K I N G S G L A I V E June 26th A l g a r e t h
"Were they notified?" The older man asked, still gazing through the top floor window. He adjusted a small golden cufflink over and over again in what appeared to some sort of nervous tick as the sun set over the cityscape of Algareth. The man was clearly in his fifties or sixties as indicated by the crows feet extending from narrow, calculating hazel eyes, but his light olive skin contradicted the notion of old age with its smoothness and glaring absence of any wrinkles; a head of short, neatly cut, salt and pepper hair supported this contradiction as well. He caught a glimpse of himself in the pristine window pane and dropped his hands to let them rest in pockets. The dark suit he wore - three piece, with a matching color vest underneath the blazer and a white collared shirt under the vest - fit perfectly as any tailor-made formal attire should and in doing so accentuated broad shoulders and a medium build. This was a man fit for the position he held and he knew as much.
"Yes, Mr. President. They were notified," The younger man replied with an almost robotic, obligatory tone tinging his voice. The younger man stood some distance away from the president, two couches facing each other and a coffee table in the middle sitting between him and the most important person in Algareth. He stood with his hands behind his back and his legs completely straight and together as he awaited acknowledgement from his superior. He was much younger in the face than the president with bigger more ambitious brown eyes, fair skin, and professionally styled brown hair. The suit he wore - only two piece - was black and slim with a maroon collared shirt under the buttoned blazer and also tailor-made to fit perfectly. His build was smaller than the older man's though he was taller than him by a few inches. He adjusted his slender-rimmed glasses just as a strongly exaggerated sigh echoed in front of him.
"Christ, Cyrus, you could at least pretend that we've known each other for years," The president said, finally turning from the window.
Cyrus chuckled and unclasped his hands. "It's a habit, sir. What do you think people would say if I accidently addressed you as Julius?"
"They would think you're actually capable of independent thought, for one," Julius flashed a grin and made his way back over to the large, oval shaped desk in front of the room-length window and took his seat. Cyrus smirked and followed before stopping on the other side of the desk and ignoring the two chairs on either side of him. "Good lord, take a seat at least. You're too uptight, shit." Cyrus seemed to think for a moment then reluctantly sat down in one of the chairs. Julius shook his head and opened a manila folder that had been silently waiting on the desk. The smile disappeared from his face as his eyes scanned over the content.
"Everything is in place, don't worry. It's true that we're going to meet the Queen of Ivalice on her own turf, but we've taken every measure and have accounted for every scenario. The Royal Guard will not fail to protect you, sir," Cyrus said, suddenly serious once more.
"I know that already. I'm not worried about you or the Royal Guard or any security measures. You know damn well what I'm worried about."
"I suppose I do, sir. You're worried about
them, am I right?"
"Yes. It's the only thing
to be worried about. If they fail, you understand the consequences?"
"Every scenario, sir,"
"What?"
"We've accounted for
every scenario."
Julius let an exhale escape as he rubbed his forehead. He closed the folder and leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the ceiling and ceiling fan which was not spinning at the moment. "I'd almost forgotten... I don't want it to have to come that, Cyrus. It can't."
Cyrus stood and adjusted his blazer and glasses. "I hope it doesn't have to, Mr. President," he replied and with that, the vice president, and Julius's unofficial adviser, turned and made his way toward the double doors. He stopped in front of them briefly and glanced his shoulder almost meaning to say one more thing. Thinking better of it, the doors opened and he exited leaving Julius in the top floor office alone with nothing but his thoughts and the men posted just outside the doors. He turned in his chair and faced the window pane once more. The city really was a beautiful sight during sunset.
----------
June 27th, 3:00 PM, The Safehouse
----------
"Just what kind of fuckery is this?!" Nero almost shouted in disbelief. Two large men pushed the smaller man out the door and onto the bustling sidewalk. Nero stumbled backwards, but managed to keep his footing. He sucked his teeth and brandished a crushed cigarette box that somehow still held two cancer sticks. He lit one just as the manager of the establishment he was just thrown out of came storming through the two large security guards. "That shit said all you can eat man, you can't deny me the damn pizza," Nero nonchalantly stated as he took a puff.
"
Kids, it said kids all you can eat!" The short, rotund manager fired back.
"Yeah yeah, semantics. We're all kids at heart, right?"
"The hell does that have to do with eating other people's food as well?!"
"You know there's kids dying of starvation in Africa, right?"
"What the hell's an Africa?!"
"Shit, that was actually in a book I read,"
"Stop this nonsense! I better not see your face again!" The manager flipped up his middle finger and stormed back followed by his hulking security guards. Nero chuckled and took another puff as he turned down the sidewalk and made his way to a parking lot towards a black sports sedan. He checked his watch briefly before hurriedly pulling his phone from a jean pocket. His face suddenly became serious as he stared at the screen.
"Crap, I'm late... " He muttered to himself. It was a short drive mostly due to obvious and highly dangerous speeding, but the sedan pulled into a parking garage and slowly crept through the mostly empty structure before pulling into a lone parking spot. Nero quickly got out and made a beeline for an elevator door that was only accompanied by a blank pad in lieu of any buttons. He placed his hand on the pad and it came to life with an LED hue and a multitude of rapid-fire pricks to the palm. The pad flashed green and a lock released allowing the door to slide open and its waiting occupant to enter. There was only one button on the wall inside and once pressed, the door closed and locked and a short descent later, Nero stepped out into a large, square room that split into different hallways on each wall.
The immense space held large rectangular table in the center with chairs all around it as well as lockers on opposite walls. Pulling out his phone again, Nero once more read over the message he, and no doubt the rest of the members, had received:
This is Vice President Cyrus Alistair, representing the wishes and intentions of President Julius Cid. As you all are aware, the time for peace negotiations with the kingdom of Ivalice is rapidly approaching. As discussed, the Royal Guard will accompany myself, The President, and some of his personal cabinet as we venture to meet the Queen. However, the executive order has been given and the Kingsglaive have been activated for this meeting as well. We will be sending your unit to Ivalice ahead of us with a crucial objective. Both the President and myself feel that this may very well turn out to be some sort of setup and we cannot take any chances. We need the Kingsglaive to infiltrate the Palace of Ivalice and look for any evidence of any negative actions planned against Algareth or the President during this meeting. You are not be seen and you are not to use any magic as no one can ever know you were there. If you fail, your infiltration would be seen as an act of war against Ivalice by Algareth and we cannot afford for our political rivals to have that kind of leverage over us. Meet at the Safehouse and prepare for immediate departure. A car will take you to an airship in one hour. Nero sighed and approached a locker on the wall. His uniform was hung neatly inside and he gazed at it for a moment. It had been half a year since the last operation, but the Kingsglaive were being assembled once more. He knew the others would be arriving shortly.
