The House of Cards

The motel room in Jersey was a far cry from the penthouse, but it was safe. For now. The twin beds were covered in cheap polyester, the carpet smelled of years of neglect, and the only light came from the neon sign flickering outside. *Vacancy.*

But it wasn't the room that felt empty. It was them.

Claire sat on the edge of her bed, watching David pace. He had been moving for hours, a caged animal unable to settle. Every time a car passed on the highway, he flinched. Every time the ice machine rumbled, his hand went to the gun he had taken from the barge.

"He's going to find us," David said, stopping by the window. He peered through the blinds, his silhouette stark against the flashing light. "He's going to burn this place down with us inside."

"We're going live in an hour," Claire said, her voice steady, though her hands were shaking. She was typing on her burner phone, coordinating with Elena. "Once we're on the air, he can't touch us. The whole world will be watching."

"The world watched him walk out of a police station," David snapped. He turned to her, his eyes wild. "The world watched him get shot and live. Do you really think a camera is going to stop him?"

"It's the only weapon we have left," Claire said.

"No," David said. "We have guns. We have leverage."

"We used our leverage," Claire said. "The files are out. And he's still free."

"Because we played by the rules!" David shouted. "We tried to expose him. We tried to shame him. But Arthur doesn't feel shame. He feels power."

He walked over to the bed where Matthew was sleeping. His brother looked peaceful, innocent, a blank slate in a war zone. David brushed a lock of hair from Matthew's forehead.

"He kept him in a box for thirty years," David whispered. "He kept my mother in a cage. He made me live a lie."

He looked at Claire.

"And you want to do an interview?"

"I want to end this," Claire said.

"So do I," David said. "But not with words."

He walked to the duffel bag in the corner. The bag from the barge. He unzipped it.

Inside were the assault rifles. The grenades. The tools of war Arthur had been selling to dictators.

David picked up a rifle. He checked the action with a practiced ease that made Claire's stomach turn. He wasn't the man she had married. He wasn't the gentle father who read bedtime stories.

He was Michael Kovac. And he was going to war.

"David," Claire said, standing up. "Put it down."

"No."

"If you go after him like this... you're doing exactly what he wants. You're becoming him."

"Maybe that's what it takes," David said. "Maybe you have to be a monster to kill a monster."

"And what about the girls?" Claire asked. "What about Lily and Rose? Do you want them to visit you in prison? Or a cemetery?"

"I want them to be safe," David said. "And as long as Arthur breathes, they never will be."

He slung the rifle over his shoulder. He grabbed a handgun and tucked it into his waistband.

"I'm going to the hospital," he said. "I'm going to finish what Mary started."

"You'll never get close to him," Claire said. "He'll have an army."

"Then I'll take an army," David said. He looked at Aris, who was sitting at the small table, monitoring the police scanners. "Are you coming?"

Aris looked at Claire. Then at David.

"I'm a lawyer," Aris said. "Not a soldier."

"Fine," David said. "I'll do it alone."

He walked to the door.

"David, please," Claire begged, grabbing his arm. "Don't leave me."

He looked down at her hand. Then up at her face. His eyes were cold, distant.

"I left you a long time ago, Claire," he said. "The moment I found out who I really was."

He pulled his arm away.

"Lock the door behind me."

He walked out into the night.

Claire stood there, staring at the closed door. The silence in the room was deafening.

She looked at the twin beds. Two islands in a sea of dirty carpet.

They were strangers again.

And she was alone.

"He's going to die," Sarah said from the corner. She was awake, clutching the doll. "Just like Thomas."

"No," Claire said. She wiped her eyes. She grabbed her coat.

"Aris," she said. "Get the camera."

"What?"

"We're not waiting for Elena," Claire said. "We're going live now."

"From a motel room?"

"From the car," Claire said. "We're going to follow him."

"Claire, that's suicide."

"No," Claire said, opening the door. "It's a distraction."

She looked at the empty space where David had stood.

"He wants a war? I'll give him a war. But I'm going to make sure the whole world sees the first shot."