Chapter Text
„Are you sure it's the girl?“, Brenner said, his hands gripping the edge of the table tightly.
„Yes, Mr President. The photos and reports leave no doubt, it has to be her.“
Slowly, Brenner looks up, his eyes locking onto the man before him. He would like to have him taken away, but the poor guy is only the messenger after all.
„And where is she now, Antonov?“
The other man flinched slightly, barely visible to the eye. But Brenner noticed. He always noticed.
„District 12, Mr President. For five years now, if I’m not mistaken.“
When Brenner slammed his fist onto the cold stone, the sound echoed through the empty halls.
„And how“, he said, gritting his teeth „is it possible that she lived there for half a decade without anyone noticing?“
„I do not know, sir. She was presumed dead after her release into-“
„I know!“, Brenner snapped. „Of course I know that, Antonov, I was there.“
The man gulped, his expression staying neutral.
„I apologise. I only intended to state the facts, Mr President.“
Brenner sighed in exhaustion. Who would have thought being President would be this tiring. But it was no wonder really, when all the employees were nearsighted, lazy pawns. He would have to find a solution alone, just like always.
„We need to get rid of the girl. She can not continue her life in the district.“
Antonov gritted his teeth, hands clasped behind his back.
„What do you suggest, Mr President? Should we inform the Peacekeepers?“
„We are not going to do anything, Antonov. But I have a plan.“
„Of course you do, Mr President. Your mind knows no bounds-“
„I know! I know. Listen carefully, now. I need you to execute these orders precisely.“
Mere minutes later, Dmitri Antonov left the palace, a list of orders and preparations saved in his memory. Everything would have to go down exactly as planned.
Inside the building, Brenner sat in a pompous armchair, the fireplace burning and sizzling in front of him. With an unreadable expression he looked down at the file in his hands.
„You should have run, child, while you still could. Now you have left me no choice.“
With one swift motion, Brenner threw the file into the fire, before standing up. He began to walk out of the dimly lit room, his steps echoing through the hollow building. The paper burned and crumpled, only the title was still intact. Thick, bold letters. Three numbers.
Project 011