Operation Birdsong: Part ThirteenMature

Four hours into the meeting, and all the dignitaries had done was talk in circles about mistakes from the past and whether or not the threat was real. Tray was comfortably reclining in his chair, both hands behind his head and now both feet propped on the edge of the president’s desk, much to the president’s chagrin. Ren had her head propped up in one hand as she leaned against the side of her chair. She sighed and closed her eyes, not that it made much difference to her. Trey yawned.

            “Does this talk bore you, Mr. Mitchell?” asked the German president. “Maybe we should allow them to leave and get back to their important lives.”

            “It’s not the talk that bores us,” Trey replied through another yawn. “It’s the talking in circles that we find boring. If all you wanted us for was just to see if you could reinstate Birdsong, then that’s not going to get you anywhere either. There’s nothing you can possibly do or offer that would make anyone from there, not just us, want to start reliving the horrors that went on there.”

            “Then why are you even here?” the German president asked, his accent thick with contempt.

            “I invited them to come because I needed their opinions on this threat. While they may only be children in your eyes, they were two of the best-trained agents in reading body language and assessing and disposing of threats. Ren especially was one of the best assassins when she was younger,” the American president explained angrily. “Now if you’d rather not have them here, and continue talking in circles about nothing, then I will gladly have someone show you out.”

            “Then what does the girl think we should do?” the German president asked.

            “I think the same thing I thought four hours ago,” she said tiredly as she lifted up her head. “Now I may be blind, but even I can see that everyone in this room is getting frustrated at the lack of progress in this room. We need to tighten up the defenses at home and prepare for a pending invasion. Start having the American people stock up on food and water, similar to what they would do if preparing for a natural disaster. Send them to their closest Red Cross and stock up on first aid kits, have them buying extra blankets, battery powered radios, things like that.” She turned her pale green eyes toward the American president. “Mr. President, I know you said that you’re a supporter of the second amendment, now prove it. Allow your citizens to store weapons and ammunition. Let them protect their own homes while we work to protect them from everything else.”

            “And what would you have your allies do?” asked the British prime minister, speaking up for the first time in hours.

            “Help us defend our country,” Trey answered. “We’ve fought three wars on your soil, saving you. Now it’s your turn to help us on our home turf.”

            “So then what’s our next move?” he asked.

            “Find the rest of Operation Birdsong. While there is nothing you can offer us to make us willingly change our minds, many of us will put aside old nightmares to defend our home,” Ren said softly in the silence that followed.

            “Who will re-train the old operatives?” someone in the back of the room asked.

            “Mr. Mitchell and Miss Trivitt,” the American president replied.

            Ren’s eyes grew wide and she stared in shock at Trey.

            “Us?” she asked softly as the rest of the people in the room all began talking at once.

The End

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