The midday sun beat down upon the sprawling granite expanse of Sovereign Capital Sky Tower, reflecting off polished stone slabs and high glass walls with blinding clarity. Around the perimeter of Constitution Avenue, metropolitan police had cordoned off three city blocks to contain a crowd of nearly eight thousand onlookers, while five hundred television cameras and satellite vans formed a dense wall of electronics along the plaza curbs.
At fifteen minutes past eleven, a single black government sedan pulled past the security barriers without the customary wailing escorts or motorcycle outriders that usually announced executive arrivals. The car rolled to a silent halt beside the base of the grand granite staircase, its dark paint coated in road dust.
The rear door clicked open, and Raymo
