The space was large, wood panelled, with two large oak desks on either side. Sitting at them were administrative assistants. Right behind those desks were doors, which he assumed led to individual offices. Dead ahead there were two massive oak doors, with flags that did not fly over the land he grew up in. I left the country?
“They are ready for him,” a young man with a military bearing said, in accented English. It sounds French, but not from France or her former African colonies.
With the press of a button the two large doors opened, showing a large conference room. Inside there were three waiting. Brutus must have gotten impatient, because he nudged him forward towards the door. Fortunately, they stopped at the threshold and stayed off to the side as though he was a security risk. Who needs enemies when you have allies like this?
Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.
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