Chapter 9

Storm walked into the conference room, guarded by two soldiers. As he glided through the center of the room, delegates sitting around the table stood up to acknowledge him. He walked straight to his chair at the end of the table and settled in it. Everyone else did the same after him.

“Sir,” his secretary called, placing a file and a laptop in front of him. He accepted them, adjusted in his seat, placed his hand underneath his chin, and stared from one person to the other in the room.

“President Storm, you sent for us,” a man said, breaking the silence. He had burnt, orange skin, which appeared to be a result of being under harsh weather. He was one of the Egyptians sent to represent Egypt at the meeting. Storm wondered who he was. He did not have any special uniform on to detect who he was or what he did.

“Certainly, my good man. I had to send for you. I have sent countless warnings to your prime minister in the last 72 hours, but he is obstinate. Is his pride mor