[𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝]
They tripped on the urge to feel alive.
•
Ariya Davis is a dangerous mess of beauty and brains bottled together. Snarky, rebellious and armed with an air of entitlement, she struggles to make friends.
Nathaniel Mirs...
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That evening, the atmosphere is tense as we sit at the dining table inside the small kitchen of the house. We've set up a mid-sized projector screen on one side of the table where the chief of the secret intelligence service, the country's defence and finance secretaries have joined remotely for the ongoing discussion.
If the circumstances were different, I would have been fangirling like a pro because I love politics and discussing about its intricacies and I never once in my life expected to have a formal meeting with some of the top executive officials of the country's government where I was an active part of the discussion and post-strategy. Too bad that the President hadn't joined in yet, it would've been an entire party then.
"The size of a hummingbird, you say," the intelligence chief repeats slowly, a deep frown painted over his face, "Neither Russia nor China prefer to use that kind of technology so we can sideline them for now but I don't think we can completely ignore the fact that they have strong, well funded drone surveillance experimental projects. I'll have a detailed report made on all the models of drones we have archived until now so we can delve deeper into this aspect."
I shift slightly in my chair, my thighs and palms sweating because of how nervous I am. Nathaniel sits at the head of the table- opposite the projector screen. He sits calmly at a slight angle, his palms flat on the table top, his eyes calculating and eerily silent throughout the entire discussion except for the formal greetings and short small talk in the beginning. Dad sits on the other side of the table, directly across me. Although he isn't wearing his complete uniform for obvious reasons, he's pinned all the stars he received at various junctures during his service in the military on his jacket over the right breast.
"Davis, we do not have any physical evidence with respect to the presence of the drone yet. And I wonder if it was just some sparkling insect your daughter saw, because I trust our surveillance technology and not one of the patrol vehicles around the school reported anything suspicious." the defence secretary asserts grimly, his hands clasped on the table in front of him, "Can you vouch for the hearsay evidence you have provided based on her story."
"Yes sir," Dad gives a stiff nod, without a moment of hesitation which gives me a small boost of confidence, "She's in training right now and I trust her observations completely in this case."
"Trust?" the defence secretary scoffs, "Love doth make fools of us all. I need hard evidence here Davis, I do not give a damn about who you trust and who you do not."
"I second that," the secretary of finance nods in agreement, her brows arched frightfully, "This is a delicate case. We cannot risk probing into another sovereign state's affairs on a foolish whim. Under no circumstance can we have our trade relations getting affected."
Resisting the urge to counter their argument with a couple of solid pointers, I inhale slowly and deeply, clenching my left fist hard. It's difficult to sit there in silence as people I have always admired speak about me like I'm not even present. But Dad had given me clear instructions before the meeting to stay silent unless addressed directly no matter what.
