My attention was riveted on Kristen's conversation with the President of the New World. She had him eating out of her hand, and he had no idea.
"So, to confirm, we stop what we are doing, you stop what you are doing, and we all go back to sing Kumbaya around a campfire," said the President, and Kristen nodded her head.
"More or less," she assured him. "But if you choose not to go along with that situation, by all means, fuck around and find out. You aren't the only one with deadly weapons."
"Fine," snapped the President. "I'll draft up an agreement, and you will need to come over and sign it."
Kristen threw back her head and burst out laughing, the sound so joyous that even Raphael couldn't help but smile. I looked around at my other mates, watching their shoulders drop and the tension they were carrying for so long to be released.