Switzerland.
Home to the world's greatest chocolate and some of the most beautiful mountain peaks.
The politician thought. He makes a mental note to come back during winter on unofficial business.
Right now though he was on official business.
He looks at his watch and reads it: 1200hrs.
Great. Now he had to wait 10 hours. As much as he would enjoy relaxing in a beautiful hotel... You know what, He thinks he needs some good old-fashioned him-time.
He is led to a rental BMW car, away from the paparazzi and they drive off.
At the hotel, the bodyguard checks him in and asks for total privacy. Nobody, and I mean nobody needed to know he was in Switzerland. That would raise questions and questions are not good.
He plops down on the bed and switches on the tv.
"Rogers, bring me that appointment paper again."
The bodyguard, Rogers, hands it over to him so that he can quickly skim through it:
Seller: The Confederation
Location: Switzerland
Venue: Chateau de Chillon, Montreax
Time: 2200hrs
He was referred to The Confederation by a friend, whose name he didn't even care to remember, and he thought about the idea for a long time. He realized that the shipment he was getting was not useful anymore, and people were starting to notice. Everything he said came from what he took.
He needed to win these elections.
So when his friend told him that The Confederation gave the best shipment, he decided that it was worth a try.
He gives the folder back to Rogers, who walks away immediately, and taking position by the window.
Just as he was about to lull himself into dreamland, a knock sounded. Guns cocked and were aimed at the door. Rogers holds his hand up to signal the others to hold fire. He peeps through the peephole.
"Hello? Housekeeping."
The politician signals for the guards to stand down and let the maid in. As commanded, Rogers opens the door to let a petite, tall lady with red hair and black lipstick. She was pretty, no doubt.
The politician smirks as a sinister thought came to his mind. He stands up slowly and undoes his tie. The maid watches him at the corner of her eye as she replaces the bathroom supplies. The man comes up behind her and takes a whiff of her perfume.
She turns around and pushes him back.
"Excuse me. I'm almost done."
The politician loved the challenge, so he pins her to the wall. He lets his lips skim her neck, up the side of her face.
"L... Let me go!"
He laughs a cynical laugh and holds both her hands with one of his, allowing his other to roam all over her body.
"Let's not be too naughty now. But I love a feisty one like yourself."
"What kind of politician are you?"
"Ah! So you know me?"
"What sick-twisted person doesn't know a manwhore like you."
He laughs and presses himself to her against the wall.
"A big mouth too. On your knees baby."
"I'm not going to."
"And why's that?"
Before anyone could process anything, she pulls out a gun from her apron and aims it at his chest. Rogers and his team aim their guns at her not more than a second later.
"Ok. Fun's over sweetcheeks. Put the gun down."
"No."
"Are you trying to get yourself killed? Come on, just put it down."
"I'm doing this for my country and all its inhabitants."
It wasn't until then that the politician notices her American accent. She had tears running down her cheeks, which were a rosy pink. Her hand trembles slightly, but not enough for her grip to lessen on the gun, or her aim to be faltered.
"There's no way in hell America is going to vote you in. You're a sick man. You don't deserve the post."
"Oh yeah? What makes you say that dollface?"
"Because I already know what it feels to live under your rule."
"Expound."
"My..."
Her voice falters as more tears cascade down her cheeks, but her grip remains firm and her aim directly at his chest.
"My girlfriend was killed by your stupid cops. Just because of your fucked up remarks about the LGBT community."
"So you are one of them?"
"We are humans you fucking homophobe! You have no right at all!"
"I can't believe I almost fucked you. I feel so disgusted."
Anger raidiated off the maid and she couldn't take it anymore. She knew this was a suicide mission but she had it all planned out. She loved her girlfriend, Christina, and one day she went back to their apartment and found her beaten to death. The camera footage showed it was Trump's troops. She didn't think twice, but her vision became blurry. She could only see Christina's disfigured face covered in blood, her last words: "I love you babe. Get him."
She fired the gun, and fell down to the floor as a dozen bullets flew her way. The politician let out a grunt and collapsed on the floor. She shot him in the arm, right next to his shoulder.
One of Rogers' men went to call his personal doctor. As he was being patched up and a sling to support his hand, he looked at the tear-streaked face of the lady, who was not more than 25 years of age.
The only thing he thought, was that he had just lost one vote. Well two, if you count her disgusting girlfriend.
* * *
At exactly 2145hrs, the politician arrives at the venue of contact in his black car. He wore a black suit with a grey button-up shirt. They wait in the car as the lights inside the Chateau de Chillon go off.
After ten minutes, a three-car convey of black Sedans rolls into the alley besides the building. Rogers sits up straight. A man in all black comes back round the corner, looks around nonchalantly, then motions the car over.
Rogers drives slowly and without lights, taking the corner. He passes through the fence, which surprisingly was a gate, and parks close to the convey. The fence is closed, and all three Sedans -parked in a circle facing each other- flash their lights on the black Range.
The politician steps out of the car, Rogers in tow and an AK-47 in his hand.
A tall broad man with a black beanie and black shades, dressed in a black sweat suit walks towards him with a deceiving smile.
"Trump, buddy. This is a friendly deal. No big toys."
The politician looks at Rogers and motions him to take it back to the car. When he comes back, the two clients are patted down by two men from the organization. Once signaled as clear, the man takes off his shades.
"For the record, I'm not a big fan of your work."
The politician notices the man's stance and posture. His broad arms are folded over his chest and his brown eyes reveal hatred. He looks around and notices all the other men standing at ease with their hands behind their backs and no emotion in their eyes. He looks back at the Head and bows slightly.
"I understand that."
"Good."
The head snaps his fingers and two men move besides him with a crate between them. A lady walks up to the crate and opens up the crate to reveal its the contents.
The politician did a double take towards the women, then looks at the crate. The white powdery substance was clean and packaged professionally. Unconsciously, the politician moves his hand to touch the pack, but his hand is slapped away by the woman and the crate closed immediately causing him to flinch.
"Ah ah ah Trump. You've seen the package. Time to pay up. You know the rules."
The politician nods and steps back. He motions for Rogers to hand over the briefcase. The Head raises an eyebrow as one of his men takes the case and clicks it open to reveal the stacks of hundred dollar bills. The head takes one note out and squats next to the headlight of one Sedan.
He stands up with a smirk and puts it in the case and closes it. He looks at the woman and gives a small nod. He looks back at the politician with the same cynical smile as before.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Trump."
The crate is given to Rogers and the two head back to their car. As Rogers starts to back up, the politician looks back at the the Head and the lady still standing there. He sees the Head circling a handgun round his two fingers and the lady looking at him with pure venom.
He thanks God he was in the car and they drive off. Besides, he had a flight to catch at 0100hrs.
Christian continues to circle the gun even as the black Range leaves the secret meeting point. Jay looks away from the fence as the car disappears.
"That must have been so hard for you Christian. I'm sorry."
Christian finally puts the gun in his pocket and takes a deep breathe, releasing it slowly. He looks at Jay with only one emotion: sadness.
"I support my son 100%. This man opposes him and I hate that. Besides, he reeks of murder."
Jay smiles and they head back to the Sedans, heading to the hotel to the boys who just happened to have passed out on the floor or as they called it 'their empire'.
=•=°=•=
Hello loves!
Thank you so much for 1.15k reads. It means a lot.
I just launched my dance career on my Instagram @Styles_Dance. I will be opening up a Youtube page in December so please support.
I feel like I have a right to rant about Donald Trump. But I captured my major aspects with the assasin and Christian. It bugs the hell out of me that he says things about the citizens he's supposed to govern and he can't be arrested. I'm American but black American and I have no idea whether I will be deported back to my parents country in Africa. I feel like he's ruining my chances of prospering in life and I'm not ashamed to say that I will NOT vote for him. Especially if he keeps degrading women. Who on earth says that Obama is the founder of ISIS?? Is this guy on steroids...
Whew. Ok. I'm calm. Anyway, this is my last semester in highschool, so no updates till December. Thank you so much for support. Love you all.
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-StylesNation