Lucien.
Nobody needs her to say the name.
Lady Molly:
“You have Ebenezer Scrooge, whose alliances often follow opportunity.”
Bernard almost objects.
Almost.
Then decides he cannot honestly argue.
Lady Molly:
“And you have an unknown party attempting to secure influence inside your company.”
She looks around the table.
Lady Molly:
“Until we know who that party is, every additional person told about this investigation becomes another possible route by which the investigation becomes known.”
Bernard's expression hardens.
Bernard:
“I don't like treating my own Board as suspects.”
Lady Molly:
“Then don't.”
A beat.
Lady Molly:
“Treat information as something earned by necessity.”
Bernard looks dissatisfied.
Bernard:
“Aurelius.”
Lady Molly waits.
Bernard:
“Aurelius Valor should know.”
Victoria looks toward him.
Bernard:
“He is a man of honor.”
Lady Molly's expression remains calm.
Lady Molly:
“Is he?”
That catches Bernard.
Bernard:
“Yes.”
Lady Molly:
“How do you know?”
Bernard looks almost offended.
Bernard:
“I've served on this Board with him.”
Lady Molly:
“For months.”
Bernard:
“I've seen how he conducts himself.”
Lady Molly:
“You've seen how he conducts himself here.”
Bernard's mouth closes.
Lady Molly continues.
Lady Molly:
“What do you actually know about Aurelius Valor?”
Bernard looks toward Kristine.
Then Kris.
Lady Molly doesn't allow the silence to rescue him.
Lady Molly:
“Valor International Holdings is substantial.”
She pauses.
Lady Molly:
“Aurelius is wealthy.”
Another.
Lady Molly:
“Connected.”
Another.
Lady Molly:
“Disciplined.”
Another.
Lady Molly:
“Publicly philanthropic. Privately influential.”
She folds her hands.
Lady Molly:
“And beyond the polished profiles, business holdings and stories people repeat about him, what do you know?”
Bernard does not immediately answer.
Lady Molly:
“The information surrounding Aurelius Valor is surprisingly superficial for someone with his resources.”
Victoria's expression becomes thoughtful.
Victoria Deschamps:
“You investigated him?”
Lady Molly:
“We examine anyone standing near a threat.”
Bernard shakes his head.
Bernard:
“That doesn't make him one.”
Lady Molly:
“I didn't say it did.”
A quiet beat.
Lady Molly:
“I am telling you that trust and knowledge are not the same thing.”
Bernard's eyes narrow.
Before he can respond—
Kris Kringle:
“I know him.”
Everyone looks toward Kris.
Lady Molly studies him.
Lady Molly:
“How well?”
Kris does not answer quickly.
When he does, there is certainty in it.
Kris Kringle:
“Well enough.”
Lady Molly waits for more.
Kris gives it.
Kris Kringle:
“Aurelius Valor is a good man.”
Bernard nods immediately.
Kris continues.
Kris Kringle:
“He is secretive.”
A faint smile.
Kris Kringle:
“So am I.”
Lady Molly accepts the point.
Kris Kringle:
“He has resources he doesn't advertise. Relationships he doesn't explain. Places he's been that never appear in a corporate biography.”
Victoria looks intrigued.
Kris's expression becomes serious.
Kris Kringle:
“But I have seen the choices he makes when there is no audience.”
A beat.
Kris Kringle:
“I trust him.”
Lady Molly holds his gaze.
Lady Molly:
“Enough to place this investigation in his hands?”
Kris considers.
Then shakes his head.
Bernard turns toward him, surprised.
Kris Kringle:
“Not yet.”
Bernard frowns.
Kris Kringle:
“Trust does not require telling someone everything before there is anything useful for them to do.”
Lady Molly gives the smallest nod.
Kris Kringle:
“If this becomes something Aurelius can help with, we bring him in.”
He looks around the table.
Kris Kringle:
“But Lady Molly is right about one thing.”
A pause.
Kris Kringle:
“We don't know what we're dealing with.”
Kristine folds her arms.
Kristine Kringle:
“Then we keep the circle small.”
Victoria glances at her.
The choice of words is not lost on anyone.
Bernard notices too.
Bernard:
“Perhaps another word.”
For the first time, the tension loosens slightly.
Victoria almost smiles.
Victoria Deschamps:
“Group?”
Bernard:
“Better.”
Lady Molly does not smile.
But something close passes through her eyes.
Lady Molly:
“Agreed.”
She looks toward Noel.
Lady Molly:
“Sanctuary will continue the investigation.”
Noel nods.
Lady Molly:
“I have people reviewing financial records, travel patterns, communications and known intermediaries.”
Victoria looks at her carefully.
Victoria Deschamps:
“People?”
Lady Molly:
“People.”
No names.
Victoria recognizes the boundary.
She does not press.
Lady Molly:
“If we identify whoever sits behind Jacques Renaud, you will know.”
Bernard leans forward.
Bernard:
“And until then?”
Lady Molly:
“Until then, you behave normally.”
Bernard blinks.
Bernard:
“Normal by NPCW standards or normal by actual standards?”
Kris allows himself a quiet chuckle.
Lady Molly remains perfectly straight-faced.
Lady Molly:
“Whichever attracts less attention.”
Bernard nods solemnly.
Bernard:
“That is probably actual standards.”
Kristine shakes her head.
Then Lady Molly's tone changes.
All humor disappears.
Lady Molly:
“One more thing.”
Everyone looks toward her.
Lady Molly:
“Do not begin seeing enemies in every office.”
A pause.
Lady Molly:
“That is how hidden enemies win.”
She looks first toward Kristine.
Then Victoria.
Then Bernard.
Then Kris.
Lady Molly:
“We investigate facts.”
A beat.
Lady Molly:
“We verify.”
Another.
Lady Molly:
“We act when action is justified.”
Her eyes settle on Bernard.
Lady Molly:
“We do not destroy trust merely because someone else has learned to exploit it.”
Bernard slowly nods.
Bernard:
“Agreed.”
Kristine does the same.
Kristine Kringle:
“Agreed.”
Victoria looks around the table.
A President.
An owner and former Watcher.
A Chairman.
The head of Sanctuary.
A Sanctuary constable.
And herself.
It feels strangely familiar.
Not because the people are identical.
They aren't.
Not because the enemy is known.
It isn't.
But because NPCW had been here before.
A handful of people sitting in a room nobody else knew existed.
Comparing fragments.
Sharing only what could safely be shared.
Trying to recognize the shape of a threat before it became too large to stop.
Victoria looks toward Lady Molly.
Victoria Deschamps:
“So what do we call this?”
Bernard looks at her.
Bernard:
“Please don't say committee.”
Kris smiles faintly.
Kris Kringle:
“We don't call it anything.”
Lady Molly closes the file.
Lady Molly:
“Names create records.”
Noel moves toward the door.
Lady Molly:
“And records create trails.”
The lock disengages.
Bernard stands.
Bernard:
“Fine.”
He straightens his jacket.
Bernard:
“No name.”
A beat.
Bernard:
“No committee.”
Another.
Bernard:
“No paperwork.”
Kristine raises an eyebrow.
Kristine Kringle:
“You're enjoying this.”
Bernard considers it.
Bernard:
“A little.”
They begin gathering their things.
Lady Molly remains seated.
Watching them.
The Secret Society had once been born because too many dangers had learned to hide inside ordinary structures.
It had fought vampires.
Conspiracies.
Brainwashing.
False identities.
Things that wore friendly faces because darkness had discovered masks were more useful than armies.
And now—
No charter was signed.
No membership list was written.
No vote was taken.
But beneath NPCW Headquarters, behind a locked door no ordinary employee knew existed, a handful of old allies had quietly chosen to trust one another again.
The Secret Society had never truly died.
It had simply been waiting for another secret.
CUT TO BLACK.
Part 5 — A Most Dangerous Turn
Scene One — The News From Paris
Location: NPCW Headquarters — Private Ownership Suite
Later That Evening
The Board meeting is over.
For the first time all day, nobody in the private ownership suite is carrying a folder.
No resolutions wait to be signed.
No lawyers are hovering beyond the door.
No one is discussing voting rights, executive appointments, personnel authority, or the disturbing number of people associated with NPCW who apparently answer to organizations nobody knew existed six months ago.
The lights have been dimmed.
Beyond the broad windows, the North Pole stretches beneath a darkening sky. Snow moves gently across the grounds surrounding NPCW Headquarters, catching the exterior lights in soft white sheets.
Inside, three men have earned themselves a drink.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne sits in a deep leather chair beside the window, one hand loosely wrapped around a glass of whisky.
Aurelius Valor occupies the chair opposite him, jacket unbuttoned for perhaps the first time all day. A glass of amber liquor rests in his hand.
Reggie Blackmoor has taken possession of the sofa.
His coat has been thrown across the back of it. His tie has been loosened. One boot rests over the opposite knee as he studies the contents of his own glass with considerably more suspicion than the investigation probably requires.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“I will say this for corporate governance.”
Aurelius looks toward him.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“It dramatically improves alcohol.”
Hawthorne gives him a tired look.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“You were not even in the Board meeting.”
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Exactly.”
He raises the glass.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“I had to wait outside knowing all of you were discussing potentially catastrophic matters without me available to interrupt.”
Aurelius allows a faint smile.
Aurelius Valor:
“A hardship.”
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Severe.”
Hawthorne takes a slow drink.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“All things considered, I believe the meeting went better than it could have.”
Reggie lowers his glass.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“That's a remarkably British way of saying nobody was removed by security.”
Hawthorne ignores him.
Aurelius looks out through the window.
Aurelius Valor:
“I would call the outcome cautiously constructive.”
Reggie Blackmoor:
“There. That's much wealthier.”
Aurelius glances toward him.
Reggie grins.
Aurelius continues.
Aurelius Valor:
“Lucien's confirmation was inevitable. Better to formalize what already existed than leave thirty percent of the company in some artificial state of uncertainty.”
Hawthorne nods.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Agreed.”
Aurelius Valor:
“Alton Bell concerns me less as Executive Vice President than Lucien holding both positions simultaneously would have.”
Reggie raises his glass slightly.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“A low bar, but an important one.”
Hawthorne looks toward Aurelius.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“And the restructuring?”
Aurelius considers.
Aurelius Valor:
“Sensible.”
He sets his glass down.
Aurelius Valor:
“Separating employment authority from divisional authority should have happened earlier.”
Hawthorne nods.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“It limits the damage any single compromised individual can cause.”
Reggie looks between them.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“You both understand how reassuring it is to hear the phrase ‘single compromised individual’ spoken as though we've narrowed the list.”
Neither man laughs.
Reggie considers that.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Tough room.”
Hawthorne's expression turns more serious.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“I remain uncomfortable with Elias.”
Aurelius Valor:
“As do I.”
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“And Seraphine.”
Aurelius reaches for his glass again.
Aurelius Valor:
“We did what the evidence allowed.”
Hawthorne considers that.
Then nods.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Yes.”
A beat.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“I would rather be accused of caution than injustice.”
Reggie raises his glass.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“To extremely inconvenient principles.”
Hawthorne finally gives him the faintest smile.
Then—
A soft vibration cuts across the room.
Reggie's phone.
He glances down at the device beside him.
The screen lights.
A message.
Reggie's expression changes.
Not dramatically.
But Aurelius notices.
So does Hawthorne.
Reggie places his glass down.
He picks up the phone.
The message contains five words.
RENAUD IS DEAD. CHECK NEWS.
For a second, Reggie does nothing.
Then he stands.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“What is it?”
Reggie does not answer immediately.
He reaches for the television remote on the side table and turns on the wall-mounted screen.
The television activates in the middle of an international news broadcast.
A reporter stands outside an elegant Parisian townhouse.
A photograph fills one side of the screen.
Jacques Renaud.
The disgraced former KWO President.
The audio comes into focus.
News Reporter:
“—French authorities have stated that there are currently no indications of foul play. Emergency services were called to Mr. Renaud's Paris residence earlier this evening after he was found unresponsive.”
Reggie steps closer to the television.
Hawthorne rises from his chair.
Aurelius remains seated but his attention is completely fixed on the screen.
News Reporter:
“Preliminary information suggests that Jacques Renaud suffered a sudden cardiac event. He was pronounced dead at the residence.”
An older photograph appears.
Renaud behind a KWO podium.
Another.
Renaud entering an arena.
News Reporter:
“Renaud was once one of the most influential executives in professional wrestling before his controversial departure from KWO. In recent months, he had largely remained outside public view.”
The report returns to the journalist.
News Reporter:
“An official cause of death will be confirmed following further examination, though sources close to the investigation continue to describe the death as consistent with a heart attack.”
The segment changes.
Another story begins.
Nobody in the room moves.
Reggie slowly lowers the remote.
Hawthorne looks toward him.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Well.”
A beat.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“That isn't suspicious at all, is it?”
Reggie says nothing.
The humor in Hawthorne's voice disappears almost immediately.
Aurelius stands.
Aurelius Valor:
“Reggie.”
Reggie looks toward him.
Aurelius studies his face.
Aurelius Valor:
“This morning you told us Jacques Renaud appeared to be the end of the trail.”
Reggie remains quiet.
Aurelius Valor:
“I asked whether there might be something deeper behind him.”
A pause.
Aurelius Valor:
“You said no.”
Hawthorne looks from Aurelius to Reggie.
Reggie exhales slowly.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“I did.”
Aurelius Valor:
“Are you still certain?”
There is no joke this time.
No evasion.
Reggie looks back toward the photograph still lingering in the corner of the television screen.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“No.”
That answer changes the room.
Hawthorne's brows tighten.
Aurelius says nothing.
Reggie looks at the message again.
His thumb moves across the screen.
One character.
One question.
M?
He sends it.
The three men wait.
Five seconds.
Ten.
The phone vibrates.
Reggie looks down.
One word.
YES.
The blood seems to leave his face.
Not completely.
Just enough.
Hawthorne notices.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Reggie?”
Before Reggie can answer, the phone vibrates again.
A second message.
MEET ME.
Beneath it—
A set of coordinates.
No name.
No explanation.
Reggie stares at them.
He already knows who sent them.
And, more importantly, what the single letter he had typed now means.
Moriarty.
The possibility he had deliberately withheld that morning has just become considerably less theoretical.
Reggie locks the phone.
He reaches for his coat.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Something's come up.”
Hawthorne watches him put the coat on.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“I gathered.”
Reggie reaches for his gloves.
Aurelius Valor:
“Where are you going?”
Reggie pauses.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“To speak with someone.”
Aurelius's gaze sharpens.
Aurelius Valor:
“Someone connected to Renaud?”
Reggie looks at him.
A moment passes.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Possibly.”
It is the closest either man is going to receive to an answer.
Hawthorne understands.
He steps toward Reggie.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Be careful.”
Reggie gives him a faint smile.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“I am always careful.”
Hawthorne stares at him.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“No.”
A beat.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“You are occasionally lucky.”
Reggie considers that.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Also useful.”
Hawthorne places one hand briefly against Reggie's shoulder.
The humor is gone now.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“If you need anything—anything at all—you call me.”
Reggie's expression softens.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“I know.”
Hawthorne holds his gaze.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“I mean it.”
Reggie Blackmoor:
“So do I.”
Reggie looks toward Aurelius.
Aurelius gives one measured nod.
Aurelius Valor:
“Don't underestimate whatever you're walking toward.”
Reggie slips his phone into his coat.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“I've spent most of my adult life walking toward things sensible people avoid.”
He heads toward the door.
Stops.
Looks back.
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Do try to leave some whisky for when I return.”
Hawthorne gestures toward the bottle.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“That depends upon how long you're gone.”
Reggie Blackmoor:
“Now that's motivation.”
He leaves.
The door closes.
Silence.
Aurelius remains looking at it.
Hawthorne walks back toward his chair.
He does not sit.
After several seconds—
Aurelius Valor:
“He knows something.”
Hawthorne looks toward him.
Aurelius Valor:
“Something he hasn't told us.”
Hawthorne is quiet.
Then—
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Yes.”
Aurelius turns toward him.
He had perhaps expected denial.
Aurelius Valor:
“And that does not concern you?”
Hawthorne looks at the closed door.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“I have known Reggie Blackmoor for many years.”
A pause.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“I have seen him lie.”
Aurelius raises an eyebrow.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Badly, when it is unimportant.”
A small beat.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Brilliantly, when someone's life depends upon it.”
Aurelius absorbs that.
Hawthorne finally sits.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“I trust him implicitly.”
Aurelius Valor:
“Even when he keeps things from you?”
Hawthorne reaches for his whisky.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Especially then.”
Aurelius studies him.
Hawthorne continues.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“If Reggie believes there is something I should not know yet, then he has a reason.”
A beat.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“I may dislike the reason when I eventually learn it.”
He takes a drink.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“But I trust the man who made the decision.”
Aurelius looks back toward the television.
Jacques Renaud's photograph appears again in a small sidebar as the network promotes its next update.
Aurelius Valor:
“A heart attack.”
Hawthorne follows his gaze.
Sir Alistair Hawthorne:
“Convenient.”
Aurelius's expression hardens.
Aurelius Valor:
“Very.”
Scene Two — The Game's Afoot
Location: NPCW Headquarters — Executive Lobby
Same Evening
Several floors below, the day is finally ending for everyone else.
Kristine Kringle exits the executive elevators with Victoria Deschamps beside her.
Bernard waits near the front reception area.
His jacket is buttoned.
His briefcase is in one hand.
For the first time today, he looks like a man preparing to leave NPCW rather than reorganize it.
Bernard:
“Excellent.”
Kristine looks at him.
Kristine Kringle:
“What?”
Bernard:
“You're both here.”
Victoria raises an eyebrow.
Victoria Deschamps:
“That generally happens when people arrange dinner together.”
Bernard nods.
Bernard:
“Yes, but schedules change.”
He gestures toward the exit.
Bernard:
“I have spent all afternoon changing other people's schedules. I no longer trust them.”
Victoria gives Kristine a look.
Kristine almost smiles.
The three begin walking toward the main doors.
Outside, the snow has grown heavier.
A company vehicle waits beyond the covered entrance.
Kristine Kringle:
“Where did you make the reservation?”
Bernard looks vaguely offended.
Bernard:
“I didn't.”
Kristine stops walking.
Kristine Kringle:
“Bernard.”
Bernard:
“I delegated.”
Victoria looks at him.
Victoria Deschamps:
“To whom?”
Bernard hesitates.
Bernard:
“My assistant.”
Kristine starts walking again.
Kristine Kringle:
“So you don't know where we're going.”
Bernard:
“I know it serves food.”
Victoria Deschamps:
“A promising start.”
Bernard opens his mouth to defend himself.
Kristine's phone vibrates.
She stops.
The screen illuminates with a breaking-news alert.
Her expression changes.
Victoria notices immediately.
Victoria Deschamps:
“What?”
Kristine reads.
Then looks up at them.
Kristine Kringle:
“Jacques Renaud is dead.”
Bernard's humor disappears.
Bernard:
“What?”
Kristine opens the article.
Kristine Kringle:
“Paris authorities say he was found unresponsive at his home earlier this evening.”
Victoria steps closer.
Kristine scrolls.
Kristine Kringle:
“Preliminary cause appears to be cardiac arrest.”
Bernard stares at her.
Bernard:
“A heart attack.”
Kristine Kringle:
“Apparently.”
Victoria's expression hardens.
The secret meeting beneath Headquarters is suddenly fresh in all three minds.
Lady Molly's warning.
Jacques may not have been acting alone.
Someone may have been standing behind him.
Victoria speaks first.
Victoria Deschamps:
“That timing is extraordinary.”
Kristine lowers the phone.
Kristine Kringle:
“Yes.”
Bernard looks between the two women.
He takes a long breath.
Then—
Bernard:
“Well.”
A pause.
He adjusts the briefcase in his hand.
Bernard:
“As Holmes would say…”
Kristine already knows what's coming.
Victoria does too.
Bernard's expression becomes grim despite the quotation.
Bernard:
“It seems the game's afoot.”
Nobody laughs.
Because this time—
Bernard may be exactly right.
The camera remains on the three of them for one final moment.
Behind the glass doors, snow falls across NPCW Headquarters.
Somewhere beyond those grounds, Reggie Blackmoor is already traveling toward a set of coordinates sent by someone who knows the truth.
Jacques Renaud is dead.
The Envoy remains somewhere in the shadows.
An unknown hand may still be reaching toward NPCW.
And on the day its leaders believed they had finally strengthened the walls—
someone had just removed a witness.
FADE TO BLACK.
No comments:
Post a Comment