Madam President ✓

81. Sacrifices

Tanya

  "For only the second time this year, the president has directly called an emergency press briefing." A reporter whose name I can't quite place speaks to a camera in some press tent outside. "So from a correspondent's perspective: They were all sort of scattered throughout D.C just doing their own things, then they get this email that reads: The President requests the presence of all White House correspondents in the briefing room before 11pm. The wording alone is... strange to say the least. Last time, during that air strike in Iraq that killed twenty seven civilians, it wasn't a request. The president, as the leader of the free world- does not request anything unless something's seriously wrong."

And that's part of the reason I have to do this. Commands only get you so far with some people. Requests, to the Russian government, mean almost nothing. The only thing they respond to is heavy threats and action.

I can't take the actions I need to as the sitting president of the United States. If I led Russia- or even a smaller, undeveloped democratic country- things could be different. I could be as ruthless as I wanted without consequences- kill whoever I wanted to and kill members of the government body to keep them quiet.

But this isn't Russia- and it certainly isn't an undeveloped democracy. Things work a certain way here. There are rules I wish I didn't have to follow. If I could- the Kremlin would be leveled just like our capital building. The only problem is that we have spies among the Russian military patrolling the perimeter who would be injured at the very least- and Walter's still in there so there's no telling what condition he'd be in.

"Madam President?" One of the butlers knocks on my bathroom door. "It's time."

I give myself one last look in the mirror. The person in front of me has changed beyond recognition. Two years ago, she saw her life flash before her eyes. Less than twenty minutes later, she was told all of her future colleagues and the man she was involved in an affair with were likely dead. She would later find out he and a few family members of government officials survived the blast, but at the time the wind got knocked out of her and it hadn't even registered how much she loved him. A secret service agent told her she was the acting president and she almost had a panic attack- yet she somehow pushed through it knowing she didn't have another choice. Later- because of the trauma her affair endured from his wife and daughter dying, he would resign the second term of his presidency before he'd had a chance to do anything at all. After establishing the new line of succession, she could have resigned too- but she didn't. By that point she was already too far gone, too broken to be human.

  She'd turned into the very thing she swore she never would: A politician using tragedy for her own gain.

  The more recent tragedy, however, made her self aware.

  I don't want to be the person in the mirror anymore. This is how I achieve that.

So I work on my presidential stance for what feels like the hundredth time. They say it should come natural, not forced. Mine is nothing but forced.

A few feet away from the butler, Darrel leans against a table.

"Can I ask what this is about?" His eyes almost beg for some sort of explanation though understanding hides behind them too.

"Just...." I know he'll try to talk me out of it if I tell him, so I keep my mouth shut. "I love you."

Those words alone worry him- I don't think I've said them once the past few days.

"I love you too....." he exhales. "Tanya what-"

I turn before I get trapped in the conversation.

I meet Melissa, Carlos and Analise outside of the briefing room. I hate doing this to them- but if all goes right Walter'll be back on United States soil by the end of the week.

"Remember you want to make eye contact and avoid-" Melissa starts.

"I have done this before." Analise interrupts, annoyed. "Granted that was five years ago but.... It happened. Let's just get this over with."

Amen.

I feel guilty for a split second, but we're all tired. So, so tired. The sooner we do get it over with, the sooner I can get a few hours of sleep. I'll need it for the next phase of my plan.

Analise walks out first- then Melissa and Carlos take their seats off to the side, and I move to stand beside her. Reflexively, the reporters also stand. A few members of the press core recognize Analise- but most wear confused expressions.

"Where the hell's Walter?" I hear one of them whisper, thinking it was low enough not to be heard.

"Normally...." Analise glances over the teleprompter and stumbles. "Normally we.... would start these things off with a 'good evening' or 'Thank you for coming on such short notice'. But this is not a good evening and we cannot, in good consciousness, pretend it is so. Instead of dragging this out like.... most press secretaries would, I give the president the floor."

Traditionally, the president of the United States always has the floor for every room they walk into. In just these past two years, however- my administration has tried to give equal respect to each cabinet official and White House employee by the attention being solely on them if they're speaking.

"Thank you." I want to mouth an 'I'm sorry' to Carlos and Melissa, but there's almost two dozen cameras trained on my face right now. "The White House is very busy right now so I'll have to make this quick. Almost three days ago, at 2 am- Walter Thomas Adkins was kidnapped at the direction of President Ivanov of Russia."

The room erupts in shouted questions and panic almost immediately.

"Now- I want him and everybody involved to know this: Our government will not stop until we have him back, no matter what the circumstances or costs may be. And to Russia's allies- if you try to stand in our way, we will not hesitate to retaliate with that same force. If that force must be deadly- so be it. But at the end of the day.... I can't help but feel.... I am not the right person to lead this mission... in any capacity."

The last sentence was a lie of course- but a necessary one to properly execute the plan. I can almost feel Carlos frowning, with this not being in the script.

"Which is why, effective at 8 am tomorrow morning, I will be resigning my presidency."