Chapter 13 - The President

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The Tablet States

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The Tablet states again.

“What the heck” he says out loud and shakes it.

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Is all that is present on the screen, the buttons and touch ability do not respond.

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[System Hacked. Do Not Follow]

His headgear responds.

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The Tablet states again. Holding it in his hands he looks at, waiting and thinking.

“Zulu” Delia speaks through the door before opening it and entering, not waiting for a response.

Placing the tablet down on his desk, “What now.” He asks, swirling on his chair to find that she is not alone.

President: Vadimir

Date of Birth: 05/12/XXXX

Started office on: 28/05/XXXX

Aeternus

“Zulu” A tall and skinny man, unmarked with anything except for deep wrinkles strolls into the room as if it was below him. “Why have you not come to greet me?” he asks, agitatedly.

[Time spent reading 13 days]

“Mr President” Standing up to find that he himself is taller, he does a small bow “I have been…preoccupied”

“Tsk” the man lets out under his breath “I have heard that your last mission was labelled Shadow Mist. We’ve had multiple things labelled that. All of them successful.” Turning to look at all that is in the room. “Which is the one you refer to?”

Eyeing the president as he looks at all that is in the room, Zulu finds that the man is disgusted at something. “There is only one” He responds, not wanting to reveal what he does not have to.

“And which one is that?” Reverting his eyes back to Zulu.

[The 4th one]

“The forth one” he lies, picking one that occurred before the incident and president’s birth.

“I see.” Bringing out a tablet and looking through it. “Why do I not see your name on it then?”

“A Joint operation will never have my name present.” He answers knowing that the president will not be able to prove or disprove his lie.

Still holding the tablet “I do not believe you” he states bluntly.

“It is the truth” Zulu shrugs “If you don’t believe then don’t”

Putting the tablet away “You are the councils new body guard.” He states as if it was already decided.

“President!” Delia protests “You can’t. We know nothing of”

“Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do” the president slaps her, cutting her off and startling her.

Eyeing them for a second “She is right.” Zulu says, calmly sitting back down. “You know nothing of me” He looks back at his tablet that was now showing a blueprint with a blinking red dot at its centre. “Why would you want me as your body guard?”

“Your presence will deter assassins.”

“Deter them and allow the council to keep their position.” He says studying the blueprint in detail.

“We are a democracy” the president states stoically “Our position is decided by those who vote.”

Raising an eye, Zulu meets the presidents for a second before turning back to his tablet, not replying. The votes were rigged, not many people knew, but they both did.

“We do what is best for the people.” The president speaks out. “I do not need to justified myself!”

“Majority of your citizens are happy, that is the only reason why there is no revolt.”

“You are to be the council’s new body guard” he states again.

“And why must I be?”

The president walks forward and snatches the tablet out of Zulu’s hands, forcing Zulu to look at him “You are part of the military, and thus subject to us. You have already been assigned as such.”

“Technically I am not part of the military” Smiling, “Thus I am not subjected to your military laws.” Looking at the tablet in the president’s hand for a spilt second “There are over a dozen different powerful nations.” grabbing the tablet back “what is in it for me?”

“You are subjected to our military laws.” The president corrects. “Technically you are a prisoner.”

“Technically I have immunity.” Zulu says “You may not, but it seems the military still follow the old law.”

“tsk” he mutters under his breath again “It stops us from turning on each other, Either way, You are still my bodyguard.”

“Your body guard? I thought I was meant to be the council’s”

“You will be mine and in sense the councils”

Turning away and looking back out the window “You and I are both not a stupid men Mr President. I am currently something like a freelance mercenary. You cannot strong arm me. What do you have to offer me?”

[Snipers x 3]

“I can give you your life”

“HA!” Zulu laughs “My Life? Do you honestly think I care too much about my own life? My purpose has already been fulfilled. I am just a wanderer now” Still looking out the window “And do you honestly believe that your life is currently in your own hands and not mine? You would have seen the recording of me in the arena by now.” Looking back at the blueprint on the screen he concludes that the tower in the far distance was its design. “Again Mr President, what do you have to offer me?”

“You would not dare harm me” The president states “I am in control”

Taking out his pistol, but holding it by the barrel instead of the grip as a sign of having no intention of using it. “Did you know, the average distance for a pistol is about 30 metres? Your snipers are a good 300 metres away. 10 times the recommended distance for a pistol.”

“They are well out of your range” the President smiles thinking he has succeeded in strong arming Zulu.

“Did you know the average amount of time a bullet requires to travel 100 metres is 0.2 seconds?” Still holding the pistol by the barrel “Do you think I can make that shot? Do you think I can do it three times in less than 0.6 of a second?”

“It is impossible. Even you have limits.”

“No, it is not impossible, just highly improbable.” Placing the pistol on the table “If I have need of it, I may try and get 2 of them out of my clip of 6, and it would take 0.6 of a second to do. Though I would prefer to have more times for my shots”

“So you submit yourself to me? You agree to carry out the charges as my bodyguard and swear it under a blood oath.”

“What about a knife though? Is there a throwing limit for a knife?” he takes it out holding it by the blade “Do you think I could throw it the distance and hit one of them?”

“Do you submit yourself to me!” the President asks, agitated at being barraged with rhetorical questions.

“Again, it is not impossible, just highly improbably.” Placing the blade on the table. “It takes about 10 seconds for it to travel 300 metres. 1 second for 30 metres, I do have my limits” he smiles. “Do you think I’ll hit?”

“It is Impossible!” The president shouts, now realising that Zulu had no intent on backing down.

“Tell me Mr President. What is the one thing Zulu’s are known for?”

“…Succeeding their missions, no matter the cost.” The president says emotionlessly

Nodding. “That is true, but you are skirting around it.”

“…For never failing, no matter how difficult”

Nodding again “True as well. But you know the true answer. I want the true answer.”

Gritting his teeth “For doing the impossible” the President reluctantly says.

“Yes. We are known,” pausing then correcting himself “I am known for doing the impossible. So tell me Mr President. What can you offer me?”

“You will still die!” the President puts up a last struggle.

“As I said, I do not care.” Smiling “If I were to die, you and many other people would too.” Turning back to actually look at the president “I will tell you this. Your snipers will miss…So what do you have to offer me? Mr President”

Grinding his teeth “What is it that you want.”

“No Mr President. You will give me an offer and I will accept or decline at my own will. You want me. What will you offer me?”

Not use to not being in control he retreats “Come to the tower tomorrow. There the council and I will decide how to hire you.”

“The tower I see outside the window?”

“She will lead you” he answers leaving the room, feeling humiliated.

“Sir” Delia says in response, acknowledging the instructions.

“Do not interrupt me again” He slaps her out of annoyance.

With only Delia and Zulu in the room, Zulu goes back and takes his seat whilst Delia stays standing in the doorway, one hand on her cheek.

“Father?” Zulu asks her.

“…Yes.” She replies hand still on her red cheek

“Is the whole council like that?” Zulu asks her.

“The people voted them, they run the nation.” Not answering the question.

“The election is rigged.”

“It is not!” she protests “Voting is done publically. Everyone sees who votes for who!”

“There is more than one way to rig an election Delia.”

“I will not believe your lies.” She spits out.

Looking at her, he sees that he cannot force this opinion, but also finds that there is some doubt in her eyes, she does not truly believe what she says. “I need food” he tells her and sees her leave without replying.

Alone in the room, door shut and snipers gone. He takes a long and deep breath. He never liked negotiating, it was never his best skill. Zulu 1 was the one that normally handed it. Zulu 1 had a way with words, he could weave tiny lies in every sentence and bring anybody to his terms, both gently and forcibly. It was a skill he himself was envious of. All he could do was push logic and facts forward, hoping that they see it true. More often than not, he avoided talking to those in power, it tended to bring trouble.

Putting his knife and pistol back on his belt, he closes his eyes. His purpose in life no longer existed, his mission, his goal, gone. He was now a mercenary, something good and bad. He no longer had to perform miracles. The weight of his side no longer rested upon his shoulders. Instead he has no side, he has no obligations to fill. He was free.

Opening his eyes he takes a look outside the window and stares at the tower in the far distance. “I miss you guys” he mutters to himself before looking back down at the tablet to decide a new goal.

A simple one and a selfish one. Explore the new world and learn all there is to know. A lot can and did happen in 700 years. He has spent 13 days reading, but it is impossible to learn 700 years in just 13 days, there are still many things he did not know, things that he wants to know.

Like for instance, apparently animals the size of dinosaurs roamed the surface now, due to some experiment that went wrong sometime during the end of the 3rd millennium; they are apparently deadly and smarter than one would expect.

What he did not want was to get bogged down in another war, he did not want to be in charge of people that he would send to their deaths, he has had enough of it. If he had to though, he would do it.

But first, he had a few things he needed to do here. Looking at the blinking red dot he wipes his face as Delia walks back into the room with a tray of food.

“Your food” she says placing it down.

Grabbing her arm “Why do you despise me so” he asks, face hiding all sense of emotion he felt.

Looking at him she pulls her arm back, not answering and leaving as quickly as she came.

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A/N

I was trying to draw what it looked out side his window. but i've since given up. I can't draw >.>

Hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Thanks for reading ^.^