13
Washington D.C.
Having flown in on a government jet, Gilmore was now the recipient of his own personal motorcade. A black, bulletproof SUV travelled fast behind a police bike, its lights flashing silent as they sped along empty four A.M. highways.
The sun was already on the rise, casting the city in a hazy grey. And as the SUV rolled downhill, Gilmore had a clear view of Capitol Hill in the distance. The five-hundred-foot Washington Monument pierced the sky ahead of the iconic White House.
At least this president was known for being more lenient than his predecessor, Gilmore thought, adjusting the knot of his tie.
In the smooth, soundproof confines of the SUV, he wondered how the administration had found out about Wildcard.
From data leaked by the hackers? Gilmore didn’t think so.
