The secure video studio was sterile and cold, a small room in an undisclosed FBI facility, cameras positioned at precise angles, lighting calibrated for optimal transmission to the UN General Assembly. Emma sat in a chair that felt like an interrogation seat, an earpiece connecting her to the UN's translation system, a monitor showing the assembly hall where 193 countries waited to hear her speak.
Marcus and his security team had swept the room three times. Agent Reeves was stationed outside. Alexander sat in the corner, silent support, far enough from the camera to be invisible but close enough for Emma to draw strength from his presence.
Emma's hands shook as she adjusted the microphone. She'd taken her anti-anxiety medication an hour ago, timed precisely so it would kick in during the presentation but not make her drowsy. She'd done breathing exercises with Dr. Chen this morning. She'd rehearsed this speech dozens of times.
