Delving Into the Past: War.05.31.2006.

      I walk into the President's office with a stack of paperwork in my hands, as I've done many times this week. The Department of Foreign Affairs has been busy this month, especially since I was blessed with the honor of becoming the director after my predecessor died suddenly in a car accident in New York City three weeks ago.
      "What're we signin' today, Bruce?" asks the President.
      "Just a couple of documents finalizing my induction, Mr. President," I reply, "The rest are for the Vice President."
      The President nods, and examines his part of the stack. "You know," he says, raising an eyebrow but keeping his eyes on the document, "my secretary usually brings this sorta junk to me." I open my mouth to reply, but he continues, "You're worried about Carl," he says, looking up from his paperwork. I nod. "Have a seat," he says. I sit as he signs one of the documents.
      I am worried. Carl Beckham is our Vice President, and he has been in a hospital in Los Angeles for the past three weeks. In all honesty, I'm more worried about the island that appeared suddenly off the coast of California.
      "We've called it Atlantis, sir," I say, changing the subject. Something's bugging me today, and I don't feel like finding out exactly what right in front of the President.
      "What?" the President asks, not realizing right away that I'm talking about something else.
      "The island, Mr. President. We're calling it Atlantis."
      "Oh," he replies. The President doesn't like being confused; therefore I try to confuse him as much as possible. It makes me feel like I've accomplished something, given how dreary my job is. "Might as well," he says, "The media has been calling it that for days."
      "It's inhabited, sir," I say flatly.
      "What?" the President says, jumping to his feet. "You have proof?"
      I nod. The one item I hadn't given him yet was a manila envelope. I hand it to him, and he opens it a bit apprehensively. He pulls out several photographs of aerial images above the island, in which buildings and roads could clearly be seen. The President chokes and sits down as he views the final photograph: it depicts what appears to be an enormous military base, and the vehicles look vastly technologically superior to our own. "Satellite monitoring shows that these are not just ruins, Mr. President," I say, "They're really there."
      The President clears his throat and wipes away the sweat that's forming around his hairline with a handkerchief. "We should send an ambassador," he says.
      "I've started arrangements to go myself, sir," I reply. I need to get out of my office. I've been there a year, and when Kurt died, they just moved all the important crap to my office. Bastards.
      My thoughts are interrupted by the President's phone ringing. He pushes a button and leans forward. "Yes," he says, yet another confused look on his face. He must've seen my expression.
      "It's General Aimes, sir," the secretary's voice crackles, "He needs to speak with you."
      "Send him in," replies the President.
      General Aimes is a large man. He bends his head to get through the door. Yeah, he's big. He approaches the President's desk, stopping exactly two of his enormous strides away, and salutes his Commander-in-Chief. The President returns the salute and gestures for Aimes to sit.
      Several Secret Service agents file in. The Oval Office is a bit crowded now. "I'm sorry, Mr. President," says Aimes, "but we're here to transport you to a safer location."
      "Why?" I say, standing up, "What's happened?" The President nods as if to ask the same question.
      "The island has attacked," says Aimes, They've shot down one of our satellites with an unknown weapon."
      "Unknown?" the President asks, raising a brow.
      "Sir," I say before Aimes can say anything else, "I'm sure we'll be able to get the details at our destination. Right now, your safety is the most important to us." Aimes nods in agreement.
      "Very well," the President sighs, and exits the office behind two agents, followed by Aimes and myself, then the remaining agents.
      I know what's been bugging me all day.
      I'm pissed off.