Secrets Can Kill

Part 1

The halls blurred past my vision as I ran down the many hallways, my long wavy brown hair trailing behind me and my heels clicking quickly against the marble floors. The steps down to the bottom floor seem to take forever while trying not to spill papers out of my arms. I hand my I.D. card to the security guard outside the doors and turn in any electronics into the wooden box. And even after all this, I finally reach The Situation Room right as the clock strikes 7 am. Perfect timing, as usual.

"We shall begin the meeting, now that everyone seems to be accounted for," said one of the White House officials while glaring at me accusingly as I sit down in a chair near the main table.

It's a small, low ceilinged-room with a large oval-shaped table that takes up most of the room. Due to me being late, it's already nearly filled to the capacity with only one chair left. It has my name on a place card, and it's luckily close enough to the table so I can be seen properly by the more important White House officials.

I nod in return as I begin to pull out documents after documents of reported sightings of Soviet missiles being built in Cuba. I then hand them to an older man, who has fine gray hair and deep brown eyes that don't seem to be so gentle, to be handed to President John F. Kennedy.

"These are all the papers and pictures that my director had just sent over to me from his office. There are specific markings on the pictures proving that these are in fact Soviet missiles in the locations stated on the bottom corner in black ink," I begin saying while the President and more of his advisers flip through the pages that I had brought.

Someone, in which I don't remember his name, then nods, "It does seem this way, but how can we be for sure that these are in fact real missiles and not fake ones put there to cause us to do something drastic?"

"This seems to be a real threat though, General," President Kennedy replies easily, "there can't be a for sure way to tell but I do believe that what she is saying is correct, that these are in fact Soviet missiles. And, if you ask my opinion," everyone in the room goes so still you could hear a pin drop, "I think we should continue with the research but we don't want to invest too much time into this and have it turn out to actually be nothing of the sort."

Almost everyone in the room nods except for the few that just silently narrow their eyes at Kennedy but don't say anything.

-_-_-_-

The meeting is dismissed a little later on, after two more hours of debating to be exact, and the older man who handed the papers to Kennedy then comes up to me as I am leaving.

"Seraphina Thomas."

I turn around and look to where the deep and rumbling voice came from, "Yes?"

"You do know the protocol of these meetings, correct?" he asks once the hallway clears.

I nod in response, "Yes, I have been briefed on the rules of secrecy within the meetings."

His gaze lingers on me for a moment longer before he slowly nods and walks away.

-_-_-_-

The commute home was a long one, I have to live about an hour away since the houses close to the White House tend to be extremely expensive. But, home is still home, and I love it there. It's a simple, white-stone, one story, two-bed, two-bath house with general accommodations.

Secrets... I don't like keeping secrets...

I walk in the door to find my husband of a couple years, Matt, sitting on the couch with our english springer spaniel, Copper, and I smile. Matt has dirty blonde hair that he prefers to keep extremely short and soft blue eyes that look calm next to my piercing ice blue. He's also a little taller than me at 5'9" and myself at 5'7".

Copper hears the door shut behind me and runs to me as I set my bags on the kitchen table. Matt then follows suite and hugs me.

"How was this 'super important meeting'?" he asks once we settle on the couch with Copper on the floor in between our legs and the radio turned on quietly in the background.

I shrug a little in response, "Just the usual meetings and likewise."

Secrets... more secrets...

"That's all? I thought you said that this outcome could either make or break your reputation," he shifts a little so I then have to sit up more.

I stare off into the distance, facing more away from him, "It turned out to not be as big of a deal as I thought it would."
Matt carefully then stands up, nodding, "I'll be outside grilling dinner if you need me."

-_-_-_-