Act IV
Scene 3: An Apparition
The wind around the Oval Office blew with such force that it gave off an eerie moan, causing the trees to sway and the bushes to rustle with startling ferocity. The sky let loose a sudden lightning bolt and the President gave a start. He was standing behind his desk chair, looking out at the gathering dark of the storm outside. He lamented at how it had been a rather pleasant evening only moments before. Now the storm clouds outside turned the sky so inky black that it almost looked like it was full night. So with a weary sigh, the old man took another long sip of coffee from his mug. It was probably going to be another long night. Coordinating with the Russians after Afghanistan had left no time for sleep.
The President's next sip was interrupted by another sudden lightning strike, causing him to almost lose control of the mug. Showing reflexes surprisingly still acute for man his age, however, he recovered the mug and returned it to his desk while only spilling a few drops onto the carpet. Then he looked up and gave another start.
The room had gone dark. The lights were out and for some reason the backup lights had not kicked on, and standing just behind one of the twin couches was a massive dark figure robed in black. The President squinted to make out the stranger's features but then a third lightning strike came down and lit up the room revealing that it was empty.
The President blinked his eyes confusedly. Then he was seized by the sudden dread of knowledge that perhaps his condition was advancing faster than he cared to admit to himself. He tried to remember if he had taken all of his various medications that day but he couldn't quite recall. So he turned around to look back out the window and almost died of fright to find the dark figure standing right in front of him.
Letting out a little scream, the President fell back into his chair and trembled there for a while. Finally, the figure in black spoke in his gravelly, near demonic voice, "I know what you did to Clark."
Dabbing at the beads of sweat starting to form on his forehead, the President stuttered back, "W-w-what are you talking about?"
But almost before he had the words out, the demon snapped back "Don't play games with me!"
The President held his hands up defensively and pleaded, "Okay, okay, you got it. But it wasn't my idea, I swear!"
"Who ordered the strike," the demon croaked.
"It was Miss Wells' idea. She's been the point person for doing away with the League from the start, ever since she left Wayne Enterprises to come work for the administration. The same year the Gotham Bat and Clark decided to set aside their differences, she joined my campaign trying to get me to change my position on the League. When I decided against it, she went straight to the Joint Chiefs with the idea of a truce with the Russians in exchange for ending the League. My hands were tied. I either had to go along with the plan or risk the resignation of half my cabinet!"
The demon leaned down to bring itself face to face with the President. "How do you and the Russians plan on taking out the rest of the League?"
The President shook his head at the bat eared apparition. "You'll have to ask her yourself. There's only a few days left until the election and everyone is already reporting to my likely successor, including Wells. They don't tell me anything anymore. All they do is tell me where to order the strikes."
The grim faced demon let out a growl as he backed off a few steps and stood upright again. "If it weren't for the end of your term, you'd be dangling by a rope from the capitol dome for what you did to Clark. As it stands, you're to order no more strikes. You're to do nothing else at all until you leave here… or you'll be hearing from me again."
The President gulped as he spun his chair around, unable to look the demon in the eye anymore. Then he let his hands fall to his desk as he sighed, "Look… I'm sorry for what happened to Clark. He was… he was my friend. I knew one of you guys would eventually come after me and I just want you all to know I haven't been able to sleep since it happened. No one regrets what happened more than I, but it was a matter of survival. "
When this heartfelt confession was met only with silence, the President summoned the courage to spin his chair back around to face the apparition one more time, but when he did so, he was met only with empty space and the view out the windows of the rustling bushes beyond. Suddenly the lights powered back on and the President heard a brief tap at the door. He spun back around again to see a member of his security detail peering through the doorway.
"Sorry to disturb you sir," the young man apologized. "But we got the backup generator back online and we just wanted to make sure you were doing okay."
After taking a brief glance behind himself, the President hesitantly answered, "I'm fine. You can go."