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Chapter 650: Securing the Northern Dominion
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But to anyone with a shred of strategic vision, it might as well have.
In Wellington, a light drizzle clung to the windows of the Prime Minister’s residence, streaking the glass like tears on porcelain.
The skies were gray, not stormy, just heavy. Pressing. Watching.
Like the whole world was holding its breath.
Prime Minister Walter Nash poured a second glass of whisky.
The man seated across from him, Joseph Lyons, had accepted the first without pro ...
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