Oblivious, Dunne responds, “I’ll just wait outside.” He steps back into the side office and closes the door.
“Before you call...” Endo starts, making himself comfortable in one of the two flower print couches positioned face-to-face in front of the large, ornately carved desk. The office itself is far gaudier than I would have imagined. The gold and white oval rug covering most of the floor is some kind of modern design that looks more like an 8-bit Mario got sick. To make it worse, red flowers cover the design like explosions, or blood. Next to Gordon and his Kaiju, it’s the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen. The paintings around the room are equally bad, framed in gold. “…I believe you will want to hear us out. My employer would agree.”
The phone hovers next to Beck’s ear, but he doesn’t dial.
“You’ve been ignoring your supporters,” Endo says. He nods at me. “And those who have saved you in the past. That is rude, don’t you think?”
“Look,” Beck says, leaning forward, one hand on the desk, the other hanging up the phone. “I’m not some stooge you can just tell what to do. Irregardless of your employer’s support, I need to do what is best for this country.”
I raise an index finger. “First, did you really just say, ‘irregardless?’ And second, since when is letting giant monsters kill U.S. citizens and smash billions worth in property, what is ‘best for this country?’”
“We’re not going to let that happen,” Beck says. “All you’ve supplied us with are band-aids and medical bills. Speaking of which, I thought you two were supposed to be in the hospital?”
Endo chuckles. “Thoughts can be deceiving.”
“Ignore him, sir,” I say. “He’s an idiot, and you should have never assigned him to the FC-P.” I glance at Endo. This is going to hurt my soul. “That said...I believe the technology supplied by Zoomb is our best bet at containing—”
“I don’t want to contain this problem,” Beck says. His tomato face ripens before my eyes. “I want to eradicate it. I want to bury it.”
I look at the domed ceiling and sigh. “You going to nuke the Kaiju.”
“You’re damn right I’m going to nuke them.”
“Where?” I ask. “Because in case you haven’t noticed, they tend to only surface in populated areas.”
Beck’s anger slides away. He understands the reality of his position. “Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good.”
I smile like Steve Martin just entered the room holding a banjo. Still smiling, I take my red beanie cap, which now has a neural transmitter woven into the fabric, from my pocket and slide it onto my head. It’s a tight fit, but makes my head feel normal for the first time in a week of disguises.
“What?” the President asks. “You find all this amusing?”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I really shouldn’t be smiling. It’s just that I’m very glad to hear you say that. Because sacrifice is exactly what will be required.”
Beck nods slowly, unsure whether I’m agreeing with him.
I reach out to shake his hand. He looks down at my peace offering with skeptical eyes. “This is why you entered my office unannounced?” He waggles his finger at me. “I don’t think so. You’re many things, but agreeable is not one of them.”
I keep my hand extended. “Funny, that’s how I would describe you.”
“What are you really after?”
I lift my hand higher. “A hand shake.”
Beck winces like King Kong just farted. My very presence offends him, most likely because I’m a stark reminder that he’s a sucky president.
“Maybe you should look at what’s in my hand,” I say.
Beck squints at me and leans forward. “I don’t see—”
I snap my arm up, twist it around and smack the face of my watch, identical to Endo’s, against his temple.
The President reels back, aghast, blubbering, winding up to scream for help.
“Sit down and shut up,” I say.
The man obeys. My orders—my very thoughts—are sent to his mind as though God himself were commanding the man. The connection to a human mind is insignificant compared to that of Nemesis. I feel a slight headache coming on. Nothing a few painkillers couldn’t handle. I can feel his mind, like a pliable blob of clay, ready to be shaped. I’m not sure what it would feel like with a stronger minded person, but luckily, Beck is fairly weak-willed.
Endo yawns and leans back, placing his feet on the couch. “How does it feel?”
“Easy,” I says.
“That’s not what I meant,” Endo says. “How does it feel to be the most powerful person in the world?”