30-10-2025, 09:55 PM
[continuation of the previous post]
Magliano Solìa's face remained unruffled.
«The Crown is aware of the risks and for this very reason the Imperial House, just like you, will demand the utmost care and discretion to avoid exposing you to scandal. However, His Majesty has reiterated that we cannot stand by idly as Wiel's strategic blackmail continues. The interests, not only of Istalians but of the entire continent, and its stability, are constantly undermined by Vanuku. This sword of Damocles cannot continue to hang over the governments of all Majatra.»
Cantalamessa sat back behind her desk, slowly, with a look of regret.
«Mr. Secretary» continued the First Attendant «Today we are the most influential nation on the continent, our interests extend even beyond. We have worked decade after decade to get where we are today, and if we want to defend our position, we must make decisions that are sometimes very uncomfortable and controversial. Regardless of political affiliation, we have all sworn, first and foremost, to defend the Homeland, its citizens and its interests.»
Cantalamessa took a deep breath. All eyes were on her, waiting for an answer. But a furious battle raged inside her. Fears and doubts clashed with opportunities and benefits, and it was difficult to weigh and reflect on the risks, responsibilities and choices that power places on your path. But there, everyone was waiting only for her answer.
Finally, after a seemingly endless wait, as the first drops of rain began to wet the windowpane, beyond which the sea was now roaring, Cantalamessa spoke, her face almost hidden behind clasped hands, her elbows firmly planted on the desk:
«Prepare a detailed plan. I want figures, timescales, structures, names and risk assessments, either diplomatic, geostrategic, military... everything!»
She paused, and as if talking to herself, as if trying to convince herself and ease her conscience, she said, almost sighing:
«Vanuku certainly won't be knocked out by a boycott, but even a twenty or thirty percent loss of traffic would be a significant blow. Perhaps... enough to make them rethink their attitude...»
Then she began to mentally note the main issues: costs, sources of funding, risk of infos leaking, political approval, the Deltaria's discretion.
«So, have I been clear? I want to know where we're getting the money, how much we have to spend, what infrastructure is needed, which ports and which companies to contact. And I want the same details from Deltaria too. Have I been clear? I repeat: timescales, risks, measures and countermeasures in the secrecy procedures.»
He gave everyone a meaningful look before continuing:
«I want to see if something like this is feasible. I also want a legal assessment and a political simulation: if the Defense Committee or the Treasury Committee, the press, whoever, were to put us under the microscope, what arguments and what numbers will we use? I won't accept improvisation. I will examine it with my closest collaborators, I will discuss it with the Emperor and, of course, with Prime Minister Horvat. If Deltaria is unable to maintain the necessary discretion, we will not lift a finger.
We cannot afford a joint operation that shows flaws right from the start.»
The Director nodded, calm as ever, although a hint of a smile was slipping from his face.
«I will have a detailed plan ready for you in three days. Estimated numbers, impact scenarios, lists of ports and companies with which to initiate preliminary contacts. We will also include proposals for infrastructure and cooperative interventions to be presented to SOMECO and our other continental partners. You will have everything you asked for.»
The guests exchanged a final glance, then slowly, one by one, stood and waited for Cantalamessa, who looked at them all over a last time, to rise and escort them to the door.
As he greeted them at the door, through which the rain and wind were insinuating themselves relentlessly, he indulged in the usual chatter and automatic formalities: “What a rain”, “Bundle up”, “Drive slowly” to those who had come by their personal car. But inside her, the battle had become conflict, and then war, between the sense of responsibility, duty, opportunity, risks, doubts, political fears, personal anxieties, and her own ethical and moral convictions.
Left alone in the house, other thoughts and reflections on the operation began to add to that internal conflict, and she considered the implications: the enormous logistical effort, the international network of companies, the need to compartmentalize information, the possible accounting cover-ups. At the same time, her mind returned to the words she had uttered earlier: even a partial reduction in traffic would reduce Wiel's power of blackmail other nations.
And then she was surprised to feel, alongside her fear, a strange excitement, not for the risk itself, but for the power to manipulate the levers of geopolitics. It was a sensation that put her at odds with her principles, yet it drew her like a riddle to be solved.
"I'm not authorizing anything today" she told herself with inner determination "But I want to see the plan. And I want to know how far we're willing to go".
She realized her heart was beating faster. Not only because of the gravity of what she had just heard, but also because of the excitement of being faced with a game as dangerous as it was ingenious.
"What's happening to me?" she thought.
The idea of striking Vanuku, not with a fleet or an official embargo, but with an invisible weapon, made of money and silence, fascinated her. And that very realization made her shiver.