While Jill had left the interview in good spirits, the more she thought about it the more perturbed she felt. Something about the tone of the questioning and the subject matter just didn't feel right. Why didn't they talk about politics? Why was there so much emphasis on all these random anecdotes about how Jill spent her free time back in Iowa? At a small town bar such inquiries took on a legendary status. Jill felt like the life of the party as she told them. But here, even Jill's best story about wrestling with a puma was just met with these unsettling, upturned lips. Only on one side. Was she being insulted?
Maybe it was just culture shock. Supposedly Huma Reid was the most well-known journalist in the country, not that this really meant anything with no national newspapers, or television, or Internet. It suddenly occurred to Jill that she would probably never actually see this interview, which only made the entire enterprise even more worrisome. Without a doubt, Jill had needed to do something to get the message out that she and the rest of the Hunter's Guild were peace-loving people. And yet...
Well, maybe Jill was worrying too much. It certainly didn't help that she was now nervous for a completely different reason. Here, in this entirely unremarkable meeting room in a particularly unremarkable building, she was pacing about anticipating her upcoming meeting with Barack Worthington, the leader of the Social Justice Army. Just as she had hit upon this thought, who should finally enter but the man himself?
"I'm sorry for the delay," he said, very politely. "It was much colder than I was expecting out there."
Barack Worthington looked surprisingly nondescript. Perhaps he was somewhat bigger and healthier looking than the typical passerby here in Chicago, but without more than a glance Barack Worthington could have been any random person that she may have met multiple times. Yet, Jill got the feeling that subtlety was not Barack's strong suit. Something about his very deliberate manner, for example, made her feel as if he was not late due to unexpected circumstances.
"So this is the woman who brought down the Chicago police," he said, holding out his hand. "I must confess, you're a little taller than I was expecting."
It was with a brief panic that Jill realized she was wearing heels. It was entirely a force of habit. Jill was naturally tall. But the heels were enough to make her taller than most men, and when dealing with new people, Jill found that the best way to make then treat her with respect was simply to force them to look up to her. Most of her formal clothes were intentionally designed to look combative for this purpose. Besides that wearing heels in public was excellent casual practice for balance. Why, without it, Jill never would have survived that encounter with the puma...did she remember to tell that part of the story to Huma...?
However, this was all irrelevant to the present situation. Barack Worthington was not a subordinate to be cowed into submission. He was, in theory, an equal on the other side of the negotiating table- one who was already predisposed to think the worst of her motives simply from an adversarial point of view.
"Are you all right?" he asked, hand still outstretched. "You look a little terrified. Do you want to sit down?"
"Yes, yes," Jill muttered nervously, wondering why she had agreed to this. Surely this was a task she could just delegate? Although admittedly, this was not the time for her to show favoritism, with the Hunter's Guild still reeling in shock from what they saw from the Chicago police and the death of so many members who had been Jill's opposition.
"Please forgive me," Jill said, firmly shaking his hand. "I've never done this kind of thing anymore, and I was just wondering if maybe I should have assigned someone else to the task."
"Now, now," said Barack, withdrawing his hand, taking his seat, and smiling. "I'm nervous too, hard though it may be to believe. I've never had to negotiate a cease fire before. There's never been any need. Normally, when my organization's problems escalate into military conflicts, we simply win. You have forced us into an unusual situation."
In spite of everything, Jill felt oddly flattered. Men did not usually compliment her combat abilities so directly, most likely because Jill's talent was so obvious they didn't think there was any need.
"Well I do what I can," she said, trying to suppress a blush. "You have no idea how hard it is, trying to run damage control over so many men."
"Yes," said Barack, nodding his head in agreement. "Especially when so many of them are former Nazis."
"I know what you mean," said Jill nodding. "But it's better now than it was before. Most of our casualties in the battle were former Nazis. It serves them right, for not following my orders. Still, any loss in manpower stings."
Barack just stared at her, blinking repeatedly. It took Jill a moment to realize that he had been attempting to get a rile out of her. Jill racked her mind trying to decide whether she had given the perfect possible or the worst possible response to that.
"Anyway I can assure you, Mr. Worthington," Jill said, doing her best to exude authority, "the remaining former Nazis under my command are very firmly under my control. The ones that didn't die did so because they followed my orders, or were so shockingly lucky in spite of disobeying them that they would never consider countermanding my authority again. The Hunter's Guild believes in forgiveness, not naivety, and we have no tolerance for openly bigoted remarks toward persons of color. After all, how could I possibly accept Nazis under my command when my own sister is a-"
"No, no, it's quite all right Miss Smith," said Barack Worthington, putting up his hands slightly, palms facing toward her. "I have a good eye for people, and I can tell that you are a good person. We have more in common than we want to let on."
From a sleazier man such a line would have come off as sultry and piggish. But Jill was sincerely impressed by the nobility of Barack Worthington's demeanor. It's not just that his delivery was perfectly smooth and unfettered. There was no aggressive body language, and no attempt to push the point. He just sat there, patiently waiting for Jill to respond. In an instant, Jill snapped back to reality.
"Well, this is our proposed agreement," she said, pushing the cease fire document forward. Jill felt that the draft was quite clumsy. It wasn't like anyone in the Hunter's Guild had any kind of experience writing legal documents. Just a few guys who were Perry Mason otakus was about as close as they could get. So her expectations were quite low as Barack Worthington started to carefully look through the pages. Out of sheer nervousness, Jill started talking again.
"We're trying to stay as close to the original intent of the law as possible," she explained. "The City of Chicago already has existing procedures to replace major public officials who have disappeared. And there are also laws in effect for impartial election observers. Excepting the fact that we're all armed, and probably can't trust each other to relinquish our firearms-"
"Oh, that's fine," Barack said, not taking his eyes of the document. "We're willing to give up our weapons even if you aren't."
"Really?" At this point Jill's whole demeanor lit up, and she started talking more quickly. "That's exactly what we were hoping for! Of course we also want to disarm, but surely, you understand the difficulty of our situation. We didn't want any of this. We're not even from Chicago, they just asked for our help, and no one thought anything that awful would happen but it did and really, we just want to go home, honestly we do, except that we're already so deeply involved and they don't want us to-"
"Yes, yes, Miss Smith, I get the idea," said Barack. He put down the written agreement. "Speaking on behalf of the Rainbow Shirts, I find your terms agreeable."
"What?" said Jill. "I mean, you don't even want to change a sentence or anything?"
"I dislike overly complex legal frameworks Miss Smith," said Barack, who was standing up to go. "We both know what the other is really after, so what's the point in debating the finer details, hm? Now as pleasant as this discussion has been I really do have other work to do. I'll just bring this to the proper subordinates in my organization and we can get started, yes?"
"Of course!" Jill said, just a little too enthusiastically. "I mean...yes, and thank you."
Barack Worthington gave Jill Smith a big smile as he exited. Jill Smith breathed a sigh of relief. Things were looking up!