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- I'm a Prime, I do not take orders from you!
Sentinel sounded annoyed.
Bumblebee, Ratchet, even the weapon specialist Ironhide hastily left the largest hangar at the Chicago NEST headquarters, smelling the smell of burnt tires. Only Optimus remained, trying to reason with both sides. But Sentinel had already turned away, announcing that the conversation was over, and Charlotte Mearing, with her arms crossed over her chest, looked significantly at Optimus, pushing her glasses on the bridge of her nose.
She was standing on a platform fixed almost under the ceiling, which allowed her to be on the same level with both Primes and look these creatures right into their optical sensors. Into their shameless eyes.
- I suppose this conversation won't be the last, - she turned to Optimus, because now only the rumble of retreating footsteps reminded of Sentinel.
This time, Optimus chose to look away.
She decided to continue the conversation that evening. This time Sentinel was alone. He unfolded a large-scale three-dimensional map in the hangar and was studying it carefully. When Mearing entered the hall, the shimmering blue canvas rolled up, and Sentinel, not hiding his displeasure, looked at the director of National Intelligence. Charlotte came alone, the sound of her heels echoing through the huge room. She decided it was better to talk face-to-face with this Prime.
- Shall we continue? – having risen to the platform, Mearing put both her hands on the metal handrail and was about to say something when Sentinel interrupted her.
- What does he find in you?
- Who? - Charlotte frowned slightly.
- Optimus. His liberal views rarely justify themselves. But what is happening here is beyond my comprehension. Come on, - he lightly slapped the handrail with his palm, and it vibrated, - let me examine you.
- Aren't you allowing yourself too much?
- Prime is not asked such questions! Spin around, at least I can get a better look at you. So far, I don't see any advantages that would make me want to continue the dialogue. Show me what you earthly femmes are trying to captivate us with. I have heard some of the stories from my subordinates.
Mearing always had enough self-control, but Sentinel's appraising and tactless look reminded her of the very first steps of her career ladder. Then it was impossible to take a step without getting into chauvinist shit. Men. Earthly men. And here he is, a representative of an alien race – and also a sexist.
- I'll come back when you're a little wiser!
She adjusted the collar of her jacket and descended from the platform. Already at the exit, she heard Sentinel's last remark.
*
- Ma'am...
- I already told you – stop with the “Ma'am”!
- Is something wrong?
Mearing`s secretary, a nervous girl in a blue suit, froze in the doorway, trying to figure out what could have happened to her Iron Lady in just twenty minutes.
- Absolutely nothing!
Charlotte, sitting in an armchair in her office, took off her glasses and threw them on a table littered with papers. She exhaled noisily.
- Do you have any idea what he said to me?
- No way, Ma...
Mearing shifted her gaze to the girl. She imagined the dismissal order.
- That when I'm angry, I have such beautiful eyes!
Charlotte leaned back in her armchair. Her eyes - whatever they were - flashed fire.
The assistant carefully took hold of the door handle and literally leaked into the safe corridor. Once outside the combat zone, she thought it had been a long time since she had seen Mearing so furious and... attractive.
The girl giggled into her fist.