Bordeaux, France
The voting had ended. The revolution had begun. Change had arrived. And under Bordeaux's starry night sky, hundreds of thousands of supporters had gathered. There, Amin arrived, an onyx Ermenegildo Zegna suit clinging well to his towering frame, his presence igniting cheers and applaud from the gathered crowd. At the Jardin botanique de Bordeaux, in his hometown of Bordeaux, Amin was set to deliver his victory speech, a moment to be viewed on television and the internet by millions of people around the globe. A no-fly zone was imposed over the area, with only police helicopters venturing the air.
A horde of police, army and Groupe de sécurité de la présidence de la République personnel had been deployed. The totality of the event cost the Karrit campaign a little over a million euros. It was a necessity however costly. Straightening his tie, his body language permeating the gestures of a strong leader, Amin strode to the podium, his magnetism and commanding presence piercing through the two inch thick bulletproof glass designed to shield him from any assassination attempts. The political climate in France had changed. The atmosphere was optimistic, there was a powerful sense of hope that the nation now had a skilled statesman as it's leader, someone to truly stamp the mark of France in the era of globalization.
But there was still opposition. There were those who did not wish to see France succeed on the global stage. Those that would dare use assassination as a tool to dispose of the president elect whose campaign narrative was one thing and one thing only, "France would not be France without greatness". Standing before the podium and the gathered crowd as the chosen son of the France Unity Party(FUP), a new party formed during his campaign, formed to support the policies of his coming administration, Amin kept a global posture. His features were held in earnest, his mystique and steeliness hanging thick in the air before a chorus of cheers and applause saw his face soften, and a warm smile spread across it. It seemed genuine, and it was convincing, socially personable. But it was an impostor smile.
The White Collar Cobra's mind, the totality of it was a subtly constructed reflex machine, born from an extreme version of psychopathy, and well adapted at mimicking the human condition to absolute perfection. His mind was a smooth operating psychic apparatus consistently reproducing specimens of appropriate reactions and emotions for specific moments. And here, it reproduced what seemed like genuine gratitude and emotion. Clearing his throat, Amin's lips neared the microphone. The crowd grew silent.
He spoke.
"I vow, in performing my duties as president of our great nation, to respect and protect human, mutant and civil rights and liberties. To observe and protect la Constitution française du 4 octobre 1958. To protect the sovereignty and independence, security and integrity of this nation, and to serve you, it's people, faithfully", he paused, allowing his promise to echo in the minds of those present, and of those watching at home. "There will be challenges to overcome. But we have the potential, the inborn quality to overcome them. Through the use of our exclusive economic area, the second largest in the world, we can truly return France to it's days of glory. But we will need much to accomplish this. A larger navy with better armed ships. A wide technological and military dominance is necessary".
"As is a number of diplomatic, economic and military successes. We must develop France's soft-power and monopolize something essential, achieved through breakthroughs in science, in the domains of space exploration and life expectancy. France must be made strong for it to become great. And as your president, it is my obligation to look after the state and faithfully serve it's people. And there is no greater resource for France than the aid and backing of it's citizens. So tonight I would like to thank you all for placing this great trust in me by electing me as your president", again he paused, his voice echoing with what sounded, by design, like genuine emotion. But there was none. Only mimicry.
"I promise to, in the coming years, work openly and honestly with the people of this nation. I will do all that is within my power to justify the trust and the hope that you have all placed in me. But I cannot bring forth this great era of French prosperity on my own. A dedicated and likeminded partner is key. And so tonight I reveal to you that I will be nominating renown French professor and political critic, Ada Guillaume as my Prime Minister. Together we will bring to life the return of French greatness. Thank you and goodnight". There was an uproar, of cheers, of applause, of questions from the media on his nomination of Ada Guillaume, but he simply waved, smiled, and took his leave.
There was work to be done.
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