Deal-breaker

                                    

                                          
The white house wasn't just Willie's home, it was his castle. The United States of America was a democracy, not a monarchy. He was a president, but he sure did feel like a king. When he woke up in the lavish room, he once shared with his wife, gratitude flooded him. The grass truly was greener on the other side, fertilized and mowed to perfection.   
Sure, his daughter could produce videos to give to the public, but who was the one in charge? There was a reason Willie was in the white house and where was Kiera? Harboring herself with a hardened group of criminals. He raised her better than that. 
He pushed thoughts of his daughter far from his mind. The bubbling anger he used to feel about the situation faded into a neutral disposition. He realized it the other day when he was rethinking back to Kiera's childhood. The suicide attempt when she was still in middle school stuck out like a sore thumb. 
His daughter wasn't in her right mind, she was mentally ill. Surely Stray Kids took advantage of this. She was naive and didn't understand right from wrong. She was a child in an adult's body and she didn't understand how the world worked around her. 
Willie let out a soft sigh as he secured his golden Rolex around his wrist. He ran the side of his thumb along the face of the watch to glance at the time. There were only five minutes left. Five minutes to leave his section of the white house and retreat to the oval office. 
He glanced in the mirror once again and adjusted his onyx tie. The stress of making decisions for the country began to take a toll on him. The pesky nuance of his wife's assassination and Kiera's desperate videos to destroy his reputation weren't helping. It piled and piled and piled up higher and higher. 
When he climbed into bed at night, he tossed and turned. The bags beneath his eyes grew darker and larger. Within the span of a few months, he seemed to age a decade. More strands of his coarse hair began to fade to gray. It bothered him until he realized it was a good look for him. 
Young people didn't have gray hair. He met his cold stare in the mirror. Gray hair meant wisdom. It meant he lived for years and years and years. He knew what he was doing. Time hardened him into the man he was today. At the end of the day, all he had was time. 
He readjusted the tie a final time, grabbed his disposable coffee cup, and headed in the direction of the oval office. His shoes echoed along empty tiled halls. Staff members disappeared at five and it was pushing seven now. They kept the halls of the white house sparkling. Large window panes were free of smudges and fingerprints. God, how he loved the white house. 
He turned the brass knob on the oval office door. Stepping into the oval office was stepping into history. Many presidents past made life altering decisions here for the United States. They signed bills into laws, gave direct military orders, and responded to threats and grievances from other countries. 
America was at the top of its game thanks to him. He was getting along well with other countries. In his first week, he was called and congratulated by multiple world leaders. Imports and exports were smooth sailing. The country was up and running as per usual. No terrorist attacks, no major man-made disasters, and no natural disasters either. The whole thing was glorious. 
If he could silence his daughter, all of his problems would be solved. With her out of the photo, people wouldn't be able to hear what she said. They wouldn't have anything to complain about and he'd be able to continue living his lavish presidential life in peace. Everyone knew his name. If someone didn't know, they must be living under a rock. 
A brisk knock at the door snapped Willie back into reality. He cleared his throat, "come in." The door opened to reveal a taller dark skinned man. He shut the door behind him and walked over to Willie's desk. Willie gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. "Please, go ahead and take a seat." 
The man nodded his head. His long hair sat in dreadlocks and spilt over his shoulders. A small section at his crown was pushed back and tied into a ponytail. His forehead and facial features were revealed. A black mustache and goatee were trimmed neatly. A discolored thin line curved across the side of his cheek; the remainder of an old scar he retrieved from childhood. 
Willie shifted in his plush chair to make himself comfortable. "You said you wanted to talk to me about something specific?" 
The man nodded, "you know my father." 
Willie stared at him with a blank look. "I know your father?" 
"Marvin Wilson." 
"Oh." Willie scanned the man's face. He could see it perfectly now. The two shared the same shade of dark eyes. The same steep point of their nose and the same sharp jawline. "I do know your father. I didn't know you worked here with him." 
The man nodded, "we don't tell people. Sometimes some of the other secret service members have issues with it. Favoritism and all of that," he waved his hand. 
"Well, what can I do for you then? If you want to know where your father is, I don't know. I talked to him two days ago and I haven't heard from him since. He wouldn't tell me where he was going before he left. When he arrived at his destination, he didn't tell me either." 
"Marvin is dead." The words spilled from the man's lips without a hint of hesitation. 
Willie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "excuse me?" 
"I'm here to make a deal with you." 
"A deal?" Willie echoed. The prick of a migraine began beneath his left eye. He reached up to rub the side of his head. "Let's take a step back for a moment. Who are you exactly?" 
"Lucas Wilson and Marvin was my father. I'm sure you're confused, but I'll tell you everything you need to know." He sat up a little more in his chair. "I'll give you information on Stray Kids if you agree to a deal." 
"You know Stray Kids?" Willie's eyes widened. 
"I don't know much about them, but I can tell you my father was trying to track down the truth and your daughter. I don't know a lot, but I believe what I do know can help you out." 
"What's your deal?" 
"I want to be appointed to the position my father held. I want to be the new director of the secret service team." 
Willie held up his hands, "hold on. What makes you think you deserve that position? You look a little young to be in such a high ranking title. After all, you'll be in charge of my safety." 
"I'm twenty-eight and I served in the military for four years. When I got out, I became a police officer and eventually I made my way here. I believe I have the skills for the job. I have multiple references who will back me up." 
Willie stared at Lucas in silence. There was a glint of determination in his eyes. Willie leaned over and wrapped his fingers around his coffee cup. "I'm not sure if I should trust you or not. We're both strangers to each other." 
"I know where Kiera is staying." 
Willie's head perked up, "and where might that be?" 
"I'm not an idiot. If I give you that information, there's no proof you'll hold up your part of the deal." 
Willie snickered, "smart move." He took a sip of his coffee. "So how will you get me to keep my side of the deal?" 
"I'll bring one of the Stray Kids members to you." 
"Really? Interesting." A grin crept up on Willie's face. "You tell me how your dad died, tell me what he was doing, bring me a member, and you have my word. I'll let you have your dad's position." 
Lucas nodded and began to explain the situation. Willie listened to him without interruption. He kept leisurely sipping his coffee. When Lucas was finished, he asked a few more questions. At the end of the hour-long meeting, Willie shook his hand to secure the deal. Lucas walked away with his head held high, a sense of achievement filled him. Willie pressed his lips together trying to hide his grin. 
If you had the right mindset, people were always disposable.