Rogue Enforcer

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Pierre Renard stifled the familiar adrenaline rush of another world-shaping deal. Through eyes that had reflected steel blue radiance during his last check in a mirror, he watched the Argentine president pass before his nation’s blue and white standard and then stride across his office’s hardwood floor. As he circled the polished meeting table that filled his office, his would-be client stopped behind the white leather-padded armchair at the room’s opposite end and appeared to wrestle for his next thought.

Renard’s hunting snout sensed that the president’s bravado had yielded to edginess. Allowing his clever arguments in favor of bold military action to befuddle his victim, he salivated behind his vulpine fangs and perked his pointed fox ears to listen for an opportunity to pounce on his prey.

“I knew you would convince me this is the proper course of action,” the president said in English. “It’s what I want to do, and I knew it was the right path to follow ever since our first conversation about it. But now you must convince me it will work.”

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