Chapter 166: The President of Russia Arrives

The world was asleep, but the White House was alive with movement. Security teams worked with surgical precision, sweeping every corner, monitoring every camera feed, ensuring that the most significant diplomatic confrontation in recent history would not spiral into chaos.

In the Oval Office, Chris stood near the window, his gaze fixed on the driveway outside. Ethan was beside him, speaking in hushed tones.

"It's confirmed," Ethan said. "He's coming himself."

Chris smirked slightly. "Mikhailov or Petrov?"

Ethan shook his head. "Neither. It's him."

Chris turned, the amusement in his expression fading into something colder. "The President of Russia?"

Ethan nodded. "Konstantin Volkov. He lands in thirty minutes."

Chris exhaled, though his stance remained unreadable. This changed everything. Volkov wasn't a bureaucrat or a diplomat. He was the man pulling Russia's strings. If he was coming in person, it meant one thing—this wasn't just about warnings anymore. This was about control.

"They're playing their strongest card," Ethan muttered. "Coming to us, in our own house, to make it look like they aren't the ones on the defensive."

Chris turned back to the window. "Then let's remind him whose house this is."

---

Joint Base Andrews – 1:05 AM

A Russian Ilyushin Il-96 landed under heavy escort. The aircraft taxied smoothly, coming to a halt as black SUVs lined up nearby. The moment the door opened, the tension in the air thickened.

President Konstantin Volkov stepped out, his expression neutral, unreadable. He was a tall man, broad-shouldered, with sharp eyes that had seen the fall and rise of power more times than most. He didn't look like a man who had been summoned—he looked like a man who had come to remind the world that he didn't answer to anyone.

Behind him, high-ranking officials followed, their movements precise, their presence unmistakable. Sergei Mikhailov, his chief strategist, and General Orlov, his military enforcer, flanked him. Secret Service agents watched from a distance, their hands close to their weapons, as Volkov stepped into the waiting limousine.

The convoy sped toward the White House.

---

White House – 1:30 AM

The Russian motorcade arrived at the South Entrance, escorted by unmarked Secret Service vehicles. The doors opened, and Volkov stepped out, his eyes scanning the grand structure of the White House.

Chris was already waiting inside the East Room, standing at the head of a long, polished table. Ethan stood beside him, Blackwood operatives positioned discreetly throughout the room. This wasn't just about a meeting—it was a confrontation.

The double doors opened, and Volkov entered.

For a moment, the room seemed to shrink as two of the most powerful men in the world locked eyes.

Chris smirked slightly. "Mr. President. Welcome to Washington."

Volkov gave a small nod. "Mr. Blackwood." He removed his coat, handing it off to an aide. "A rare occasion. Two world leaders meeting face to face… in the middle of the night."

Chris gestured to the chair opposite him. "You came a long way. Let's not waste time."

Volkov chuckled, sitting down. "Straight to business. I can respect that."

As the rest of the Russian officials settled into their seats, the tension in the room sharpened.

Chris leaned forward slightly. "You didn't come all this way just to talk. So let's hear it—what does Moscow want?"

Volkov studied him for a moment before speaking. "The real question, Mr. Blackwood, is what do you want?"

Chris's smirk didn't fade.

"Control."

And the game began.