Madam President ✓

10. Working With A Genius

Alex

At a dangerously high speed, I pull out of where the Capital used to be. When we got into this car again, we knew what our destination would be without saying it. This is the type of partnership we've developed from seven years of officially working together- after she was promoted to the FBI headquarters. In the beginning she had a few things to say about how I was thrown straight in, not really having to work as hard as everybody else- and then she saw my IQ score for that year and shut the fuck up. It's fluctuated every time they make me take the annual test depending on my stress level, the amount of sleep I've gotten and if I've eaten anything that day- but it's consistently above Einstein's.

  And it's that IQ that's helped me see things others wouldn't- the IQ that just isn't being as helpful as I want it to be at the present moment.

  "Well there's no way we can go to the White House- not yet anyways." Amber vocalizes her thoughts. "Not until we find the motherfucker."

  By "we" she means Jeremy.

  If the FBI plucking me from my hometown without warning was bad- they really have some explaining to do with him. At fifteen years old, he became the first and only person to ever successfully hack the nuclear football. His actions were kept out of the public eye, but at his trial (according to him) his exact words were: "I just wanted to see if I could. I wasn't actually gonna blow up the planet- duh."

  Despite having the attitude of a fifteen year old, the federal government struck him a deal( mostly because they knew he could hack the White House from a blackberry if he tried): He could work for the government in any higher investigative agency he wanted, or he could face the death penalty. His first reaction was to laugh, as at that point it time he hadn't registered that if his finger accidentally slipped or he pressed one wrong button remotely, he could have exploded a major city.

He later insisted he wasn't that fucking stupid- and I do believe him. After a single week of thinking in a jail cell, he took the offer. It came with incredible benefits after all- ones that a fifteen year old wouldn't have gotten anywhere else. They payed for his relocation to D.C, gave him his own apartment that he has never and will never have to pay bills on, a car, food allowance, and an unlimited budget for hacking equipment for his office. He really has a field day with that one, and for the federal government it really payed off. He's had the highest success rate of any investigative agent ever.

So about four years ago, when he'd started really settling into his office, I went to pay him a visit. He was sitting in front of an oversized monitor, hacking a bakery's system out of all places to glitch it and get a pan of brownies sent to his office for free. I shook my head. What was the point when his salary's bigger than the president's?

"You know they're gonna catch you eventually, right?" I remember saying.

"Oh I'm counting on it but-" he swung around in his chair. "I have full and unconditional immunity from the president of the United States. I'm untouchable. I've read up on you. Your file says that your IQ was 172 last year? They pick people like us because they know they wouldn't get shit done otherwise. Your wife is, how should I say this-"

"Girlfriend." I corrected him.

"Yes well, no offense but she seems quite average-"

"Her IQ is only slightly below yours you fucking asshole-"

"You and I would make a phenomenal investigative team."

I told him to fuck off about a hundred different ways, mostly because of his comments on Amber. For over a year I actively avoided him and chose to work with other hackers or do it my damn self when I had to, until the director said that was enough and forced both of us into the same room to tell us we were now partners whether we liked it or not. Jeremy smiled and I wanted to punch him, but over time we rubbed off on each other.

Now, I can tolerate, and yes- even trust him. He is one of the only people who comes to mind that would have nothing to do with this, despite where he started, because last year he confessed something to me:

"The director himself told me what would happen if I stepped out of line or pulled something like the 2016 incident again. He said I would go straight back on death row. I laughed at him until the president of the United States told me the same thing."

  And the thing is- he doesn't hate his job in the slightest. He loves it, but hanging death over someone's head if they so much as look at the possibility of not working for the government will make anybody resent it over time.

  Not once has his performance faltered though.

  So with the first sense of relief I've felt in a while, we pull into the parking lot of headquarters- the parking reserved for agents that have their own offices. Amber and I immediately get out and start speed walking towards an elevator at the end of a restricted access hallway. On the second floor, the chaos of the day hits us. A hundred or so agents are crowded into an area that's supposed to fit twenty at the most. Overwhelmed, I look away and knock on Jeremy's office door.

  "I was wondering when you'd show up." he says when he swings it open. "Got anything for me?"

  "Sort of um... Can you find out who knew that the Secretary of State was the designated survivor?"

  He sighs. "Not without hacking into the White House security cameras or classified files."

  Amber and I side eye each other. Before she has a chance to speak, he puts up a hand to stop her.

  "No. Absolutely not."

"Jeremy-"

  "No!" He shakes his head. "Have either of you ever been on death row?"

  "No but-"

  "Well it's not fun and there is no way in hell I'm going back there."

  "Jeremy-" I say. "Jane authorized us to use whatever means necessary to crack this case. Anything we do would-"

  "Just bounce back to her." He finishes my sentence, a hand over his mouth- like everybody else still trying to process what happened. He finally breaks. "Fine. But if it does come back to bite any of us in the ass, you are the ones that hacked the White House, not me. Got it?"

  We both nod.

  "How long is it gonna take?" I ask.

  "Hell if I know." He rolls his eyes.