[Val Verde]

[January 30th, 2020]

—

The announcement of my ascension was celebrated with a week of festivities. As was tradition for any who gained the right to lead the people.

Since the previous Supreme Leader died, his powers would now pass onto me. Thus I would lead them towards a better tomorrow.

Or so I had hoped.

In the short two months into my new station and all I had was paperwork. Endless amounts of papers to read, sign, and double check.

I stared at the current mound paperwork before me.

The dead wood currently divided by urgency. Then further split into several stacks. Each containing relevant information.

Information about how screwed up everything was.

I sighed as I leaned back on the ornate chair. A refined, handcrafted ebony wood chair. From what I understood from the memoirs of the Supreme Leader, this was one expensive seat.

At $10,000 per kilo, the ebony wood was rare and somehow, I had not only a chair, but a matching desk.

I slumped and pondered if I could sell everything. Money would solve many of the issues at hand.

Money we did not have.

I could probably fetch a million, right?

The crackling of the fireplace caught my attention and I stared at the open flames.

Val Verde was in trouble, and there was little I could do about it.

The previous agreements made were alright. Secret trade agreements with various Caribbean countries like Cuba, or Dominican Republic. We had some with Puerto Rico, and thus the US via back channels.

These agreements were providing a healthy sum of cash. Not a lot compared to lucrative countries. Then again, the fact that Val Verde was an isolated island made things harder.

The fact that two major evil organization. Each independent of each other, had both taken hold of the island country. This had hurt Val Verde’s international image.

Which meant that the UN had various trade sanctions stamped onto the country. To prevent future expansion of Hydra held territory...

The problem was that Val Verde was now free of such influences, but the UN didn't believe it.

So this lead to undervalued exports.

Not a problem for a island able to grow its own food. The extra money was a bonus to the previous leaders of the country.

This small issue became a big problem when Bane acted. The man had sabotaged most of the big farms, leaving only outlying communities able to grow food.

Factor in the broken economy, in which bartering seemed to make up roughly half of the rural trade. With the reeling loss of so many young adults in the 2009 disaster…

I made my way over to the fire. The warmth it provided comforted me.

I wanted to break down and cry.

Doubly so since the current set of paperwork in front of me was a sea of legal documents. Each a complex form to request humanitarian aid.

I was currently working on a form for food aid. The Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs, OCHA.

Then there was the Central Emergency Response Fund, or CERF.

United Nations Development Programme, UNDP.

United Nations Refugee Agency, UNHCR.

United Nations Children’s Fund, UNICEF.

World Food Programme, WFP.

Stark International.

Justice League.

Symkaria, home of Silver Sable.

Latveria, home of Doctor Doom.

Fantastic Four.

X-Men.

Atlantis, home of Aquaman.

New Atlantis, home of Namor.

Utopia, home of the mutant nation.

Themyscira, home of Wonder Woman.

On and on I wrote.

The replies were less then sterling.

A few letters of regret from Doctor Doom, and Silver Sable. They were currently not in a position to help.

Atlantis with the generic we hear you, but we will see what can can do.

Yet, I continued.

The UN seemed to be my best bet. Though the only replies I received were generic papers. They all said we received the request, but it was less critical then other issues at the moment.

I shook myself awake, and placed another piece of wood into the dimming flames.

Then I made my way back to my desk, and picked up the pen.

As the Supreme Leader, I had responsibilities that waited for no single man.

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Chapter 08: Formal Requests