The surviving assassins never made it anywhere near a normal prison.
The moment they were captured, Foundation containment teams arrived on-site. The prisoners were hooded, restrained, sedated, and transported to a nearby Foundation facility under maximum security. Several members of the Coruscant Guard personally oversaw the transfer while Commander Fox remained behind with Lincoln.
The Foundation had many ways of obtaining information.
Most people broke after a few hours.
Professionals lasted a few days.
Nobody lasted forever.
Especially not when the Foundation became involved.
Meanwhile, Lincoln had more immediate concerns.
His political career.
As the convoy resumed its journey through New York, Lincoln calmly sat inside the replacement vehicle while reviewing reports on a datapad. The magical barrier talisman around his neck had already recharged.
Commander Fox sat opposite him.
"The media has already picked up reports of the attack."
Lincoln nodded.
"Good."
Fox raised an eyebrow.
"Good?"
"Of course."
Lincoln smiled slightly.
"A politician surviving an assassination attempt is worth several points in the polls."
Fox stared at him for several seconds.
Sometimes he genuinely forgot how politicians thought.
Lincoln wasn't worried.
The attackers had failed.
His security detail had performed flawlessly.
Nobody important had died.
Which meant the situation could be turned into a public relations victory.
Within an hour, Foundation-controlled media assets, political allies, and Lincoln's personal public relations team were already preparing statements.
The official story was simple.
Unknown extremists had attacked the senator's convoy.
His highly trained security personnel had successfully protected him.
Several brave bodyguards had been injured while defending him.
Law enforcement was investigating.
Simple.
Believable.
Effective.
The Foundation itself would never be mentioned.
Neither would the Coruscant Guard.
Nor the fact that Lincoln had personally decapitated multiple attackers with a legendary Japanese sword.
The public would never know.
As far as the world was concerned, Lincoln was simply an influential American politician who had narrowly survived an assassination attempt.
A few hours later, Lincoln appeared before cameras.
The event had been organized remarkably quickly.
Politicians were experts at that sort of thing.
Standing before a collection of reporters, Lincoln maintained a calm and dignified expression.
"First, I would like to thank the brave men and women responsible for my protection today."
The cameras immediately focused on the statement.
"My security personnel acted with exceptional courage and professionalism. Without their actions, I might not be standing here."
A perfect answer.
It made him look humble.
It praised his guards.
And it subtly reminded everyone that someone had tried to kill him.
Reporters immediately began asking questions.
"Senator Lincoln, do you know who was responsible?"
"Not at this time."
"Will this affect your political campaign?"
Lincoln smiled.
"I certainly hope not. If anything, I believe it demonstrates that fear and violence cannot influence democracy."
Several reporters immediately wrote that quote down.
Excellent.
His public relations team would love that one.
The press conference continued for nearly thirty minutes before Lincoln finally departed.
By the end of the evening, news stations across America were discussing the assassination attempt.
Public sympathy rose.
Polling numbers increased.
Political opponents looked insensitive if they criticized him.
The entire incident had somehow improved his public image.
Lincoln considered that ironic.
Back at Site-19, Julius and I watched the news coverage from a conference room.
The Herta puppet took a sip of tea.
"He turned an assassination attempt into free advertising."
Julius looked mildly impressed.
"That is admittedly quite efficient."
The holographic screen displayed Lincoln shaking hands with reporters.
His approval ratings were already rising.
Neither of us were surprised.
Lincoln was many things.
Manipulative.
Ambitious.
Dangerous.
But above all else...
He was an excellent politician.
Far beneath the public celebration, however, another operation was already underway.
Deep inside a secure Foundation facility, the captured assassins were finally waking up.
Steel doors locked shut behind them.
Interrogation specialists prepared their equipment.
Psychologists reviewed profiles.
Memetic experts stood by.
And somewhere in the darkness of the Foundation, someone was about to discover who had been foolish enough to declare war on an O5 Overseer