Gifted

Ch. 4 They're Anthing but Irrelevant

Marcus Kisinger walked into the front entrance to the Empire State Building in New York City with two very muscular, very tall bodyguards flanking him on his left and right. All three garbed in suits, but Chairman Kisinger's was clearly the most expensive. The Chairman had an important meeting to attend with the Committee Regarding the Control of the Cursed. They had some issues to address. Marcus walked into the building with a self-assured swagger. His salt and pepper hair was cleanly swept over, and a frameless pair of glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. His eyes were an unforgiving silver that made you feel as though he could see into your soul.

           "Mr. Chairman," the attendant addressed him as he walked across the marble floor. She swept a card through the security checkpoint for him, allowing him to walk right past without stopping.

                 Next, the bodyguard to his left stepped ahead of him pushing the up button on for the elevator. DING. The elevator doors opened and all three men stepped in, headed for the sixty-fifth floor.

                 When the committee members saw Kisinger walking down the hall and toward the conference room, all conversation stopped in silent reverence. The committee members were all dressed identically in black pin-stripe suits and plain black ties and shoes. Kisinger walked into the conference room, holding his hand up, gesturing to stop as the members began to rise from their seats. "Please, sit," he insisted. Kisinger then closed the door to the conference room, leaving his bodyguards outside, along with all the non-essential staff that worked under the members of the committee.

                 Marcus Kisinger coolly took his seat and the head of the table, "What's the discussion agenda for today?"

                 One of the indistinguishable committee members half way down the table stated, "There is the Maine-New Hampshire border, the MP Security marches, and the records of the cursed," he read off quickly.

                 "Alright people let's start from the top, the border, who's topic is that?" Kisinger inquired.

                 "Mine sir," Thomas Fletcher stood up. "I believe that the border is being over-secured," he started.

                 "How do you propose we go about fixing this?" Kisinger asked, hoping to stimulate a more detailed response.

                 "Our men feel as if their time is wasted along the border, there haven't been any outbreaks in decades. We should remove up to half of the men currently stationed at the Maine-New Hampshire Camps."

                 "Hmm," Kisinger thought, "I believe you are correct," a look of relief came across Fletcher's face. "Over the next two years we will systematically reduce the border MP's by fifty percent," Kisinger quantified.

                 "If I may sir," Miranda Roberts spoke up, "I would like to address the MP Security marches, and I really feel like it goes hand in hand with the border patrol topic," she said in a long winded burst.

                 "You don't have to convince me that you should be allowed to speak Ms..." he trailed off.

                 "Roberts," she responded, brushing aside her bangs back with her brown bob cut.

                 "Yes, Ms. Roberts," he continued, "I assume you are on this committee for a reason, and therefore do not need to prove yourself as knowledgeable on the subject at hand. Please tell us what you have on the marches," he concluded.