“Today, I address not only my fellow Americans, but the entire globe,” he began, clearing his throat. “After the events earlier this week which struck almost every nation, the world needs answers. We deserve answers. I have spoken with our allies and other world leaders, and all have affirmed their commitment to order and justice for the global community. No nation which prides itself on the rule of law will tolerate such brazen violence on its streets. We are under no illusion. All of us are aware of past indiscretions and violent acts, not excluding the events known as The Worldwide Horror. Previously, we have tolerated such violence for the sake of maintaining peace and prosperity.”
The president paused while staring grimly into the camera.
“Our tolerance can only go so far,” he continued. “All peace-loving nations must now come together and present a united front against the terrorists who have instigated these heinous acts. In accordance with this, I and the other leaders of the G20 nations will be holding an emergency meeting tomorrow at 4:00 pm Eastern Standard Time in New York City. At this meeting, we will be studying the detailed reports of our intelligence agencies as well as discussing a collective plan of action. When we are done, we will reveal the identity of these terrorists, along with a plan to bring them to justice. Meanwhile, our competent military and local law enforcement will ensure security. I close my address by reassuring the world that lawlessness and unchecked violence will not be tolerated, nor will terrorism be permitted on our streets. On behalf of your leaders, I wish to assert our commitment to restoring order to our collective nations and the entire planet. And make no mistake; we will succeed in this endeavour. Thank you.”
The president finished his address by leaving the podium and escaping into the back room without acknowledging the press, whose questions had immediately exploded into a shouting frenzy.
Gerricks and Xavier looked at each other as though seeing someone come back from the dead, neither of them knowing what to say, before Gerricks picked up the phone and hurried to call Scheffler.
“What do you mean he’s not available to talk!?” screamed Scheffler, gripping the phone so tight he felt it bending beneath his fingers.
“Were my words not clear?” came Francois’ voice.
“Your words were clear, Francois. But they don’t make any sense! Didn’t you see the president’s address?”
“I did, and so did Kalakia.”
“So where the hell is he? We need to respond while we have the chance.”
“No,” said Francois firmly. “Kalakia’s instructions are to wait and do nothing. We’ll contact you soon.”
Scheffler was about to pop, unable to tolerate Francois’ condescending nonchalance a second further.
“This is total bullshit!” he yelled, thumping his finger on the phone multiple times in frustration before the connection finally closed.
What happened to the days when a person could slam a phone shut, he thought? He tossed the handset onto the desk and began huffing and pacing around the room. He could scarcely believe it. They were in deep shit, and Kalakia had his head in the sand. Those slimy bastards in their government buildings had to be shown who was boss! The League needed to start rolling heads immediately.
Scheffler stood biting his lower lip with his hands on his hips. He looked down at the desk and spotted his phone, feeling the urge to smash it to pieces. He clenched his hand into a fist and raised it, ready to slam it down like a hammer. Then he stopped, growing suddenly relaxed and lightheaded as a calming energy flowed through his body like a cool breeze. He put the ‘hammer’ away, letting his arm fall to his side. Taking his frustration out on his phone would do no good.
Chess was an enigma to Scheffler. On the one hand, he enjoyed the rush of being locked in a strategic battle. On the other hand, the complicated nature of the game frustrated him. Whenever he was outplayed or could see no direct path to victory, he would quickly lose his patience.
That same feeling was plaguing him again. How were they going to navigate this damn situation? The only person capable of playing the game on such a high level was Kalakia, and he was off somewhere shitting bricks. Scheffler exhaled slowly before looking down at the desk like it was a chessboard and tried to recall the basics. First, spread out and go after the centre squares. The League had done that, taking the battle public to the middle of every major city. Next, have no fear in exchanging piece for piece if it gets you ahead. The League had lost enough pawns last night, but were they now at an advantage? Not from where Scheffler was standing. Also, never leave your pawns isolated. When Scheffler sensed his men vulnerable to needless death, he pulled them out, saving them to fight another day. Even Kalakia approved of that move. To top it all off, The League’s ‘King’ now remained safe in his corner, out of sight, having ‘castled’ out of the way and allowing his opponent to destroy The Grand Luxus. It would be poetic indeed if Kalakia were actually laying low while waiting for the board to open up, where he could finally make his decisive strike.
Wait a minute. Scheffler’s breathing stopped as his consciousness expanded, gifting him the insight to see it all. His head suddenly dropped.
“Son of a bitch,” he said.
It all made sense. How had he missed it? He began shaking his head, stunned but also furious. Kalakia had been playing multiple moves ahead the whole time. The Five Eyes list, sending the volatile Abel after Drexler, the worldwide counter-attack. Kalakia knew precisely what he was doing. He had used turmoil as his chessboard, and now the pieces were perfectly set. To top
