01-15-2024, 01:07 AM
Tulen Levensky was livid. He didn’t use that word very often. It reminded him of lilies, which reminded him of tulips, which reminded him of how which he was bullied for having a feminine name as a child.
But in this situation, there wasn’t a better word. He was good and viciously livid. Incompetence. He was surrounded by incompetence. An intelligence agency incapable of the simplest tasks; a foreign government with some kind of bitchy moral chip on their shoulder; and an indignant former soldier who just did not want to talk. Not to mention the doctors and the journalists and the damn citizens chanting for some kind of bullshit freedom.
None of these people understood freedom. None of these people understood anything. How can a country known for its education lead such a daft fucking population? How can a people so completely useless be such a ridiculous thorn in his ass?
“Excuse me… sir.”
A small voice from the doorway, his assistant Neil Sanderson.
“What?” he growled
“Just um- the Zongongians are really pushing me for a response.”
“Tell them to shove off. How many times do I have to say this?”
“I’m sorry sir, I’m afraid they’re threatening to come in person.”
“Sanderson. Tell. Them. To. Shove. Off. Just… which word of this are you missing?”
“…yes sir.”
•••
Neil Sanderson walked to his desk. He pulled his phone off the receiver and dialed a number that had been given to him by a fellow assistant. Someone he respected. Someone who must’ve been working under a much kinder leader. A better leader. Maybe even a good man.
“Hello?” came the voice on the other line
“Yes, this is Neil Sanderson, assistant to President Levensky of Thousand Branches. I’ve been given the all-clear to set up a meeting with Zongongian authorities. Would you be able to meet?”
•••
Lily was good and thoroughly beat to hell. It was almost funny. Almost. Maybe if it didn’t hurt like the dickens. But poetic irony could be so very sweet. The people who had taught her how to steel herself now found themselves attempting to break that very will.
They were right though. It was far, far more painful in a real situation.
Then again, Lily had never let pain stop her before. Or anything else for that matter. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to give up Holgersen — not when so much was on the line. Given the urgency with which this “interrogation” was proceeding, she guessed he was getting close too. Or the Zongongians were closing in. Either way, they needed something from her, and they needed it fast.
And it would be a cold day in the devil’s cage before she gave them a lick of his destination.
•••
Levensky had just been drafting a letter when he received the call. Zongongians confirming an appointment. One he really couldn’t say no to. He made a mental note to fire Sanderson. Of course, Sanderson was already long gone, but he didn’t know that yet. Nor did he care. It was more to have something to be angry at. Other than everything, of course. But now he had to argue this case in front of judge, jury, and executioner.
How the hell was he supposed to cover all this up? There were damn army camps on the border. If the media had a sniff of that, there’d be bloodhounds sniffing in every corner of every filing cabinet from here to Lauchenoiria. He wasn’t. As he saw it, there were four options:
Own up to it all and resign. This would likely end in prison, torture, and eventually death by the hands of some infection from a toilet water covered toothbrush shiv.
Attempt to create a guise. With active army camps and extraordinary chaos, that would likely involve either a declaration of war or something beyond any excuse he had ever created before. This would likely end in public ridicule or a whole lot of foreign nations on his ass. And not in a good way.
Declare war on Zongongia. He didn’t fancy being bombed.
Run.
One of those was looking increasingly appealing. If only they could find one errant fucking journalist. Good god what a fucking joke.
But in this situation, there wasn’t a better word. He was good and viciously livid. Incompetence. He was surrounded by incompetence. An intelligence agency incapable of the simplest tasks; a foreign government with some kind of bitchy moral chip on their shoulder; and an indignant former soldier who just did not want to talk. Not to mention the doctors and the journalists and the damn citizens chanting for some kind of bullshit freedom.
None of these people understood freedom. None of these people understood anything. How can a country known for its education lead such a daft fucking population? How can a people so completely useless be such a ridiculous thorn in his ass?
“Excuse me… sir.”
A small voice from the doorway, his assistant Neil Sanderson.
“What?” he growled
“Just um- the Zongongians are really pushing me for a response.”
“Tell them to shove off. How many times do I have to say this?”
“I’m sorry sir, I’m afraid they’re threatening to come in person.”
“Sanderson. Tell. Them. To. Shove. Off. Just… which word of this are you missing?”
“…yes sir.”
•••
Neil Sanderson walked to his desk. He pulled his phone off the receiver and dialed a number that had been given to him by a fellow assistant. Someone he respected. Someone who must’ve been working under a much kinder leader. A better leader. Maybe even a good man.
“Hello?” came the voice on the other line
“Yes, this is Neil Sanderson, assistant to President Levensky of Thousand Branches. I’ve been given the all-clear to set up a meeting with Zongongian authorities. Would you be able to meet?”
•••
Lily was good and thoroughly beat to hell. It was almost funny. Almost. Maybe if it didn’t hurt like the dickens. But poetic irony could be so very sweet. The people who had taught her how to steel herself now found themselves attempting to break that very will.
They were right though. It was far, far more painful in a real situation.
Then again, Lily had never let pain stop her before. Or anything else for that matter. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to give up Holgersen — not when so much was on the line. Given the urgency with which this “interrogation” was proceeding, she guessed he was getting close too. Or the Zongongians were closing in. Either way, they needed something from her, and they needed it fast.
And it would be a cold day in the devil’s cage before she gave them a lick of his destination.
•••
Levensky had just been drafting a letter when he received the call. Zongongians confirming an appointment. One he really couldn’t say no to. He made a mental note to fire Sanderson. Of course, Sanderson was already long gone, but he didn’t know that yet. Nor did he care. It was more to have something to be angry at. Other than everything, of course. But now he had to argue this case in front of judge, jury, and executioner.
How the hell was he supposed to cover all this up? There were damn army camps on the border. If the media had a sniff of that, there’d be bloodhounds sniffing in every corner of every filing cabinet from here to Lauchenoiria. He wasn’t. As he saw it, there were four options:
Own up to it all and resign. This would likely end in prison, torture, and eventually death by the hands of some infection from a toilet water covered toothbrush shiv.
Attempt to create a guise. With active army camps and extraordinary chaos, that would likely involve either a declaration of war or something beyond any excuse he had ever created before. This would likely end in public ridicule or a whole lot of foreign nations on his ass. And not in a good way.
Declare war on Zongongia. He didn’t fancy being bombed.
Run.
One of those was looking increasingly appealing. If only they could find one errant fucking journalist. Good god what a fucking joke.