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"What? WHAT? NO! FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU AND THE FUCKING HORSE YOU RODE IN ON!
DOWNTOWN IS NOT A WAR ZONE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW MANY CIVILIANS ARE IN THERE? THOSE ARE A LOT OF LIVES, AND I'M NOT LETTING YOU THROW THEM AWAY FOR THE SAKE OF YOUR LITTLE 'PLAN'."
Hazel was livid. She had gone from half asleep to fully awake the moment the implications of the plan being discussed sank into her dazed mind.
"This is a major population center, and I am NOT wrecking it just to preserve the element of surprise! I don't care if it's the Primeval Fucking Lion, I wouldn't care if it was fucking Leviathan himself!"
A small gasp erupted from the left side of the table, catching the attention of everyone in the office. A creature resembling a small glowing snake with a dragon's head, apologized softly, looking down. He started speaking to another one in soft humming tones. A third one glared at Hazel disapprovingly, prompting her to snort and roll her eyes at him.
"Don't look at me like that Cuauhtemoc. I don't care. It's a stupid plan and you know it."
"Hazel, the Tiānshàng's less than a week away. There's not much we can do."
Hazel snarled at her superior officer. "OH, I'M SORRY, I thought we were the International Draconis Corps. I thought we were Second and First Class. I thought we had Aras in the room here." She shot a pointed glare at the three figures, then. Trying to compose herself, she looked back at Brigadier Vaughn. "We are known for finding alternatives. It's what we do. We avoid conflict, and when we can't, we resolve it quickly, and efficiently, and with minimal loss of life. There has to be another way. I don't care if he knows I'm coming, I am telling people to evacuate or to stay indoors. I won't have innocent blood on my hands. Visiting next of kin is bad enough, I'm tired of this shit."
She looked desperately around the table, pleading silently for support, sympathy, something, anything, please don't make me do this.
"You can't be feeding your damn egos with souls. That's what you'e doing, and you're sinking down to his level, you're turning the whole area from Brickel to Wynwood into his altar, and sacrificing all the people in it to him. You're trying too hard to make a big damn show so everyone hails y'all as some damn tactical geniuses, but at what cost?? And who will be the bad guy? Who's face is going to be plastered on the news? ME."
Hazel sighed roughly and sat down. "I'm tired of this shit man. You guys need to re-evaluate your priorities. Sort yourselves out." She glared at the empty paper in front of her, where she was supposed to be writing notes. A hand fell on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. She looked up at Joel, her spotter. 'I've got you' He mouthed, and Hazel couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit better.
DOWNTOWN IS NOT A WAR ZONE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW MANY CIVILIANS ARE IN THERE? THOSE ARE A LOT OF LIVES, AND I'M NOT LETTING YOU THROW THEM AWAY FOR THE SAKE OF YOUR LITTLE 'PLAN'."
Hazel was livid. She had gone from half asleep to fully awake the moment the implications of the plan being discussed sank into her dazed mind.
"This is a major population center, and I am NOT wrecking it just to preserve the element of surprise! I don't care if it's the Primeval Fucking Lion, I wouldn't care if it was fucking Leviathan himself!"
A small gasp erupted from the left side of the table, catching the attention of everyone in the office. A creature resembling a small glowing snake with a dragon's head, apologized softly, looking down. He started speaking to another one in soft humming tones. A third one glared at Hazel disapprovingly, prompting her to snort and roll her eyes at him.
"Don't look at me like that Cuauhtemoc. I don't care. It's a stupid plan and you know it."
"Hazel, the Tiānshàng's less than a week away. There's not much we can do."
Hazel snarled at her superior officer. "OH, I'M SORRY, I thought we were the International Draconis Corps. I thought we were Second and First Class. I thought we had Aras in the room here." She shot a pointed glare at the three figures, then. Trying to compose herself, she looked back at Brigadier Vaughn. "We are known for finding alternatives. It's what we do. We avoid conflict, and when we can't, we resolve it quickly, and efficiently, and with minimal loss of life. There has to be another way. I don't care if he knows I'm coming, I am telling people to evacuate or to stay indoors. I won't have innocent blood on my hands. Visiting next of kin is bad enough, I'm tired of this shit."
She looked desperately around the table, pleading silently for support, sympathy, something, anything, please don't make me do this.
"You can't be feeding your damn egos with souls. That's what you'e doing, and you're sinking down to his level, you're turning the whole area from Brickel to Wynwood into his altar, and sacrificing all the people in it to him. You're trying too hard to make a big damn show so everyone hails y'all as some damn tactical geniuses, but at what cost?? And who will be the bad guy? Who's face is going to be plastered on the news? ME."
Hazel sighed roughly and sat down. "I'm tired of this shit man. You guys need to re-evaluate your priorities. Sort yourselves out." She glared at the empty paper in front of her, where she was supposed to be writing notes. A hand fell on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. She looked up at Joel, her spotter. 'I've got you' He mouthed, and Hazel couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit better.
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