The First DayMature

A billionaire in search of his true origin has convinced himself he should rule the world because of his special abilities. He finds several others with similar abilities and offers them large amounts of money for their loyalty. At the same time another man is gathering his own team to stop the billionaires evil plansv


Thursday 11:36 am, the clouds sweep across the sky in from the west as a drizzle falls upon the thousands of people that have already filled the city of Washington D.C.  Still they move along like sheep going on about their hectic daily rituals.  One of those citizens has recently become individually the most inspiring man in modern day America he is the former Texas governor, A.K.A. the last JohnWayne and newly elected President of the United States.  He won by an overwhelmingly majority of the vote.

 “Mr. President will you be ordering out today?” inquires a thin sickly looking elderly man clothed in butlers garments that are obviously to big.

“Thank you Kobe”, beams the President, “I would love to except the first lady made me my favorite, slow cooked corn beef,” he winks his eye, “You can order something for yourself, Kobe”.  The old man nods his head as a responses causing his reading glasses to slip slightly down his pointy nose he slowly places them firmly back on his face.

“Should I order the chicken sir”

“If that’s what you want”

Kobe nods again this time holding on to his glasses as he shuts the door behind him.

 MichaelKlein the freshly elected President of the United States laughs at his long time servant who he considers an old friend as he opens a tupperware container that holds his lunch.  He pauses,  grinding his teeth together as he thinks of all the hard work that got him to where he is today.  He smiles somewhat before placing his lunch back on to his desk.  He then leans back in his seat kicking his feet up on his desk admiring the view of the oval office.  “Spectacular” he whispers to himself.

 After a few minutes of patting himself on the back, the proud Texan starts once more fumbling with his lunch, this time actually retrieving his sandwich.  He begins reading some old budget reports left behind by his predecessors.  Once again,  he attempts to eat his lunch when he is distracted again by a knock at the door.

“Lord, I aint never gonna eat this dam sandwich am I”  he burbles.  A young well shaped freckled face woman peeps' her head in the door.

 “Sir, a Mr.Ortes is here to see you.,” she says with an enthusiastic smile.

 Her name is Heather Pope, the Presidents secretary and his step niece which is the only reason she qualified for the job, that and a lot of pressure from his rich family members, the ones he’s not relate to by blood.

“Dam it!” blurts the President as mustard dribbles from his humongous sandwich onto his white shirt.  He shrugs his shoulders and takes a bite of his sandwich

“Finally” he rejoices as his sandwich melts deliciously in his mouth

“Is every thing O.K. uncle….I mean sir”, inquired Heather who is now standing in the doorway in a skirt short enough to get her arrested in any of the bible belt states.

“Yeah, everything’s fine, sugar.”

Her face frowns up, most men would stop what ever they were doing for such a well-carved woman in a short skirt.

“  Its’ just I paid two hundred dollars for this dam shirt two days ago”

“I’m sure there’s a good dry cleaner in town.” she replies sorely

“Yeah but not like back home, in Arlington I supposes these city slickers have a decent dry cleaners,” He smirks before scooping up the mustard on his shirt with his finger,“ Send that Mr. Ortes fella on in, Heather” he requests after a few seconds of bliss, he loves honey mustard.


“Right a way” she pretends to smile before stomping out the room.

Not long after that, a bald and very pale man dressed in an expensive black designer suite.  The man looks as if to purposely be hiding his identity behind a pair expensive shaded glasses walks into the president’s office.

“Mr.Ortes’ stanchly says the President, extending his hand.

The man shakes the president’s hand with an extremely firm grip if it would have been any harder he may have broken his hand.

“Dam-it” snaps the President.

He angrily pulls his hand away, shaking it as if that some how would stop it from throbbing.

“Sorry Mr. President”

 He returns to his seat motioning his other hand out offering his guest a seat.  Mr.Ortes refuses.

  “ O.K. Mr.Ortes, if that’s your real name,” adds President Klein as he opens a folder on his desk with his uninjured hand.  He takes quite a few minutes reading the notes he highlighted last night on the highly classified documents.

“ I’ve been expecting you….oh how I have been expecting you”, eagerly grins the president as he sits up in his seat.

Several more soundless minutes pass as Klein continues romping through his paper work before the stranger becomes anxious and takes his glasses off.

“You have made a big mistake” he interrupts

“No I haven’t, I have you right where I want you, boy”

“With all dew respect you calling me here have cost me a critical amount of time that I can’t afford to waste.  You are unwittingly under minding me and you’re wasting my time,” The bald man proclaims.

The President eyes grow wide as his face crossly tenses up and his mouth forms somewhat of a  half smile letting out a sarcastic  chuckle, “I’m wasting your time… huh”

“Yes, Mr. President you are.  This is not a political ploy to upstage your presidency.  This is serious, I am in the middle of an important investigation.  Things are happening you could not possibly understand.  I need you to back off and let me do my job” Promptly responds Ortes

“I didn’t invite you here to tell me how to do my job.  I have the best intelligence in the world at the tips of my  fingers.  I don’t need you to tell me what I can or can’t understand, boy.”  Says Klein in a stern voice.


The two men give each other stern looks followed by more cold silence; the President finally finds the documents he has so sorely sought.  Then with a dangle of the wrist, he tosses them at Ortes.  The papers hit him in the chest and fall to the floor.  Ortes just stands there unimpressed or threaten .

“I need to know who you are and what the hell you are doing,” demands the President as he attempts to keep a calm tone.

“Congressman Culpepper can get you up to speed.  I’m sure President Markesan left proper orders for you Mr. President.”

There is a brief minute of awkward silence.  The only the sound heard was that of the blades of a ceiling fan cutting through the air.

“I don’t work for congressman Culpepper, boy!  He works for me, dam it.  Now, I am asking you, Mr.Ortes, what it is exactly is it you do”.

Ortes looks into the Presidents eyes he sees the hostility raging inside him and realizes he is not ready to be told the truth.

“It’s confidential; the congressman can inform you of some of the details” replies Ortes with a dreadfully serious look on his face.

The President laughs again “Really”

“Yes sir, really”

The commander and chief face turns a dark red; he shuts his eyes momentarily and takes a deep breath.

“O.K. smartass, Let me here your excuse for this one.  I was looking at some classified files last night and I stumbled across something that I found to be pretty dam odd” he picks up his sandwich briefly before tossing it back in it’s waxy paper wrap.  “What in Pete’s sake is the D.O.G.D. and what part of the government does that fall under, boy?”

Ortes just stand there silent in a sort of military style stance his face is emotionless.  The bald man gives no responds.

“I also notice you’re in charged of this fraudulent program and you have several unidentified staff-members on your payroll.  All getting paid by Uncle Sam…” he pauses“, so what I want to know is who the hell are you and what the hell is the D.OD.G.”

“Once again, sir it’s confidential you will be brought up to speed once we know you can be trusted.  Its’ nothing personal sir, It took Markesan some time before he was put in the loop”

President Klein slams his fist on his desk then angrily swipes everything clean off it.

“Look here,” he shouts pointing his figure at Ortes, “ I’m the most powerful man in the world, one word for me and I’ll have you locked in a cell in a third word country getting water-boarded by some terrorist wearing a turban”

“No your not sir” counters Ortes still stoned faced.


“You’re not the most powerful man in the world, that’s who I’m trying to stop from destroying life as we know it.  You sir calling me here put everything I have been working on in jeopardy.  I have a man putting his life at risk in Ireland right now.  So again, sir, with all due respect do not make this mistake again.  You could cost someone their life”

Once again, the president becomes outraged.  He raises straight up grabbing Ortes by his suit collar.

 “That’s it!  I have had enough of this crap!  I don’t know how you got President Markesan to go along with this non-sense but I’m certainly not.  For goodness grayish he’s giving you access to just about every bit of intelligence the country has, you better hope your not some sort of new wave spy or something.  I am shutting you down Ortes!  Immediately!”

Effortlessly Ortes frees himself from the president grip and with one exceptional move quickly has the president falling backward back into his chair.

“I don’t think so, sir” coldly responds Ortes as he places his glasses back on.

“You have a lot of balls son, I’ll give that.  You don’t intimidate me, do you know what they call me back home in Texas, boy…”boast the President as he stands up again this time poking he’s chest out boldly.


A confused look displays on the commander and chief’s face followed by one of embarrassment.

“What are you on drugs or something boy or just plum crazy?”

“Julio Verandas” retorts a confident Ortes.  The Presidents face tightens up as a pin sized bead of sweat trickles down his face.

Ortes makes his way around the president’s desk.

“What the hell do you want you son of a bitch?” 

“You remember, Julio, don’t you Mr.Klein?  He calls you buttercup or at least he use to before you had him deported.  If I’m correct you announced your decision to run for governor a few weeks after that”

“Non-sense” the president attempts to say boldly but his words whimpers out.

 Ortes pulls his cell phone out his pocket then hands it to the President.

At first, Mr.Klein refuses but eventually realizes he has no choice and rudely snatches it.

 He fondles with Otres’s phone and its obvious he’s upset at what he see’s

“How the hell did you get these pictures?”

“That’s not important.  It would be very bad for your presidency if all your constituents found out you like to roll around with Cuban pool boys, not to mention your wife. Oh yeah one more thing how’s your farther .Mr. Ilorin, does he still own all them oil companies”

“You bastard”

“Don’t contact me again, if I need you I’ll let you know?” orders Ortes as he turns to leave, “If you want to know what I’m doing do something me.”

Mr.Klein angrily sits at his desk nonresponsive.

  “Some new disease has infected thousands of people around the world.  I believe it was done purposely.”

“Are you talking about the Landaus Virus?” marvels a suspicious commander and chief.

 “Some of the infected in this country recently went to Ireland to see Doctor GwynethJohns she’s suppose to be some sort of specialist.  I don’t know if she’d involved or just another one of Lendersons pawns but none of the people who went for treatment have been heard from in weeks”

“Why the hell should I believe anything you say?  Especial about DonaldLenderson.”

 “People have gone missing, if you want to do something to help, look in to it.  Prove I can trust you.  Prove to me you really are the last JohnWayne… please be discreet.”

The president leans back in his seat with an arrogant look on his face.

“Not that it’s any of your business but I’m not gay.”

“Doesn’t matter to me, you’re an adult, live your life the way you want”

“Well my one little discretion sure has been beneficial for you, hasn’t it?”

“Just, doing my job, sir.”

 “So this is how you got my predecessor to fund your little private organization did you blackmail him too.  Just what the hell kind of dirt did you have on him?”

Ortes stop but doesn’t turn around and just mumbles,” Ask his daughter”

The End

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