"Tell me, how good do you think you are at warfare?"

"Warfare," I repeated as a grin came on my face. "I've had some experience."

"Experience?" Michael asked with confusion.

"One question for you," I stated. "Where is Andres?"

"Your friend?" He asked seeking clarification.

"No, it's a random dude," I deadpanned.

Michael took an extended breath in. "He's still sedated at a hospital."

At that moment, it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulder. I saw Michael's eyes gaze upon me and pick up on the change in my body language.

"So you were saying you had experience?" He asked, changing the topic. I let out a small breath of relief, thankful that we had avoided an awkward talk.

"You don't make billions of dollars without being in bed with the government," I explained. "At the core, my parent's company is a logistics consulting company. As such, several government agencies needed our help, connections, strategies, etc., including the NSA and the military."

"And exactly what did you do for them?"

My face darkened as I recalled my experience helping the military. "I 'consulted' on a military operation to take down some terrorists," I said with air quotes.

He stayed silent before speaking. "Well, I suppose that's well enough. I need your help with something a bit different."

My eyes gained a glint as he uttered his sentence. It sounded like the beginning of a game. If Michael couldn't solve it, I knew that it would be difficult. Impossible even. And war? That just made it more fun!

"Do you know of the war in Atlantis?" He asked in a solemn tone.

"There were some whispers here and there, but they were all conflicting accounts," I answered.

He straightened his back and took a breath getting ready for the explanation. "A fascist in Spain rose to power around twenty years ago. He tried to attack France and use it as a gateway to attack the other nations. The assault lasted for three years before finally ending when we finally joined."

"So World War I," I summarized. He nodded his head before continuing with his story.

"You can probably guess what happened next," He said. "The other countries demanded reparations and practically forced Spain to sign. Their economy was falling rapidly and another madman started to gain popularity. He wanted to end the reparations and thought that conquering other countries would be the best way."

"I'm assuming at first, you tried appeasement which failed. Then he took bigger and bigger steps until he finally just said fuck it and invaded another country." I said with a dry laugh.

"Unfortunately so," He answered as he ran his hand through the top of his leg. "He's been successful in his pursuit. England is the last country that hasn't fallen yet."

"Let me guess, your geography makes it hard to attack you directly so they're preparing for an all-out assault. You're forced on the defensive, but that's a losing battle."

Michael began to move the chair closer to me with his feet without leaving it. "You're the only person I know who can get us out of this situation. I can't see a solution to this."

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

I closed my eyes to picture everything that he was telling me. I stored all the details in my mind as it began to work like crazy figuring out a solution. This process started automatically. Even I didn't know that it had started.

"I know we're friends Michael," I began. "But pray tell why I should help you?"

"Pardon?" He asked as he tilted.

"Three reasons," I declared as I brought my hand up and lifted one finger. "One: I'm helping the country that tortured me."

"I thought you said you were over it!" Michael exclaimed.

"No, I said I wouldn't hold it against you. I'm holding it against your country," I corrected.

Michael sighed as he took out a phone and flipped it over to me. It showed the familiar soldier sitting in a jail cell, looking up at the roof. "You can do whatever you'd like if you agree to help."

I watched with both rage and anticipation. My mind raced with ideas.

After a few moments, I inwardly smirked before lifting up another finger and speaking again. "Two: I'm risking my life doing this. I still haven't fulfilled my goals, so I'm not dying before that happens."

I lifted up the third finger. "Three: Even if I do all this, I gain nothing out of all of this. I'm taking an unnecessary risk and my efforts won't be rewarded and I'll be months off my timetable."

Michael chuckled as he shook his head. "So that's what you really want. You want to profit off of this."

I smirked. He knew my goal. "Quid pro quo my friend."

"What do you want?"

"It's pretty simple actually," I stated. "I want to be able to export goods from Atlantis."

"That'll violate our policy of not trading with the outside world," Michael countered.

"You're not Wakanda," I said with a small laugh. "You don't trade with the outside world because you want an edge when it comes to technology. Well, I'm a few years away from being able to mass-produce it myself. If you agree, then you can profit massively and your economy will boom. It's a win-win."

Michael thought about it for minutes. In those minutes was a silence that resembled a forest. I was dominant, the prey, as I had what he wanted. He was the prey, and I was eating him for my own benefit.

"I'll have to speak to Parliament," He told me.

"Sure thing, I'll help you out in a year when they finally make their decision," I told him with a smirk. "Or never when they don't do it."

"I don't know what you want me to tell you." Michael's voice was filled with frustration. He realized the predicament he was left in and just how hopeless it was for him.

"Lucky for you, I have a solution," I said, immediately drawing his attention. He slightly tilted his head so his ear was facing closer to me.

"I'm going to establish the West Winds Company. On all official documents state that the operation was decisively led and planned by it. Release a few redacted versions keeping the name, and the public will feel indebted."

"The politicians will agree to the plan as it boosts their image in the eyes of the people," Michael continued. "And you profit hundreds of billions."

I clicked my tongue. "Consider it compensation or my fee."

Michael's eyes moved back and forth deep in thought. He was weighing the pros and cons, thinking of any ramifications. Yet he couldn't find any. "West Winds. Zephyr means western winds in Greek," He commented.

Finally, he nodded his head as he ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his forehead. "I agree to your terms."

"Actually, one last tiny detail," I said.

"What now?" Michael asked irritably.

"It's actually simple. You'll do exactly what I say," I said. The playful expression was replaced with a serious one, and I stared at him almost as if to penetrate his soul. "The NSA and military didn't, and it ended with the lives of 13 agents lost."

Michael flinched back before speaking. "I can live with that."

I turned to the corner of the room and noticed a camera. I stared at it while smiling and waving my hand. "Are you watching Nacio? If so, a pleasure to be working for you."

My face became playful again as the conversation became less serious. "I have to hand it to you, you played this perfectly. Hooking me in with warfare and presenting it as an impossible puzzle. It's what I would've done."

"Great minds think alike mate," He said. "And there is a reason why you were friends with me."

I looked at him with the same eyes as when I had first found interest in him. "So, how bad is the situation?"

Michael looked solemn as he spoke. "It's like hell. We're living on borrowed time."

"How much longer do you estimate is left in the war?" I asked.

"Around six months. Eight if we're lucky." His voice was grim leaving no room for even the tiniest trace of happiness.

"That bad huh?" I said. Upon fishing my thoughts, I chuckled as the final pieces of my plan fell into place. I had done it. I had figured out the solution to the impossible. "Well, lucky for you, I've come up with a solution."

"Already?" Michael asked with a small smile. Finally, he saw some sort of hope from his impending doom. "That's the Zack that I remember."

I returned the smile. "One small hag, we either succeed together, or we die together."