07-28-2013, 06:36 PM
Krasivolkya had been at work for two solid hours when her personal Secretary, the only other person to share her inner office, brought her the black leather portfolio with orange embossment on the cover.
All around her, Krasivolkya's staff were like bees in a hive. Her staff was by no means large, efficiency, after all was a virtue; but they were well trained and smart. She weeded out those that weren't first. Krasivolkya took pride, like that of a Commandant, at knowing her staff worked hard and could do their work with ease. She reveled in the fact that she had developed a team of people who could almost think like her, and thus could be used for any and all purposes and projects. Despite her cold demeanor, she trusted and respected these people who had gathered around her. Anyone of them could do any job presented to the office, regardless of experience or field of study.
However, she knew only SHE could and would do the jobs assigned in the black leather portfolio with the orange symbol embossed on it.
She parted the opening of the portfolio and relished in what was her favorite smell, that of tanned cow-hide leather. Nothing in the world smelled as good as new, unbroken leather, except perhaps for worn and supple leather of her father's books and manuscripts.
"Southern Siberia" suddenly flashed in her mind.
"That's odd," she thought, as she opened her eyes, "why would I be thinking of Southern Siberia?"
But in less than the next heartbeat she could have sworn she knew the cow, whose worked skin she was holding, was from Southern Siberia.
She took one more short breath and dismissed the random thought from her mind.
She pulled out a sheaf of paper, neatly organized and crisp to the touch. Behind the cover page, introductory letter, and bio, which she would read later, she found the Assignment memo.
To: Chief Liaison of the Custody of State
From: The Executive Office of The Ascendency
through the Custody of Defense Executive Privilege's Office
RE: The Facility
Assignment: Meet with Dr. Victoria Weston; Provide tour and
background of The Facility; Be available 24/7 for counsel and
staffing of Dr. Weston. Provide research and Executive
access as needed.
Report: Daily - To: Custody of State Executive Privelege AND
Custody of Defense Executive Privelege
Duration: INDEFINITE
"Damn! Mother Fucker!", Krasivolkya cursed under her breath.
She hated working with the Custody of Defense. Loathed it even. They were too structured or regimented in their approach. Her style was not as effective with military types. They were less intimidated and more used to strict superiors than civilians. It was somewhat of an insecurity that she saw them as a threat. An insecurity that would never leave her lips, be betrayed by her eyes or dwell in her mind. She dismissed the thought and set about re-reading the memo.
"I have to report DAILY to BOTH Executive Priveleges! Fuck me! I'll have to come in a full two hours early just to make up for the time I'll spend walking and waiting in both offices," she snapped.
Her secretary looked up at the expletives. She had been louder than she intended to be. Her secretary was used to the occasional curse word, so it wasn't a major breach, but she was mindful, nonetheless.
"Mrs. Florsheim," she said to the older lady. "I know you heard my comment. You know that means this is very important. Prepare the office for a visitor soon. A Dr. Victoria Weston will be coming to see me shortly, and apparently will be taking up a lot of my time for the foreseeable future. I will need you, Mrs. Florsheim to make sure everything runs smoothly in my absence. Is that understood?"
When the Secretary responded in the Affirmative, with a sense of what Krasivolkya could almost smell was pride, she then added, "Good. Now prepare me a briefing and save it to my drive on everything we have on The Facility."
"The Facility, ma'am?", Mrs. Florsheim asked.
"Mrs. Florsheim, I don't stutter and I don't repeat myself. You have work to do."
"And so do I," Krasivolkya thought as she got up from her desk and went to a small electric ice chest under her credenza. She pulled out a small tumbler and a bottle of Vodka, both nestled in the ice. She poured a generous, yet appropriate portion, then reached inside the credenza for a brown, wooden crock of Swiss Honey. She stirred in two drizzles, then mixed. As an afterthought, she grabbed a Pre-sliced lemon wedge from the ice chest. After all, it was ONLY a little after 6:30 in the morning, and she needed something nutritious for breakfast.
Edited by Krasivolkya, Jul 29 2013, 07:14 AM.
All around her, Krasivolkya's staff were like bees in a hive. Her staff was by no means large, efficiency, after all was a virtue; but they were well trained and smart. She weeded out those that weren't first. Krasivolkya took pride, like that of a Commandant, at knowing her staff worked hard and could do their work with ease. She reveled in the fact that she had developed a team of people who could almost think like her, and thus could be used for any and all purposes and projects. Despite her cold demeanor, she trusted and respected these people who had gathered around her. Anyone of them could do any job presented to the office, regardless of experience or field of study.
However, she knew only SHE could and would do the jobs assigned in the black leather portfolio with the orange symbol embossed on it.
She parted the opening of the portfolio and relished in what was her favorite smell, that of tanned cow-hide leather. Nothing in the world smelled as good as new, unbroken leather, except perhaps for worn and supple leather of her father's books and manuscripts.
"Southern Siberia" suddenly flashed in her mind.
"That's odd," she thought, as she opened her eyes, "why would I be thinking of Southern Siberia?"
But in less than the next heartbeat she could have sworn she knew the cow, whose worked skin she was holding, was from Southern Siberia.
She took one more short breath and dismissed the random thought from her mind.
She pulled out a sheaf of paper, neatly organized and crisp to the touch. Behind the cover page, introductory letter, and bio, which she would read later, she found the Assignment memo.
To: Chief Liaison of the Custody of State
From: The Executive Office of The Ascendency
through the Custody of Defense Executive Privilege's Office
RE: The Facility
Assignment: Meet with Dr. Victoria Weston; Provide tour and
background of The Facility; Be available 24/7 for counsel and
staffing of Dr. Weston. Provide research and Executive
access as needed.
Report: Daily - To: Custody of State Executive Privelege AND
Custody of Defense Executive Privelege
Duration: INDEFINITE
"Damn! Mother Fucker!", Krasivolkya cursed under her breath.
She hated working with the Custody of Defense. Loathed it even. They were too structured or regimented in their approach. Her style was not as effective with military types. They were less intimidated and more used to strict superiors than civilians. It was somewhat of an insecurity that she saw them as a threat. An insecurity that would never leave her lips, be betrayed by her eyes or dwell in her mind. She dismissed the thought and set about re-reading the memo.
"I have to report DAILY to BOTH Executive Priveleges! Fuck me! I'll have to come in a full two hours early just to make up for the time I'll spend walking and waiting in both offices," she snapped.
Her secretary looked up at the expletives. She had been louder than she intended to be. Her secretary was used to the occasional curse word, so it wasn't a major breach, but she was mindful, nonetheless.
"Mrs. Florsheim," she said to the older lady. "I know you heard my comment. You know that means this is very important. Prepare the office for a visitor soon. A Dr. Victoria Weston will be coming to see me shortly, and apparently will be taking up a lot of my time for the foreseeable future. I will need you, Mrs. Florsheim to make sure everything runs smoothly in my absence. Is that understood?"
When the Secretary responded in the Affirmative, with a sense of what Krasivolkya could almost smell was pride, she then added, "Good. Now prepare me a briefing and save it to my drive on everything we have on The Facility."
"The Facility, ma'am?", Mrs. Florsheim asked.
"Mrs. Florsheim, I don't stutter and I don't repeat myself. You have work to do."
"And so do I," Krasivolkya thought as she got up from her desk and went to a small electric ice chest under her credenza. She pulled out a small tumbler and a bottle of Vodka, both nestled in the ice. She poured a generous, yet appropriate portion, then reached inside the credenza for a brown, wooden crock of Swiss Honey. She stirred in two drizzles, then mixed. As an afterthought, she grabbed a Pre-sliced lemon wedge from the ice chest. After all, it was ONLY a little after 6:30 in the morning, and she needed something nutritious for breakfast.
Edited by Krasivolkya, Jul 29 2013, 07:14 AM.