Praetorian Guard Constantine

General Hale had not come to surrender. At least, her expression did not suggest it.

"I thought I would get to meet your daughter, Hale." Gideon Malick walked forward to greet her against the gale whipped up by the helicopter. She was a remarkably clean-cut, orderly woman, dressed in a simple black women's suit beneath a heavy velvet coat. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head, and even her makeup lacked the refinement common among most women. Her nails were clipped short, she wore no jewelry, and every detail projected an air of efficiency. "I even prepared a gift for her!"

"I don't know where you heard that rumor, Gideon." General Hale's expression did not change. "I have never been married."

"Oh, then I must have remembered wrong. My apologies, I'm getting old." Gideon Malick called out with a smile, "Come along. The temperature in the Alps is far too low. I've already lit the fireplace, so you can warm yourself up. It's the perfect night for mulled wine. You must try the wine Stephanie picked out herself."

"I'd be delighted, Gideon." General Hale followed Gideon Malick down from the helipad.

This was an ancient castle built several centuries ago, once belonging to an impoverished noble. The previous head of the Malik family had bought it after World War I as a summer retreat. In summer, the air here was cool, and one could look out over lush green pastures dotted with sheep. But now it was winter. Cold mountain winds carried flecks of snow through corridors built from darkened stone bricks. Though General Hale was heavily dressed, her face was still frozen blue. The warmth from the braziers burning in the passageway was negligible, and the scent of burning wood,