Angela strode to the front of the room elegantly, and Dimitri, one among
the twenty men crowded in the corner behind her, noted as several of the
others watched her closely, regarding her in every possible manner. She
turned around, and every one of them instantly looked away. Dimitri
wondered if this was a quality that she'd inherited from Hans her father,
to be able to silence and frighten grown men into cowering fetal positions
in their chairs by simply trying to look them in the eyes.
"Do any of you recognize this man?"
Sanchez threw the photo up on the wall from his laptop, and growls and the cracking of knuckles could be heard in the perfect silence.
"McCaine. Of course."
An older man rose from the other end of the long glass table, his graying blond hair getting a little long in the back.
"Angela, aren't you tired of fighting this battle? He is gone."
Dimitri watched her as she clenched her gloved fists, obviously restraining herself from lunging at him. He commanded respect, even hers. She cast him a side glance, and her steely eyes softened a bit, barely enough to see.
"Russell, he is never gone. Everyone here knows that. That-" She kicked softly at the glass tile at her feet. "That is why I am standing up here before you all with this picture and you are sitting there listening to my voice."
Russell took his seat and cocked his head thoughtfully to one side. "Angela, dear, you must recall that your father Mr. Gruber and I were great friends. But I still do not understand why you rebel against what authority I command. I should be standing up there-this is no place for a lady." She flinched and clenched the other fist just as tightly. "If I had my way we'd all be on a plane bound for your birthplace at this very hour." Some of the other men nodded in agreement, but most focused on Angela, just waiting for her to reach her breaking point. Every woman had one.
Angela took a moment to speak. "Mr. Thoroughs, you must recall that you were always under my father's authority and that in saying so you remain under mine. Do not refer to me as anything lesser and do not rise, please." "You are truly your father's daughter." Russell said spitefully.
Angela gazed at him curiously for a moment before continuing.
"Now, need our good friend Davidoff read a list of Mr. McCaine's brave accomplishments?" Not a head nodded in the room.
"I didn't think so. I believe he last foiled our collective plans in his hometown of New York, where he stopped one of Mr. Thorough's quieter associates from destroying their ever-slower subway system." A few of the men chuckled, including Sanchez. Angela spoke moderately quickly and at a small tone but she still held the attention of every man in the place, just as her old man had taught her while his heart still beated.
"Our dear Sanchez has uncovered a possible operation by the Russian Communist Party, who refused to attend this meeting (to obviously work more on it), that could try to overthrow their current czar. I believe he is a very good friend to the American president and would make an excellent bribe when held captive at a United Nations annual budget meeting. Now, if Mr. McCaine receives news of this plot, which no doubt he will somehow, it could mean the termination of their childish ambitions but perhaps the perfect trap to avenge Nakatomi.for all of us."
Now she looked to her men. "I have myself gathered twenty of Europe's finest and seen to it that they were trained in both attack technique and self-defense. They have been acquainted with my father's favorite weaponry selection, and they are the strongest, faster, and smartest I can provide."
Several heads turned, and Dimitri found himself sweating.
"Now, Russell, my friend, am I still such a lady?"
Russell looked up-he hadn't been paying her attention, as usual. "Yes." He growled, and no one dared look at either of them as she dismissed.
"Do any of you recognize this man?"
Sanchez threw the photo up on the wall from his laptop, and growls and the cracking of knuckles could be heard in the perfect silence.
"McCaine. Of course."
An older man rose from the other end of the long glass table, his graying blond hair getting a little long in the back.
"Angela, aren't you tired of fighting this battle? He is gone."
Dimitri watched her as she clenched her gloved fists, obviously restraining herself from lunging at him. He commanded respect, even hers. She cast him a side glance, and her steely eyes softened a bit, barely enough to see.
"Russell, he is never gone. Everyone here knows that. That-" She kicked softly at the glass tile at her feet. "That is why I am standing up here before you all with this picture and you are sitting there listening to my voice."
Russell took his seat and cocked his head thoughtfully to one side. "Angela, dear, you must recall that your father Mr. Gruber and I were great friends. But I still do not understand why you rebel against what authority I command. I should be standing up there-this is no place for a lady." She flinched and clenched the other fist just as tightly. "If I had my way we'd all be on a plane bound for your birthplace at this very hour." Some of the other men nodded in agreement, but most focused on Angela, just waiting for her to reach her breaking point. Every woman had one.
Angela took a moment to speak. "Mr. Thoroughs, you must recall that you were always under my father's authority and that in saying so you remain under mine. Do not refer to me as anything lesser and do not rise, please." "You are truly your father's daughter." Russell said spitefully.
Angela gazed at him curiously for a moment before continuing.
"Now, need our good friend Davidoff read a list of Mr. McCaine's brave accomplishments?" Not a head nodded in the room.
"I didn't think so. I believe he last foiled our collective plans in his hometown of New York, where he stopped one of Mr. Thorough's quieter associates from destroying their ever-slower subway system." A few of the men chuckled, including Sanchez. Angela spoke moderately quickly and at a small tone but she still held the attention of every man in the place, just as her old man had taught her while his heart still beated.
"Our dear Sanchez has uncovered a possible operation by the Russian Communist Party, who refused to attend this meeting (to obviously work more on it), that could try to overthrow their current czar. I believe he is a very good friend to the American president and would make an excellent bribe when held captive at a United Nations annual budget meeting. Now, if Mr. McCaine receives news of this plot, which no doubt he will somehow, it could mean the termination of their childish ambitions but perhaps the perfect trap to avenge Nakatomi.for all of us."
Now she looked to her men. "I have myself gathered twenty of Europe's finest and seen to it that they were trained in both attack technique and self-defense. They have been acquainted with my father's favorite weaponry selection, and they are the strongest, faster, and smartest I can provide."
Several heads turned, and Dimitri found himself sweating.
"Now, Russell, my friend, am I still such a lady?"
Russell looked up-he hadn't been paying her attention, as usual. "Yes." He growled, and no one dared look at either of them as she dismissed.
