Alpha Dante Ashford was scheduled to leave at precisely noon.
The Ironveil convoy was staged in the centre of the main courtyard: three heavily armoured black SUVs, his elite tactical guard, and the two foreign council liaisons who had attended the summit. It was efficient, unhurried presentation. It was the deliberate departure of a powerful warlord who had secured exactly what he came for, and who was perfectly comfortable letting that satisfaction be visible to the rest of the world.
Alpha Caius Voss had reviewed the signed treaty documentation twice that morning. Every single metric was technically correct. The alliance framework was solid, and the territorial concessions were minor, manageable, and strategically acceptable. By any logical measure, the high-level summit had been an a
