They met Voss on neutral territory — a trade attorney's conference suite, third-party hosted, all parties technically civil.
Voss arrived with two lawyers and a PA. He looked, in person, exactly as he looked in every photograph and video feed — the silver hair, the carved face, the absolute, compacted certainty of a man who had never been challenged and survived to learn better.
He looked at Naomi when she walked in.
She looked back.
She sat down across the table from him.
Damian sat at her right.
Priya Nair sat at her left.
And Clement Briggs — under immunity, under protection, looking like a man who had lost thirty pounds in three weeks but still walked into the room — sat at the far end of the table and did not look away from Voss.
Voss's expression didn't crack. But something s
