S4, E5 | Puppet on a String

Wearing a grin capable of making a lion pull away in fear, Julia stands with her hands by each side just a few, short metres away. Amplified by the torrential downpour that crashes all around the building, the unspoken tension cuts with ease as the women stand across from each other, both sensing exactly what each other’s motivations are. Slowly lowering her hand from the door’s bar, Alex turns the rest of her body toward the onlooking nurse, remaining entirely silent as she does.

“What’ve you got there?” Julia inquires, resetting her sights upon the key that sits in the door’s lock, genuine intrigue taken in its sighting. With a gentle pull, the Morris matriarch removes the metal piece from the mechanism it had sat within and presses it hard against the skin of her palm, its jagged teeth leaving marks in her flesh. “What’s behind the door?” Alex replies, immediately jumping to the question that sits on her mind, an inquiry that prompts the doctor to shake her head.

“You don’t want me to answer that” Julia responds, her head beginning to lean toward one shoulder as her hand stretches outward, an open palm displayed to the mother of two, “give me the key.” Her rigid body only growing colder with the request, Alex thinks to herself quietly for a moment as water droplets continue to run down her hair and inevitably collide with the puddle below.

Passing a glance toward her pressed-shut hand, Alex soon returns her gaze to the woman ahead, lips parting well before she actually answers the request. “What’s behind the door?” she wonders for a second time, once more receiving a hesitant reply from the Avallone sibling. “Let’s not do this” Julia replies, letting her open palm lower to her side for just the moment, allowing her to step forward with a less-imposing figure, “just give me the key and leave. We won’t talk about this again.”

Less threatened now than she is determined, Alex gently shakes her head as she matches the doctor’s approach, taking one step backward to meet each step forward the woman takes. “What’s behind the door, Julia?” the woman asks for a third and final time, not allowing the question to go without an answer, one that prompts the smile and semi-inviting demeanour the scrub-adorning woman wears to fall, pushed aside in favour of an exhaustion with the situation at hand.

Beginning to stare at the visitor with a scowl, Julia’s head straightens out as she looks to the woman’s hand, a slow look of acceptance coming across the doctor’s face. “Fine” she replies, looking the mother in the eyes and letting out a sigh, “let me show you.” On edge already, Alex watches the woman’s hand slowly lowering to her side and dip into her pocket, jingling a small set of keys before removing them to present, the key picked from all others matching the one she grasps.

Opening her free hand to present to the woman across from her, Julia approaches carefully, reaching the assortment of keys toward the double doors as Alex steps to the side. Keeping true to her word, the doctor unlocks the door and returns the chain to her side. Pulling back, the woman leaves the doors for the mother to interact with, not stepping between the woman and her eagerness to have curiosities put aside.

“I tried to stop you” Julia whispers, making room for the mother to rest her hand on the crashbars whilst waiting for her entry into the yet-unknown. Hesitating, Alex waits for a moment as she pushes the crash bar in slowly, both building up the courage to step inside whilst also trying to prepare herself for whatever situation may play out.

With the force of a shoulder tackle, Alex’s time to weigh options depletes immediately, her body slamming into the door and crashing into the uncertain room as the doctor’s body weight crashes into her unexpectedly. Falling to the ground, the mother’s eyes immediately take to a set of empty cages off to the room’s side, barely able to make them out for what they are whilst only able to see them through the light of the moon that shines through an overhead window.

Left with no time to think, Alex watches Julia approach with a syringe in hand, the expression of a woman enraged to the point of murder sported by the medical specialist. Her breath stolen beneath the woman’s weight, Alex takes her opportunity to swing her leg in the doctor’s direction, watching the woman release a hold of the plastic needle as she tumbles to the floor, crashing onto her side with a loud thud.

Hearing her groans, Alex makes the most of her opening, climbing to her feet as best she can before hurrying through the same doors she was thrust to, the doctor not too far behind. No longer having words to share with each other, the women’s interaction boils down to a chase, one side of the coin desperately trying to flee the life-threatening scenario whilst the other attempts to fulfil her part in it.

Back into the mostly-empty lobby, Alex turns the first corner and shakes off Julia’s hand, which grabs her arm for a brief second before failing to latch on. With the distance closing, the mother chooses to turn around and fight, looking to keep the clock from running out by giving herself a chance at adding some extra time.

With the push of her hand, Alex shoves the doctor into the nearest wall and kicks her away, creating space between them that is nothing short of much-needed. With eyes on the front doors, the mother’s intended departure carries her toward the incredible rainstorm just beyond the hospital’s lobby, the headlights on her car still aimed toward the building.

With a second wind, Julia matches the mother’s stride and soon exceeds it, gaining ground on the woman and lunging forward just as they near the entrance, her momentum too great for either to control. Wrapping her arms around Alex’s shoulders, Julia takes both women off their feet, their speed carrying them through the air as they fall forward, breaking the lobby’s entrance and shattering the glass that separated it from a rainy parking lot.

Rolling on the pavement, both women come to a harsh stop at the hospital’s emergency entrance, their skin scraped and bodies battered by the force of their respective collisions. Wincing in pain, Alex grasps at her shoulder and groans, turning her body in an attempt to climb up once more, only to feel Julia’s weight take her to the ground yet again.

The anguish of a torn shoulder labrum quickly fading, Alex’s pain is stolen just as her consciousness is, the sudden, stinging impact of a needle stabbing her in the neck forcing her to grow weary and dizzy. Still mustering enough strength to operate on, the mother tosses Julia aside and leaps off the ground, making it back to her feet before immediately feeling the injection’s effects take hold of her, distorting her vision as easily as it unsteadies her balance.

Able to barely make out the direction to her car, Alex sets her sights on the only source of hope she can look to, soon finding even the headlights too dim to set her sights on. Putting one, final nail in the coffin that is their scuffle, Julia throws her shoulder into the medicated woman’s back yet again, this time shoving her into the hood of her own car and to the ground without a second wind to depend on.

Leaving a dent in the black sedan’s front cover, Alex slides off her vehicle and onto the ground, falling limp as the drugs take her into a state of unconsciousness, unable to fight off the doctor’s will any further. Gasping for air as she leans against the vehicle, Julia lets the syringe fall from her hand, its bouncing rattle rolling along the ground and coming to a stop near the mother’s body.

Having made her mess and being left with the responsibility of cleaning it up, Julia takes a moment to collect her thoughts and figure out where she goes from here. In due time, the woman drags Alex’s body and throws her into the trunk of her own car, taking her brother’s key from the woman’s hand before seating herself behind the wheel, driving off for the republic’s border as the night grows old, her parade rained on by a storm the nation barely ever gets to see.

= Dire is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards =

“How’re you feeling?” Chevy asks, his wrist sitting atop his truck’s steering wheel as his sights set on the woman beside him, her eyes closed and the seat leant back. “Fine. I think the nausea’s calming down” Kayla replies, slightly losing her train of thought as the sounds of droplets crashing against the vehicle bring about a peace of mind she rarely gets to experience.

“That’s good” the driver replies, taking his free hand and resting it on the back of the one his wife lets sit in her lap, their patience spent waiting for the arrival that soon presents itself. Stepping into the alleyway, Clark shields his eyes from the headlights that plaster the rear entry to the peacekeeper’s bar in an ocean of illumination, listening to the driver step down from his vehicle to meet him.

“Is everything alright?” Chevy inquires, shutting his door and sinking his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt as his hoodie is soon fully drenched in rainwater. “Yeah, the bar’s fine. The people are alright too” Clark replies, speaking with the slightest smell of booze in his breath, something the man across from him keeps from pointing out.

“In that case- what did they want?” Chevy responds, his massive shadow cast along the back of the bar, an imposing figure that at least lets the slightly-intoxicated peacekeeper spokesman lower his vision-shielding arm. “Us” Clark answers, a reply that the father-to-be had not anticipated hearing, forcing him to take a verbal double-take.

“Us?” the larger, long-haired, thick-bearded man inquires, finally met with his answer. “They told us they’d supply the food we were getting cut off from and then some if we volunteered to work at the hospital” Clark reiterates, the extending of a pack of darts politely refused by the visiting man, “they were behind on recruits, so they needed to look for people other than the Angelinos. At least- that’s what they said.”

“So they just came in to negotiate? Give you some food and get you to work at the hospital in the first place?” Chevy asks, watching the flame shoot from Clark’s lighter as he lights the cigarette he holds between his lips, “so, cutting your rations was just a ploy to get you to volunteer for the hospital?”

Letting a puff of air leave through his lips, Clark shrugs his shoulders with little answer to offer other than the one he’s been presented with. “If there’s an ulterior motive, it ain’t very easy to figure out” the drunkard replies, tucking a single hand in his pocket as he stares off into the distance, “all I know is that we start work tomorrow.”

Momentarily confused, Chevy looks Clark in the eyes as his passenger door swings open, his immediate interest taken toward the man’s declaration. “What do you mean you start tomorrow? You took the deal?” the man queries, watching the group leader’s eyes widen in an instant. “Of course we took the deal” the smoker replies as Kayla steps to the side of her husband, slowly becoming privy to what had been shared without her as time passes.

“Chevy, those people have families to feed. You don’t think they could pass up something like that, do you?” Clark replies, not initially getting a response as the man looks off to the side, trying to clear his thoughts. “I didn’t expect them to refuse it, but it’s hard to see how little they think of Jaime and assume they’d just be fine with going to work for her- regardless of the return” Chevy explains, a gesture the man across from him can’t fully disagree with.

“Listen, we don’t like Jaime. There’s not much more to it than that” Clark replies, again taking another drag off the dart he shields from the elements beneath his chin, “but you’ve got to put food on the table somehow. What other option would there be if not this one?” Bowing his head, the question sits in Chevy’s mind for a moment, only put aside when he nods toward the smoker’s direction and turns back for his vehicle.

“What’s happening?” Kayla asks, joining her husband in returning to her seat and slamming the door shut. “Jaime offered them their food rations back if they volunteered for the hospital” Chevy answers, summing the brief conversation up as simply as he can. With her eyes squinting, his wife’s mind immediately presents curiosity, the declaration not appearing to her as cut-and-dry the way it seemingly does to Clark.

“Didn’t they have an uptick in volunteers not too long ago?” Kayla asks, a recollection her husband knows to be true, “what the hell do they need more for? Let alone the peacekeepers?” Resting his elbows against his sides, Chevy shakes his head at a loss for answers, knowing what’s been shared with him doesn’t line up on face-value alone.

“Maybe she’s looking to have something more to control them with?” Chevy suggests, as doubtful in the assumption as he is in the offer’s motivation, not certain he can even begin to make a well-informed guess on the matter. 

“Is that even what she wants anymore?” Kayla wonders aloud, letting out a sigh as she sinks into her seat once more, looking toward the ceiling as she continues to speak aloud, “it’s been a few months since we talked to her. Maybe she’s not looking to make enemies with them now?”

With the subtle shake of his head, Chevy surrenders to his uncertainty, putting the car in reverse and backing out of the alleyway as he admits defeat. “The only sense that we have is that it doesn’t make any” he confesses, pulling onto the main road with the hope of returning to a warm, quiet home.

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Sitting by the pool as the sun begins to set on another, less-rainy day, Kennedy loses herself in the pages of her book as she tries keeping to herself. Listening to a door shut in the front of the home, the girl continues to go about her day until a set of knocks soon follow, prompting her eyebrows to furrow.

“Go around the back!” Kennedy exclaims, barking orders to the person at her door in confusion, having mistaken the car for someone entirely different than one who’d be requesting entry to the home. Following the directions he’d been given, Chris steps through the connecting entrance and makes his way to the backyard, looking around for a moment before setting his eyes on the pool below.

“Sorry to interrupt” the man apologises, genuinely sorry for having to impede on the girls’ day, an obvious confusion over something that wraps around his mind. “I thought you were mom” Kennedy replies, setting her book upon the nearby desk as she pays her full attention to the visiting doctor, the source of her remark immediately prompting the man to reply.

“Yeah, speaking of which- where is she?” Chris replies, watching the look of surprise come across the young girl’s face, “she’s not answering her phone and Jaime hasn’t seen her since last night. I figured she’d be here, but-” 

“She’s not here” Kennedy interjects, climbing off her seat and ascending the stairs to join the doctor’s level, “I just thought she’s been with you the whole day.” Shaking his head, Chris refuses the notion, peering through the large, glass windows that line the hillside mansion to see no sign of the woman, the only life occupying the property being that of the small child that stands before him.

“We had plans to go out to lunch tomorrow, but the place had to shut down. I guess the storm knocked out the power and the food spoiled” Chris explains, “I’ve been trying to call her to reschedule, but I haven’t got an answer.” Unable to offer anything more than the shake of her head, Kennedy puts her hands on each hip and opens the home’s backdoor, stepping inside and leading the gentleman behind her into the living room.

“I haven’t seen her either dude, I don’t know what to tell you” Kennedy replies, stepping aside to open the floor for the man to explore, “you can look around if you need to, or- I don’t know, write a note? I haven’t seen her either.” Showing his teeth, Chris lets out a disappointed sigh before shaking his head, beginning to walk for the front door as he pays the girl his parting words.

“Just tell her to check her phone if you do see her, please?” the man politely requests, stepping through the front door before pausing, looking back into the home for a moment, “and if you need help or something, call the hospital and I’ll swing around.” Mustering an unconvincing smile, Kennedy nods in the man’s direction as the kind gesture falls on deaf ears, the door closing on his return to the car whilst the youngest Morris daughter is left with a large, empty house once more.

The first two digits on the nearest clock reading ‘10’, Kennedy sits beside a light whilst reading her book, losing track of time as the minutes pass like nothing. Flipping through pages, the girl pays no mind to the night sky or the well-lit towers in the distance, instead reading the tale of a young man’s adventure through an unfamiliar land in the name of freeing those he cares for.

Not a sound surrounding her, the ability for a pin to drop and send soundwaves through the room make it impossible for the soft buzzing in the near distance to not catch the girl’s ear. Slowly lifting her eyes from the fragile pages, Kennedy’s sights set on the dark corridors of the residence, not a single person having slipped through the front door other than Chris himself for the sound to emanate from.

Her curiosity calling her to action, Kennedy sets the book to the side and climbs off the couch, an empty wine bottle taken into her possession in the event a weapon is called for. Not wasting a second of time, the teenage girl steps through the hallway in search of the noise, walking as if there were no reason for concern in her search for an answer.

The final buzz coming in just as she passes the room in question, Kennedy’s sights take to the screen that lights her mother’s quarters with a dim glow, its display only remaining active for a few seconds before falling dark. Flicking the light switch, the woman’s daughter enters her bedroom, staring at the empty bed and at the pile of clothes her mother’s sleepwear is comprised of.

Not finding anything to be out of the ordinary, Kennedy stares at the nightstand with a single, open drawer before glancing back to the phone, its silent occupation of the table’s surface striking her as odd, but for reasons she doesn’t quite understand. Finding Chris’ name on the phone’s outer display, the girl thinks for a moment before returning the phone to where she’d found it, her mind having been made up on her next course of action.

Parking out front the lobby’s entrance, Kennedy leans her bike against the concrete column propping up the hospital’s covering, the ground just before its emergency room doors covered in tiny fragments of glass. Making herself at home, the girl steps through the mangled entrance and walks through the halls, taking one long stretch of hallway after another before stumbling across a familiar sight, her travels having taken her back to the mysterious set of double doors.

With furrowed eyebrows, Kennedy looks to the crash bar with interest and turns her back to what she believes is an empty lobby, unaware of the quiet set of feet that step out from around the nearest corner. Pushing the bars in to no avail, the youngest Morris sibling finds reluctance from the locked doors, prompting the voice behind her to call out for attention. “Can’t sleep, Ken?” Julia wonders aloud, watching the small girl turn to look at her, not showing an ounce of fear or strife.

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“A glass of wine, please” Jaime replies to the waitress taking her order, pinning her hair behind her ear as she reads from the menu, her right leg crossed over her left. “And for you, sir?” the server inquires, turning her attention toward Wade as he parts his eyes from the laminated registry of courses. “I’ll have your oldest merlot” the man replies, flashing the woman a half smile before returning his attention toward the menu, the woman’s heels tapping along the ground as she departs.

“Do you go out to dinner often?” Wade inquires, unravelling his silverware from the cloth they were housed in, watching Jaime read through the assortment of meals she holds in her lap. “No, I usually have dinner with my family” the woman answers honestly, setting the menu aside as she takes a sip from the nearest glass of water, “why do you ask?” Adjusting his tie, the New Democratic Front’s founder bows his chin toward the woman’s apparel, her casual outfit out of place for the establishment.

“I figured you’d have run out of formal dresses to show up to a place like this in a t-shirt, jeans and a jacket” Wade replies, watching the republic’s chancellor squint for a moment, slightly offended. “I’m sorry I was never the ‘stick up my ass’ politician type” Jaime retorts, earning an amused chuckle from the man across from her, “I don’t usually care for places like these.”

“Well, when I asked where you’d prefer to have dinner, why did you reply with here?” Wade inquires, a smirk of curiosity adorning his face. “It’s the closest place within walking distance to city hall” Jaime replies, shrugging as she admits to having very little alternative reason. “It’s a good reminder, though. A nice little look into what’s been able to happen in the republic, isn’t it?” the chancellor inquires, watching the man’s head fall as his smile is taken with it.

“You’ve done a fair enough job at keeping Los Angeles afloat, yes-” Wade responds, purposefully referring to it by the former title, “-that’s why we’ve kept you around.” Parting her lips to reply, Jaime holds her thought as the waitress returns with their requested drinks, a pen and pad in hand to jot down their orders.

“I’ll have the cooked salmon with a side of asparagus, thank you” Jaime remarks, bowing her head toward the pad as her friend-via-circumstance takes his turn to order. “I’ll have the twelve-ounce steak cooked medium rare” Wade replies, quickly sliding his menu to the centre of the table as Jaime politely hands hers off to the uniformed server, an appreciative smile given to her.

“You don’t get to choose whether or not I stay around, let’s get that clear” Jaime resumes her thought, the intrigued expression on the N.D.F founder’s face reading of a mix of displeasure and amusement. “You can call yourselves whatever you want and told guns around until the sun comes up, but the Angelino Republic is my domain” the chancellor declares, putting her finger to the surface of the table, “and if you were to try and take it from me, I’d make sure you’d stand to gain nothing.”

“Jaime, the need for baseless threats is futile” Wade quickly interrupts, holding his hands toward the woman’s face as his demeanour adjusts, putting forward an affable and cooperative expression in the face of presumed hostilities. “You are the chancellor, this is your Republic, and I’m not launching some campaign to have you removed from your post” the man confesses, subtly leaning back in his seat as he places his hands down, “-that said, there are things we’d like to see you improve.”

With a glare, the woman’s head turns toward the side just slightly, looking to the man out of the corner of her eye. “From what I’m hearing, you’ve got some issues with an underground group out here” Wade continues, watching the chancellor’s head dip and nod as he resumes speaking, “whilst we’re not too enthused about the ‘iron fist’ display you put on a few months ago, we understand where it comes from. We just want to know it’s not something to be greatly concerned with.”

“The peacekeepers are taken care of. I’m using them to take a page out of your book” Jaime replies, immediately watching the arch in Wade’s eyebrow take shape, his intrigue never lessening as far as the chancellor is concerned thus far.

“Starve the peacekeepers, make them the enemy in the eyes of the people that we keep fat and happy, and both sides go to war with each other instead of me” the woman remarks, flashing a smile toward the man who’d been doing much the same to her throughout the night. “Is that what you think we did?” Wade inquires, the look in the eyes of the woman across from him insinuating just that.

“No. We simply took the stupidest from both sides and turned them into a reliable voter base” Wade refutes, placing his hand to the side of the empty plate that sits before him, “we were constantly attacked- getting away unscathed was never the point. We needed to make sure we had people to defend us to the death whenever those attacks came around.”

“Is that why you poisoned the water system?” Jaime quickly interjects, the question one that prompts the man to bow his head, a more obvious disappointment taken from the accusation. “I never poison the well, so to speak” Wade argues in his favour, his head still facing downward as his eyes look up at the woman across from him. “The point was population control, not mass-tragedy” the man continues, making himself heard with profound clarity, “what happened with Project 1172 was accidental.”

“Is that what you’ll tell the others when they come looking for you?” Jaime inquires, cutting the man off with the same haste he had just seconds prior, “we both know you don't have all the time in the world at your disposal.”

“That’s why I’m here” Wade responds, matching the woman’s quick interruption with one of his own, the air growing still and quiet the moment he speaks. “Response will be harsh and violent. Other nations will immediately look at us to repay what was never our intention” the man continues, deconstructing his motivations in a precise and easily understandable way.

“If they are presented with a weak N.D.F, they will come at us for everything we have. We will be forced into extinction and people like me will be the first to have their heads removed” Wade explains, looking Jaime in the eyes as he nears his point, “but presence on the mainland- presence in your republic- it will show the rest of the world that we’re not down for the count just yet.”

“So this is all just a way to save your ass?” Jaime refutes, the suggestion she’d taken from the man’s words quickly argued against. “No. This is a way to make sure you and I- just like everyone that looks up to us for leadership and support- have a world to live in past today and tomorrow” Wade concludes, “I weeded out all the corrupt, partisan hacks because I knew what they would use 1172- er, the catalyst- to push. I wouldn’t let things be any worse than what they were.”

“So you’re a martyr?” Jaime concludes, unimpressed with the speech the man provides to her, one that she can’t tell whether or not to perceive as genuine. “Someone that- while yeah, used to be that same corrupt hack- doesn’t feel that way anymore?” the chancellor continues, trying to dig further into the skin to see how far she can get before blood is drawn, “-someone who finally saw the error of his ways and wants to do good now that he’s wiped out, what? Half the population?”

“Project 1172 was not my plan, but yes-” Wade replies, finding common ground with the woman as the server returns with two plates, quietly setting them before the people she assumes she’s better off not interrupting. “-yes, I want to do good. That starts here-” the man concludes, passing a glance at the exquisite restaurant they sit within, “-in the Angelino Republic.”

Though his words speak tales she struggles to assume are genuine, Jaime can’t help herself but question the man’s motivations. “I don’t believe you” she responds, looking the man in the eyes as his sombre expression slowly turns into a devious smile, one that accompanies him as he leans back in his seat. “And you shouldn’t” Wade replies, picking his utensils up and cutting into his dinner, pointing the prongs of his fork toward the woman’s plate, “eat up.”

Her lip curling, Jaime takes the glass of red wine into her hand and takes a sip from the cup, stepping out of her seat and turning for the way she came. “Ms. Morris-” Wade calls out, stopping the woman’s departure after a few seconds of letting the display play out, allowing him a moment to chew his first bite, “-our military is still the strongest in the world, our navy is top-notch, and we still command most of what’s left of the western world. Of course they won’t retaliate.”

Nostrils flaring, Jaime takes another sip from her glass before turning back, looking at the man with inquisitive eyes as she returns to the table, though not intending to retake her seat. “What makes you think I won’t?” the woman queries, setting her drink back on the table as she presses both hands to each side of her plate.

“Because you’re smarter than that” Wade quickly answers, this reply both genuine and honest, “you could see through that thick pig shit I just spewed off to you with flying colours. I know I made it obvious, but that’s still impressive.”

“Then what do you really want?” Jaime counters, locking eyes with the man before standing straight up, waiting for his answer. Slowly chewing his next bite before staring off into the distance, the man answers with one word before chewing the chunks of meat that sit between his teeth, “everything.”

Reaching for a moist towelette, Wade wipes the corner of his mouth before pressing his elbow into the table, keeping his eyes on the woman’s own as he speaks. “Project 1172 introduced the people that are still alive to a very different, entirely new world than the one we’ve left behind” the founder explains, “it’s honestly quite telling that Los Angeles would be one of the few pillars it left standing.”

Remaining quiet, Jaime gathers all that she can from the man’s remarks, noticing the egotistic and power-hungry desires that flood through the man’s mind, his idea of a new world introducing the hurdle that stands before her republic. “People have a duty to serve their superiors. It’s why we built businesses to the blueprint of empires. One person on top, a million little soldiers at the bottom, and a few, good men in the middle” Wade concludes, “I’m the one on top.”

Grimacing, Jaime shakes her head in refusal, downing the rest of her wine before throwing the glass to the ground, allowing it to shatter whilst her opposition and forced-ally remains unimpressed at the display. “Is this outburst supposed to enlighten me to some greater truth you’re hiding?” Wade queries, genuinely looking for an answer that comes in the form of the chancellor’s headshake.

“I’ll play nice with you while I have to, but don’t get this twisted- you and I are not on the same side” Jaime declares, a revelation that comes as a surprise to neither patron. “If you try to replace me, I’ll make sure you feel every last bit of fight these people- my people- have to offer” the chancellor concludes, slamming her fist upon the table and pulling away to leave, “this is my republic.”

Walking for the door, the woman’s attention is called for by the man once more, her eyes glaring at him from over her shoulder as her hand rests on the handle to the front door. “I just want you to remember, chancellor- you have no power here as it is. I feed your people, I clothe your people, I keep them supplied with gas and protected with men on the ground” Wade explains, “as far as your republic goes, it is to me exactly what you are to me- a puppet.”

Seething, the woman’s eye twitches as her breathing grows heavy, nearly taking the form of a growl as the founder concludes his thought. “It’s time to give up on your dreams of being the one at the top. There’s nothing wrong with being one of the good men in the middle-” Wade concludes, looking at Jaime’s reflection in the glass panels of the door she stands at, “-start solidifying your place there before you find yourself knocked to the bottom... as just another little soldier.”

Not wasting another moment, the woman leaves her salmon to cool as she steps through the door, re-entering the Angelino Republic as her apparent superior remains behind, enjoying his meal and a night on the town to himself, treated to luxuries just the same as he anticipates receiving when his vision of the new world takes shape as described.

== Dire ==