The choices we make affect the world, whether we realize it or not. The decision to sleep in instead of going work for example can have a myriad of consequences. For example, you may be fired from your job which results in a downward spiral for the next few months or years of your life. Or, on the off chance, perhaps a disgruntled employee storms the building and kills a few co-workers, with a shot fired where you usually sit. By not going, you saved yourself, despite not knowing that when you hit the snooze button.

But perhaps more importantly, are the choices we do not make. Some cultures call it destiny or fate, others refer to it as luck. Whether or not the future is set in stone, can we still become the person we are destined to be when details change? Does fate truly determine who we are, and whether or not we will become the person of the year, or a monster feared by millions.

In the case of Ian Arden, monsters are not created by circumstance, they are born that way.

The following is a divergent time-line for the fan fiction, "A Monster is Born", in which the explosion of New York did not occur. For full effect, please read the above link, but especially Chapters Six and Seven.

Chapter One: The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men

Ian carried the large box over to his new desk, setting it down gently as he surveyed the room. It was a bit modest, the wood finish across most of the room seemed dull and aged, and the one window in the room was caked with a thick wall of dust. Ian sighed, expecting better from a government who had promised him the world and delivered nothing.

His life was anything but uncomplicated. He didn't know why he existed the way he had, the desires he had and compulsions he often gave into. The psychiatrist Hayes was a good example of that. Granted, the man compromised everything Ian had worked to build in his life, and he wasn't about to let some bow-tie wearing psychobabble asshole take that way from him.

It was a trait Ian knew all too well, doing what needed to be done. Most people would have taken the news lightly, tried the drugs, and hoped for the best...If they didn't end up in a nut house first. But, Ian wasn't like most people. For years, he'd tried to figure out why. He didn't remember his childhood, well most of it. He could recall bits and pieces, but only the bad. Happy memories faded from him faster than a bottle of whiskey in front of an Irishman.

He remembered little, but he knew the things that helped make him into the man he was. He remembered his mother, Helena, barely. He remembered watching her die, and how at the time, he was confused but happy to see it happen. He didn't understand the joy he took in watching his mother's head collapse under the weight of a car, nor the joy he took in the reaction of the driver and his grandmother. All he knew was, it was a sight that he enjoyed.

He also remembered his first, actual kill. Long before the Drill Sergeant at that god forsaken camp. The first kill was Buddy, an Akita that lived down the street from the Arden Family back in the day, long before Helena's accident with the car. Ian remembered, he must have been about five at the time, when he could hear the d*** thing barking day and night. The owner apologized on a daily basis, but never did anything about it. That was until Ian did.

To appease the people of the block, the owner bought the dog a shock collar to keep it quiet. It worked, but often the dog continued to bark and whine through the shocking. Even then, young Ian realized that the dog would never learn. And something that would never learn from its mistakes, had to pay the ultimate price.

During the night he took a screwdriver from his father's toolkit, as well as one of his own water pistols and a bucket and walked to the neighbour's house. Buddy was a passive dog, barked but never did anything else. This allowed Ian to get close. He took off the dog's shock collar, which prompted a lick from the disgusting animal, as Ian took the bucket and poured some water on the dog. He told it to stay, as he pried open the shock collar's waterproof contain, then tossed it towards the dog and the slight pool of water it was in.

The dog yelped for a moment, before it died, and Ian took off running back to his own house. Needless to say, word went out that it wasn't a random accident, and a few fingers were pointed, but never at Ian.

Ian smiled for a moment, as he recalled his first kill that counted, before he started unloading the brown box and its contents onto the desk. He thought more about why he was the way he was, and why he took such pleasure in the harming of other sentient beings. For years, he had blamed his father...But considering Buddy, he knew it had to have come from something before that. He did remember something once, his grandparents arguing.

Mona, Ian's grandmother, was quite upset that they were looking after Ian for the day. God, I must have been about three...Ian thought as the memory came flooding back, Mona threw a vase at Parker, his grandfather. They were arguing about trying to play God...Something about how Helena should never have married Thomas, and how they needed another grandchild to protect the future. That was all Ian remembered, which surprised him that he remembered anything at all from that long ago, he still didn't know what it meant. And considering Mona was dead, and Parker had disappeared for years, he probably never would.

Ian finished unpacking the box, as he threw it beside the garbage can and sat down behind his new desk. The sun had set hours ago, and a gentle rain was hammering the nation's capitol. He looked out the dust covered windows, and made a note to get a cleaning woman in there as soon as possible. He turned on the television, election coverage from a few nights ago, recounting the upsets and victories.

Ian leaned forward, as the results from New York were replayed.

"And in a surprise victory, former Associate District Attorney, Nathan Petrelli, was elected to New York's 33rd, despite overwhelming poll numbers suggesting the young ADA was heading for a defeat. Rumours have already been circulating that Petrelli has made in on the short list for his party to rise to a number of important committees and positions within Congress. Tomorrow, at 6, we'll have an interview with our new Congressman."

Ian turned off the tv, the surprise still working on him. He knew Petrelli would win, long before anyone else did. Granted, he wasn't the first to know, but he was brought in on it. He wondered, if he wasn't the calculating man he was, if he'd still be sitting in this office. He wasn't sure, but there was no point wondering too long about it. He was the man he was, and he was happy with it. Nothing to hold him down or keep him back, all he had to do was care about himself.

Ian smiled for a second, before the phone rang and the smile was taken off his face.

"Undersecretary Arden." Ian said, as he answered the phone.

"Ian. We have a problem." The voice on the other end said, clearly that of the Vice-President.

"What sort of problem?" Ian asked, as he leaned back in the big leather chair.

"My friend, the one who helped us out in New York, is dead. Apparently, his plans died with him. Petrelli's gone missing and we don't know what the hell has happened out there." The VP said.

"Well, what was supposed to happen?" Ian said, his fingers moving silently as a button was pressed on a device that began recording the conversation.

"Are you on a secure line?" The VP asked.

"Of course. I'm sitting in the god d*** defense department; if these phones aren't secure, then we have bigger problems." Ian replied.

"My friend, you might have heard of him, Daniel Linderman. He helped us make sure Petrelli got elected." The VP started, as Ian thanked whatever unholy abomination he called God for the gift of the Vice-President dealing with a reputed mobster.

"There was supposed to be...An accident, in New York. A lot of people dead. It would be a rally cry for the survivors to lobby their politicians and those who helped them. Petrelli was to be one of them, and find himself leaping across Congress faster than a junior usually does." The VP added.

"Just how much leaping are we talking here?" Ian asked.

"He'd be Speaker of the House in a matter of months, and in the next election would be handed picked and groomed for the Vice-Presidency. After that, the 'President' would have to resign for health reasons and Petrelli would rise to the Oval Office." The VP answered.

"And for what reason?" Ian asked.

"I can't tell you that...Linderman wouldn't tell me." The VP replied.

"You were working for a mobster who didn't tell you the full plan?" Ian asked.

"Yes...I owed him a few favours, let's just leave it at that." The VP replied.

"So, what happens now?" Ian asked, worrying for his own job as the plans fell apart around them.

"Well, obviously things are going to change without Linderman's hands guiding things. However, from my understanding of things, he was ready for this type of thing. There's a man, Robert Bishop, I was told to contact him if things ever went sour on us. I called you first, to let you know your office might be in jeopardy." The VP replied.

"Thanks for the consideration, but it will take a lot more than an accident not occurring and a congressman disappearing to force me from this office. Don't worry about me, I can handle myself from here. I have my ways." Ian replied, as he wrote down the name Robert Bishop on a nearby blank file.

"Good. Well, Ian, I trust I have your confidence in this?" The VP asked.

"Of course. I have to go, but if things change, keep me informed." Ian said, as he hung up the phone and looked at the name on the paper.

"Perhaps its time to have a conversation with Mr. Bishop."

End of Chapter One

Chapter Two: Revelations

Ian's flight touched down hours ago, but he was just getting to the building in Hartsdale, New York. His car pulled up to a large gate, then drove through moments later as Ian got out of the back and saw a balding man standing on the stairs waiting.

The man noticed Ian as he walked towards him with his hand extended.

"Robert Bishop, I presume." Ian said, as he shook the man's hand.

"Please, call me Bob. Just follow me to my office and we can talk there." Bob said, as he motioned for Ian to follow him.

After a few twisting hallways and numerous other stairs, they reached Bob's office, which looked more like the kind of place a psychologist would work in than the head of a paper company.

"This isn't like other paper companies I've seen. What exactly happens here?" Ian asked, as he sat down on a large brown leather and wood chair across from the desk, hiding a look of embarrassment as he saw a photo of Bob holding a large fish.

"Guess you're not much of a fisherman, then." Bob said, as he noticed Ian's look over the picture, as he took his place behind the desk.

"We don't produce paper here, that happens down in Odessa. This is our research division." Bob answered.

"Research? I thought paper had sort of reached the penultimate of where it was going to be." Ian responded, as Bob smiled and chuckled slightly.

"A popular misconception." Bob replied.

Ian gave a small smile back, as he scanned other areas of the office, making a note of the files over in the corner that contained large boxes that had names printed on them. Ian made a mental note of most of the names, surprised to see Petrelli's name among the files.

"It's rude to not look to the person you're talking to." Bob said out of the blue, as Ian phased back into the conversation.

"Sorry. I just noticed something I recognized." Ian said, as Bob leaned forward waiting for an answer.

"The cello. I don't know many people who play." Ian said, covering his spying of the names with the cello that rested near by the shelf.

"Not mine, my daughter's. She considers this place a home away from home, you'll probably see her at least once before you leave." Bob said, as he leaned back in his seat and looked at Ian.

"So, I'm guessing this doesn't have to do with a paper contract with the US Government?" Bob said, as Ian nodded and leaned forward.

"I understand you were to be contact in case of a problem in New York." Ian said, as Bob nodded.

"I assume you're replying to what Linderman had planned?" Bob said, as Ian nodded.

"Well, I was never fully sold with Linderman's plan. Personally, I've never followed any of our friends who advocated the idea of mass death to fix the world." Bob said, an unmistakable tone of regret in his voice.

"Friends? There were others?" Ian said, as Bob tried to brush him off and ignore it.

"Forget I mentioned that. We're working now to clean up Linderman's mess in New York, and we're doing everything we can to fix it. Either way, I don't know what you had to do with Linderman's plan in the long run, he never was a fan of sharing his information...Although, Angela Petrelli might be able to help you a bit more than I could." Bob said, as he walked over to the shelf and grabbed the Petrelli file.

"Look, let's drop the f***ing charade here. This is more than a paper company, if you even actually do that, and you're going to let me in on it or I'll drop the hammer hard on this place." Ian said, as he took the file folder from Bob.

"Quite a few years ago, myself and a few like minded individuals got together and thought that we could make a difference in the world. Needless to say, there were a few radical individuals like Linderman, who advocated extreme ways doing so. Overtime, Primatech was created as a front to allow us to operate where ever we want, thanks to the free market." Bob said, as Ian opened the folder box and took out the files.

"There's nothing in here that I don't already know." Ian said, as he closed the box and handed it back to Bob.

"There is one thing you can do, and that's tell me where I can find Angela Petrelli now." Ian said, as Bob nodded.

"There's a hospital in New York, you'll find her there visiting her son." Bob answered.

"Peter or Nathan?" Ian asked.

"Nathan. He was injured quite badly last night, Peter's the cause and he's in a safe location for now. You leave Peter to us." Bob said, a certain anger in his voice.

"And you think you can treat a potential criminal better than the government?" Ian said.

"Let's just say, we've had experience with his kind before. We're better suited to deal with the situation." Bob said, as he wrote down an address and handed it to Ian.

"Don't anger Angela, she's dangerous when she's angry." Bob warned, as Ian took the paper and read the address to himself.

"Once I've spoken to her, Bob, I'll be coming back here and you'd better have a lot more answers for me. No more beating around the god damned bush here. You'll let me in on everything that's going on here, or there will be a reckoning on you and your little Company." Ian said, as he stood up and walked out of the room.

Bob stood there for a moment, before picking up the phone.

"Elle, I'm going to need you to leave Peter alone for a bit. Keep a closer eye on Ian Arden for a little bit, and see whether or not he's going to be a problem." Bob said, before clicking the phone and dialing another number.

"I know you've said never to call you here, but I've just had a visit from your grandson..."

End of Chapter Two

Chapter Three: Ghosts of the Past

Ian's car drove to the hospital in Manhattan, coming to a stop just before the ambulance loading zone, as he opened the door and climbed out.

"Just find a place to park, I might be awhile." Ian told the driver, as he shut the door and made his way into the hospital.

He never liked these places, a certain vibe just came from them. The smell of 'clean', among other things, was also something else that put Ian off of the places. He took out his wallet, preparing his cards to show the front desk workers, as he walked over to the reception area.

"Yes, can I help you?" A woman in pink scrubs asked from behind the desk.

"Of course. I'm looking for Nathan Petrelli's room." Ian responded, as he slid his card to the woman, hoping that the government seal would be enough to get past any 'not allowed to visit' mentions.

The woman looked at the card for a moment, then handed it back to Ian.

"I'm afraid Mrs. Petrelli has requested that no one outside of family is allowed in." The nurse replied.

Ian tilted his head slightly.

"This is a matter of national security. I'm not here for Nathan, I'm here to speak with his mother." Ian answered, as the nurse nodded.

"Alright. If you'll wait in the cafeteria, I'll call her down for you." The nurse replied, as Ian flashed her a fake smile and made his way towards the cafeteria.

The smell of gravy and beef was overpowering in the place, certainly not the most palatable food in the world. After sitting down in a corner, as far away from the food serving area as he could, an older woman dominantly walked into the cafeteria. Her clothing making her stick out in the place, as she looked like she belonged in a bank or resort, rather than a hospital. That must be Petrelli.

Ian waved to her, and she looked at him sternly as she walked over.

"I certainly hope you have a damned good reason for taking me away from my son." Angela said, as she sat down across from Ian.

"And hello to you to." Ian replied sarcastically.

"I'm here to speak with you about what happened, Angela. About Linderman's plans, all of it. You need to tell me what you know." Ian said, as he looked at her.

"I don't know what you're talking about, or who you are." Angela replied, as she looked as though she was getting ready to walk away.

"My name is Ian Arden, Undersecretary of Defense, United States Government." Ian answered.

"Arden. You were the inside man the VP put in place for us." Angela replied, her memory of the plans obviously coming back to her.

"Yes. And seeing as how things seem to have gone wrong, I'm working on seeing what happened." Ian replied, as sat up in his seat.

"A mistake from the past threw the wrench in our plans. Nathan always had a soft spot for them, women that is. I tried to keep her hidden from him...But, secrets don't usually stay buried for long." Angela started, as Ian looked at her.

"Hide who?" Ian asked.

"Claire, Nathan's first daughter." Angela replied, as she cupped her hands together in front of her.

"How did she destroy a plan someone like Linderman came up with?" Ian asked.

"Love, ironically." Angela answered, seemingly more to the sentence than she was willing to say.

"She convinced Nathan that what he was doing was wrong; that he couldn't do that to the people of New York, or to his own brother. Her rejection, opened his eyes. I didn't think it would have." Angela answered, as she stretched her fingers out in front of her.

"So, Nathan refused to go along with the plan to 'b-up' New York because of some daughter? Well, perhaps Linderman wasn't too clever when he picked your boy to be the leader of this charge." Ian said, as Angela cast him a look, before slapping him.

"They were both great men, I don't want to hear otherwise." Angela said, as she recollected herself than looked at Ian with the same grandmother-ish kindness she had a moment ago.

"After that, Nathan decided he had to save Peter, and that's how he ended up in here." Angela said, as she stood up and looked over at Ian.

"That's it? You've got nothing else for me? Why was Peter so important? Save him from?" Ian asked.

Angela thought for a moment, then looked sternly at Ian.

"From himself. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go look after my son." Angela said, as she turned and walked out of the cafeteria.

f***. I'm no closer now than I was moments ago...Ian thought to himself, as he stood up and walked outside to find the limo pulling back in to the emergency parking. He climbed into the backseat, as he looked at the driver.

"Take us back to Hartsdale. I need to speak with Mr. Bishop again."

*******

Ian stood outside Bishop's office, knocking on the door loudly, as it swung open and a young blond woman shot him a curious look.

"Wow, why so serious, dude?" She asked, as Ian walked past her and sat down in the office.

"Where's Mr. Bishop?" Ian asked her, assuming she was some kind of secretary, as he looked around the office once more.

"Some kind of conference call thingy...Nothing to major. Do you want a glass of water, maybe a doughnut or something?" She asked, as Ian shot her a disapproving look.

"Guess that's a no...Wow, you're more serious than Noah. That's kinda creepy." She said, as she walked over to a water cooler and grabbed a paper cut, filling it for herself, as Ian wondered who the hell Noah was.

"Elle. I didn't realize you'd be here." Bob said, as he walked into the office, looking strangely at his daughter.

"Just looking after our guest, daddy. That is what you wanted me to do, isn't it?" Elle replied, as Bob walked past her and sat down behind his desk.

"Not exactly, young lady. We'll talk after I've had a chance to speak with Mr. Arden..." Bob said, as Elle frowned and walked out of the office, closing the door behind her.

"So, I'm guessing Angela didn't say very much." Bob said as he looked at Ian.

"Wow, you must be a mind-reader..." Ian said sarcastically, as he stared Bob down.

"No, I'm afraid I don't do anything like that." Bob replied, as he leaned back in his chair, a sort of strange smile on his face.

"Look; I'm tired of people jerking me around, alright? First you, then Petrelli, now you again. Someone is going to give me some god damned answers here, and they better be pretty god damned soon." Ian said.

"Have you ever considered a career in paper, Mr. Arden? You seem to have the type of determination and dedication we like to see in our employees." Bob said, as he took out a paper and handed it to Ian.

Ian looked at it for a moment, before tearing it up.

"I'm happy where I am. Now, answers." Ian replied, coldly.

"I'm afraid I've been told to not let you know anything." Bob answered.

"Told? I thought you were the boss here." Ian replied.

"Oh, even I have my superiors...But they're not interesting in monitoring what I have to say, rather they seem more concerned with what you might find out." Bob answered.

"Another wild goose chase then? If you want, I'll bring in the government on this, on you...And we'll make sure the lot of you talk." Ian threatened.

"You don't scare me, Mr. Arden. In fact, if anyone in this room is supposed to be terrified of another, it should be you." Bob replied calmly.

"Well, then, I guess you've just made a large mistake." Ian said, as he stood up and moved towards the door.

"You'll be hearing from quite a few different agencies." Ian said, as he opened the door and saw Elle standing there.

"I think not." Bob answered, as Elle grabbed Ian by the collar and threw him inside the office, sending him into a bookshelf then onto the floor.

Ian looked up just in time, to see a bolt of electricity seemingly fly from Elle's hands and into him...

End of Chapter Three

Chapter Four: Home is Where the Heart Is

When Ian woke up, he didn't remember very much of what happened before he blacked out. He remembered seeing Angela Petrelli at the hospital, and his muttering argument with Robert Bishop, but he didn't remember how he ended up where he was...Or where here was.

He looked around at his surroundings, trying to get a bearing on what the hell was going on. White stone walls...Steel looking door...Window, probably bulletproof and shatterproof...Built in overhead fan...What the hell kind of place is this? Ian wondered, as he stood up off the cot he was on and walked around the small room for a moment, making note of the placement of the bathroom facilities in relation to the window.

"Someone must be something of a voyeur..." Ian muttered to himself, as he kicked the base of the sink then sat back down on the cot.

He heard the clicking of a lock, as the steel door slid open and Robert Bishop walked into the room, a mysterious older man standing behind him.

"Ah, you're awake. Good, we were starting to get worried." Robert said, as he shut the door behind him, the mysterious older man staying out of the cell.

"You think you can just kidnap me and make things go away? I'm not the kind of person who drops away without noticing." Ian told him, as Robert came closer.

"Kidnapped? Wow, that little shock must have done more than we thought...You were leaving my office, and some how, in a freak accident, one of our outlets had a little electrical overload. You were electrocuted, so we brought you down to one of our medical treatment rooms to make sure you were alright, Ian." Robert said, as he sat down on the cot beside Ian.

"You expect me to believe that? I can tell when people are lying, and you're lying." Ian told him, as he stood up from the cot and walked towards the window.

"Yes, believe me, we know all about you and your second-sense for when you're being lied to, Ian." Robert answered, as Ian turned and looked around at him.

"We?" Ian asked, as the door opened again and Angela Petrelli and the older man entered the room.

"He doesn't know, does he?" Angela asked, as she looked over to Robert than back at the older man.

"Seems he doesn't...Do you think Linderman knew?" The older man asked.

"We don't know exactly what he knew...He perverted a lot of the Company's standards and files, personal usages, locks on folders we don't have access to...It's possible." Robert replied, as Ian looked at the three people in confusion.

"What the f*** is going on here?!" Ian yelled, as the three people all stopped and looked directly at him.

"Well, if that's why he was selected, perhaps we should leave him where he is..." The older man said, before Robert stood up and cut him off,

"If that's true, I think we need to know exactly what he's capable of." Robert adds, as they both look over at Angela.

"What?" She asks, as she feels both men staring at her.

"What do you think, Angela?" The older man asks, as she looks over at Ian.

"For almost twenty-nine years I've listened to this Company tell me how to deal with my own family...I'm not going to make that call when someone else can have the same experience I have. You decide, Parker." Angela tells the older man, before she walks out of the room.

Ian looks at the old man, his memory starting to come back to him.

"Parker...Grandfather?" Ian asks, almost quizzically, as Parker nods then looks over at his grandson.

"Fine; run him through the gauntlet, but make sure you have our mutual friend come and 'talk' with him when you're done...Then send him back to Washington...Even if Linderman's plans for him are moot at this point, we could always use someone in the government on our side." Parker said, before he turned and walked out of the room, allowing Elle to walk in after him.

"Elle, could you incapacitate Mr. Arden." Robert said, as Ian glanced over at the petite blond girl.

"What's a matter, Bob? Not man enough to take me down, have to send a little girl?" Ian taunted, as Robert shook his head.

"She's already done it once." Robert answered, as Ian looked over at Elle to see the girl forming another electrical arc heading towards him....

*********

Ian woke up behind his desk in Washington. He didn't remember much, the last couple of days seemed like a blur. He remembered speaking to Angela Petrelli in New York, as well as Robert Bishop...But he didn't remember how he got home, or what he was doing there. Ian leaned back in his chair, scratching his neck as he turned the television in his office on.

There was a news conference in progress, the dimwitted president standing in front of the podium with a mournful look on his face.

"It's my sad duty to address the nation today, to confirm the news reports, that our vice-president has indeed passed away from a massive heart attack. My heart goes out to his family and friends, who have suffered this terrible loss...Now, I won't be taking any questions, but I will make one statement in regards to the twenty-fifth amendment. With my term coming to a close in a few months, and an election on its way, I feel it would be best not to clog up Congressional proceedings with a nomination process. Therefore, I will appoint and interim VP to look after the job until the election can occur. Thank you." The president said, before walking away from the podium.

Ian leaned back in his seat for a moment, wondering what was going to happen now. The VP had been the one that brought him into all of this, made sure that he climbed the ranks and gave him the warnings he needed to stay ahead of some curve balls. Without him, things were going to become risky, and he needed to figure out how he was going to stay ahead without an insider...

End of Chapter Four

Chapter Five: The Appointment

Ian sat in the Oval Office, rubbing his hands slightly as he wondered what he had been called there for. With the VP's passing, Ian was worried that this was going to be the time when he was handed his walking papers.

Ian and the President had never seen eye-to-eye, it was the VP's influence over the man that kept Arden in his office and made sure he climbed the ranks now and again. The door clicked slowly, as Ian leaped to his feet and the President entered alone.

"Mr. President." Ian said, a tone of 'respect' in his voice.

"Mr. Arden, please sit back down." The President said, as he put a file folder down on his desk and then turned to look at Ian.

"No doubt you've been wondering why you've been brought in here." The President said, as he looked Ian in the eyes.

"No kidding. The last time you and I had a private appointment, I ended up being shipped off to Iraq. Let's hope a different outcome happens here." Ian said, calmly.

"Well, Afghanistan's still in need of more troops." The President said with a chuckle, before he made his way closer to Ian.

"No, I'm not here to send you away Ian...I'm here to fulfill the requests of my dead vice-president. He thought very highly of you, said you were quite the capable man...Which is why I'd like to appoint you to be an interim Vice-President until we can have the election." The President said, as he smiled.

Well, that sly son of a b****. He's not getting rid of me that easily, Ian thought as he smiled back.

"I'll have to politely decline." Ian replied, as the President's smile disappeared and his face took on a look of shock.

"What do you mean, decline?" The President asked.

"Say no. The fact of the matter is, I like where I am right now, and I believe I can do better work there. And besides, if I take this interim post, there's no doubt the next President would dismiss me from any position within the government. Just because your expiration date in politics is coming, doesn't mean I'm exiting with you." Ian said, as his own smile widened.

"I've underestimated you, Ian. I'll give you credit for catching on, I was hoping you'd come across as too biased to remain in the bureaucracy after the next President comes to office..." The President said, as he walked back over to his desk and grabbed some more papers.

"Take a good read at those. They implicate you in a lot of what this administration has done, and either way you're going to come across as a controversial figure..." The President said, as he tossed the paper folder to Ian.

Ian looked at the papers, especially the ones on the Keep-Watch Program. Ian laughed a little, as he circled through the papers.

"Well, most of these are pretty cheap forgeries. As for the ones that contain any facts, they implicate you, and previous administrations of conspiracy to start a war for the sake of having a war...Not to mention, the money you personally made off the contracts with weapons companies for suppling our troops. No matter what you release on me, Mr. President, I have ten more files that will paint your legacy as nothing more than a corrupt government...Not to mention, my files will likely lead to some criminal charges." Ian said, as he took a breath.

"As for Keep-Watch...All these say is that I was appointed to look into what nation represented the greatest threat to American security. You and I both know I never signed onto any documents to start the war...And, I have a military record of service in the war you started...I'm a god damned war hero to the people who know me well, and I have some purple hearts to flash for the news cameras when the questions start getting asked. What do you have? Nothing." Ian said, as he leaned back, his smile even wider as the President's expression seemed to be one of a child who's just discovered Santa Claus isn't real.

"You're...Free to go." The President finally muttered, as Ian nodded.

Before Ian left, he took a lighter out of his pocket, and set fire to the papers the President had handed him.

"I don't care if you have copies...If you do, you might want to do the same...You never know how papers can sometimes just accidentally get mailed to the New Yorker or the Washington Post." Ian said, a tone of warning in his voice, as he walked out of the office....

End of Chapter Five