He spoke into the phone.
"Alright, Stefanie, I've arrived. Tomorrow I'll have someone come over and handle the transfer paperwork for you two. Pack up today; first thing tomorrow I'll send a private jet to pick you up."
"Mm-hmm, okay, big brother. Go get some rest."
Steve hung up.
Stefanie lowered her voice, shock and disbelief flooding every word.
"Mom, Dad, did you hear that? Someone just called Brother... Director?"
"Director?"
They knew their son was working for the country, but they never imagined it had reached this level.
A bureau Director—and from the conversation their son had answered as though it were perfectly natural.
There was no doubt it referred to him.
Stephen's hand holding the phone trembled slightly.
His son was only eighteen.
How had he already become a Director?
Could it be that my swimmers are THAT good?
Excitement made his whole body shiver.
"Alright, alright, enough wild guesses."
Nicole was the first to come back to her senses; she forced down the roaring waves in her heart and told her husband and daughter,
"Since Steve doesn't want us to worry, let's not ask so many questions. Hurry—pack up. Tomorrow we leave for the capital."
Night was as dark as ink; the villa lay in quiet serenity.
After finishing the call with his family, Steve's last trace of worry melted away.
He stepped into the villa and instructed Fred Jones behind him,
"Fred, please arrange a reliable team to Washington to pick up my parents and sister. Handle my sister's transfer paperwork as well."
"Yes, Director."
Fred Jones nodded respectfully.
"Rest assured, I'll arrange the transport and security tonight; I guarantee your Dad, Mom, and the young lady will be brought to the capital safely and comfortably."
Steve gave a soft grunt, said nothing more, and walked straight to his room.
Lying on the soft, comfortable bed, he idly opened his phone and skimmed the latest news.
As expected, the front-page headlines of every major outlet were dominated by the same story.
[Shock! After Five Years, the country's thermal power plants restart Overnight!]
[Unprecedented! National Energy Administration Issues Emergency Hiring Order; Demand in power Sector Explodes, Tens of Thousands of Jobs Await!]
[Return-to-Work Wave! Laid-Off Veterans Reclaim Posts, Lighting Up a Million Homes]
Headline after headline packed with impact set the entire internet ablaze.
[What on earth is America up to?]
[Are they crazy? The whole world's going green, and we're throwing it in reverse?]
[You know nothing! Didn't you see? This restart uses a new clean fuel—almost zero pollution.]
The comment sections exploded, and the hashtag "US Restarts thermal power" rocketed to the top of every hot-search list, followed by a glaring red "BOOM."
Reading the stories, Steve's mouth curved into a faint smile.
He knew America had begun to make its move.
Electricity was only the first step.
"Wonder how the gold side is progressing..."
At that same moment, in a heavily guarded underground office of the Federal Reserve, the lights blazed.
Tony Piazo, the strategist dubbed the Financial Butcher, was issuing order after order to dozens of elite traders.
"Team One, through US Capital you registered in the Bahamas, leak to Goldman and Morgan that one of our major clients, due to internal strategic adjustments, needs to quietly offload a small batch of physical gold—test their appetite."
"Team Two, activate your Edelweiss Trust in Switzerland, contact those Middle-Eastern oil tycoons, and ask if they're interested in privately absorbing a batch of squeaky-clean gold."
"Team Three..."
Each order flowed through the most secure encrypted channels to every corner of the global financial markets.
Hundreds of seemingly unrelated offshore companies and covert accounts began to operate like a silently unfurling net.
The whispers drifted like a breeze, gradually circulating through Wall Street and the exchanges of the City of London.
[Did you hear? The US seems to be quietly cashing out gold.]
[Large volume?]
[Not huge—only a few tons each time—but the frequency is steady. Rumor says some big plan needs capital recycled.]
Combined with the news of USA restarting thermal power, the rumor immediately sparked a fresh storm of public opinion online.
The long-dormant paid trolls surged out at the scent.
[I told you so—the US is finished. Restarting those museum-ready thermal plants means the economy can't hold. Now they're even selling off their emergency gold; total collapse incoming.]
[Tsk, firing up coal plants and dumping gold—how big a hole must they face? The bubble finally burst.]
[Pack it up, pack it in. The mighty must fall—ancient wisdom never fails (lol).]
[So what if they sell gold? National strategic adjustment—who are you traitors to judge?]
[Why waste words on these creatures? The stronger the US grows, the worse they feel. Watching them caper only proves we're on the right track.]
Across the internet, winds howled and clouds surged, treacherous and ever shifting.
No one could fathom why steady, cautious America had suddenly played two seemingly self-contradictory, even self-sabotaging cards—restarting thermal power and selling gold
...
Russia, Kremlin, War Room.
Around the oval table sat a dozen of the highest-level decision-makers in Russia.
The atmosphere was exceptionally grim.
"Gentlemen."
The silver-haired man at the head rubbed his throbbing temples and spoke hoarsely,
"Can anyone tell me what on earth the americans are up to?"
"My God, they've restarted those thermal plants that ought to be in museums."
"Now the FSB reports they're quietly selling gold worldwide."
A national-security advisor with a goatee adjusted his glasses and said,
"Mr. President, this is highly unusual."
"The americans do nothing without strong purpose. They cannot—by which I mean they absolutely will not—make such, uh, contradictory moves without reason."
"Could their economy have developed a massive, hidden problem?"
A military general speculated.
"For instance, have their high-tech industries collapsed under our(BRICS) collective resource embargo, forcing them to raise vast sums to plug the hole?"