Virus

Twenty Eight

As much as I thought that putting a bullet in Hollers head would fill the void in my soul, I was wrong. It felt like just another tally on the chart of the lives that I've taken.

Two weeks ago, I assassinated Mick Holler. Over the past fourteen days, we've been preparing to negotiate treaty agreements with Canada. It surprised me that President Girida was willing to negotiate peace. He was the kind of leader who would usually try to destroy his enemies.

Girida and his appointees had managed to reconnect with the other countries outside of North America. Germany, France, China agreed to have our backs if Canada didn't oblige to our agreements.

Later that afternoon I was in Sara's hotel room, helping plan the memorial service. Once we cleared the White House of the remaining virus cells, we would have a firing service for anyone that had been killed. We obviously couldn't do them all individually.

Girida cracked the door open and poked his head in. "Can I come in?" He asked waking in the door and closing the door.

"Sure," Sara grumbled sarcastically.

"I need to talk to you, Kelly," he said.

Sara and I both glared at him quizzically.

"It's not something private or weird but it is very serious," he assured.

I turned back to the table and began sorting through the flash cards with the decor ideas on them.

"It's obvious Canada won't oblige to our treaty agreements," he started.

"What exactly are the agreements?" I asked.

"That they give us our land back and the equivalent to half of what they took out of their country."

"No no shit their not agreeing to that," Sara said, chiming in.

"They would agree if the treaty was just to leave us alone. They aren't going to give up that much land without fighting for it."

I knew Girida had always planned to wage war with Canada. But this way he was making himself look good doing it.

"I came here to tell you something. I am going to start fighting of the frontline in this war. I don't want to be known as the world leader who hid behind his ranks. I need a vice just in case I die out there. And your perfect material for the American President."

I gaped at him. Was he kidding. I was nowhere near presidential material.

"Your focused in battle, you are a decisive and smart. And you care about everyone's needs, not just your own. And it'll be pretty awesome being being the first official female president."

I couldn't talk so I just shook my head. The President of the United States was not my speed. Not my first choice of occupation.

"I'll take it," Sara said as if it was just another job offer.

"Sure, your as much material as she is."

Then he was gone. I looked as Sara. "President?"

"Eh," is all she said.