Red Tide was an utter failure. Yet, Mr. O insisted that the operation still be referred to as that within OCorp
“It has a nice ring to it,” he stated.
And now, Mark was in his office, looking out the window at nothing in particular. For the past month, he’s been working tirelessly to ensure that Project Manticore was in shipshape condition. Yet inside he knew that a whole host of failures would come. His hunch was proved when he received the news of Red Tide.
The Fusean country known as Universalist qatar had cut all ties with Yugobatania, and had come forward in that they were harboring a virus. Thankfully, no one had looked to the west at Yugobatania. Those who did were just as confused as the others who bothered to look.
Mark was quite unsure with himself. On one hand, if he were to release Manticore, then he could quickly wipe out the opposition, without sacrificing a single soul. Well, except the ones who catch the virus, of course.
Yet on the other, he had fears of becoming like Solomon - complete collapse of leadership, and humiliation to national pride. But time after time, Mark has reassured himself that such a thing would never happen. Hopefully. Mark O had lost track of the time, as the sun was setting already. He had paced his office, sat down, and drank lots of alcohol. The perfect remedy for hard times. Finally, Mark had thought out a plan. He sat down on his chair, and pressed a ringer on his desk.
“Yes Mr. O?” said the female voice of his secretary.
“Bring up Clementine please,” he replied.
“Yes Mr. O.”
His secretary hung up, and about half and hour later, a knock on the door came.
“Come in,” Mark said aloud.
The door opened, and in came a man dressed in casual clothing, with a weary look, and a jaunty looking beard.
“Ah, Clementine, how good to see you!” Mark said, with a tad bit of boredom. He had been waiting for him to get from R&D for a while, and Clementine was a slow walker.
“Don’t call me Clementine. And what do you need now Mark?” said Clementine.
You see, Clementine was a feminine name, as his parents thought they were going to have a girl, thus prematurely naming their child before learning its gender. And so, Clementine has hated his name ever since, and preferred to be called by his middle name, Robert. Which no one ever did.
“How so?” asked Clementine - er - Robert.
A tremendous smile grew on Mark O’s face.
“Let’s just say that we’re gonna leave a gift on the doorsteps of some our most beloved friends and family...”
Clemen - er - Robert - wasn’t liking where this was going. Not one bit. But alas, it was just another day at OCorp.