“Thank you.”
“Provided all goes according to plan, we intend for you to become a member of the core Protectorate team within the span of three to five years. Making your face national, even international, if you are willing.”
Sounds like a decent plan.
“Wow. Yeah, I’m definitely okay with that, ma’am,” he tried to feign surprise. Armstrong had already covered much of this.
“Of course, this hinges on your ability to lead your team, in the here and now.”
‘course. It’s not enough to just be likable.
“Of course.”
“It seems we will land shortly. Any questions before we do?”
“One. I was hoping to arrange interstate training sessions with the New York and Boston Wards groups. As far as I’m aware, the local team doesn’t do this. They barely have regular situation training.”
Ooh, this sounds like a good idea. I mean, it doesn’t hurt that it would let him see his old friends once in a while, but yeah, it’s generally a good plan.
“I recall Triumph made a request for something like this, a few years ago. I believe we refused him on the grounds that it was frivolous.”
But is it, though. Especially in the wake of an Endbringer situation, isn’t it pretty clear that it wouldn’t hurt to train the Ward teams in working together if the situation demands it?
Weld squared his shoulders. He had to be assertive, here. “I’m firmly of the opinion that it would improve the local team’s ability to cooperate and respond to a greater variety of situations. I’m totally prepared to eat any and all paperwork on our end.”
Okay so I’m sure “eat the paperwork” is just a figure of speech I haven’t encountered before, meaning to deal with the paperwork, but I can’t help but imagine Weld literally chomping down on a stack of paper like a damn goat. I love it.
And hey, little to no risk of the usual problems with eating paper when your throat is made of metal.
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