I continue to read the file that was compiled for me, the investigative team waiting on me to finish up. According to the evidence they've gathered- it started almost a year before President Williams's election. His bank statements show direct payments to election officials, text messages and phone calls explicitly asking them to ensure his victory. The crazy part is how many agreed- There had to have been some threat to their lives.
President Williams has always been rich enough to make anything he wants to go away do exactly that. He was born into a rich family- but became even more powerful as he got into politics. I'm only surprised that he's managed to get away with it for this long. "And why was this investigation not brought to my attention sooner?" I ask, crossing my arms. "Cause this is pretty fucking important."
"I didn't want to risk your life by showing this to you until we had undeniable evidence- which we have now." My field investigator says. I stand up, moving over to the information screens.
"Okay.." My voice trails off. "Why hasn't he been arrested yet?"
"The logistics of arresting a former president are still... complicated." He says.
"How?" I roll my eyes. "The accountability act should have taken care of that."
"But it didn't-" My legal advisor replies. "There are still loopholes in the legislation. The government organization responsible for the arrest still must inform secret service of the warrant so they can start planning out their protection detail for prison."
"And a former president's never been arrested before. They still need to work out all of the details- like if they can put him in solitary in a standard prison or if it needs to be a max, if he'll get his own prison ward or not- if he'll be on house arrest instead or if he'll get special privileges other inmates don't... you get the point." My legal advisor continues.
"About how long is that gonna take?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Could be anywhere from three weeks to five months." My deputy director states. "Depends on wether or not he cooperates.. which we know he won't. Secret service has left the decision up to you as to wether or not to bring him out in handcuffs or no-"
A notification from a CIA representative pops up on the main info screen, interrupting him. I quickly tap on it, pressing my finger to the password scanner when it asks. As a security measure, only a very small group of individuals can now open secure emails from other government agencies. When I read it, my mouth hangs open for the second time today.
Cc: CIA director for the department of national security and secure information
President Williams suspected to have given national secrets to Ukraine, Greenland, and France. More details to follow and more details attached.
-Dr.Monsen
"Jesus Christ." I mumble under my breath. This has been the most exciting day in a while. The Greenland one is really surprising- they're just about the last country anybody would think of when you hear the word "spy". I can tell now that today's going to be even longer than I thought.
I open the video attachment she's sent and press play. In it- on a security camera outside of a hotel he stayed in on his "vacation" to France, you can clearly see him talking to the suspected head of the last remaining terrorist organization in the entire world. We have to assume- of course, that there are still some in hiding- but for now, we're focused on this one, which presents an immediate and constant danger.
"I don't care about that, I just want him dead." President Williams says.
"We already tried once and failed. Damnit Williams- we can't do this again just because you hate him." The terrorist says.
"Of fucking course we can!! You and I are high ranking officials in the most powerful organization in the world! We can do whatever we want." His words send a chill down my spine. Throughout the security video evidence, they never say the name of the person in question, but I've got a pretty good idea. As it goes on, we only become more worried- because with the way he's talking, it's like he genuinely believes he's going to get away with killing him.
"Get the president on the line." I say. "And get my husband over here. Now."
——
"Can you at least explain to me what's going on?" Kyle asks. "Mina's at home and she got scared when they just abruptly made me come here-"
"She'll be fine, Kyle." Ella interrupts him. "We're waiting on the president."
He takes a lot longer to pick up the damn call than we'd hoped. I get - of course, that being the president- you get pulled in a million different directions at once, but fuck. Now's not exactly the time to be late. "Hey- you're doing it again." Kyle grabs my hand to stop me from chewing on my thumbnail. He mouths "what's wrong?" while holding me, not paying attention to anybody else in the room.
"Can't say yet. The more people that know.. the better. It's safer that way." I sigh.
"We're getting put through to the president's line." My assistant says. Finally. I love him (platonically), but Damnit- he sure doesn't make it a priority to be on time. To be fair, neither do I.
"Mr.President-" I say when the face time feed pops on the screen. "Took you fucking long enough."
"And what is so urgent that I had to be pulled out of a United Nations meeting?" Reggie rolls his eyes.
I glance at Kyle. "We have confirmation that President Williams is working with the leader of that organization we've been tracking."
Kyle's head snaps towards me so fast that my own neck hurts, a "He did what?!" look on his face.
"We also suspect that... he was planning on... attempting to assassinate my husband again." I continue.
We never did get out of the person who tried to shoot him the first time around who he was working for. He would go silent, and hasn't said a single word to this day. His entire house and every place he's been was clean too- which is terrifying- because it shows that there are still people who are smart enough to be in hiding, even with today's technology. Now, we at least think we know who planned it.
"Jesus fucking Christ-" Reggie says. "Do we happen to have any idea where he is right now?"
"No sir." Our hacker says. "I can't pick up a signal anywhere. He dropped off of the face of the earth at 4:37 yesterday."
"Where was he when this happened?" Reggie asks.
"About ten miles away at an abandoned office building." She replies. I grab my jacket, and Ella looks at me like I'm crazy. Maybe I am.
"You can't be serious-" Kyle starts. "You are the Director and a mother-"
" I'm also me." I shrug. "And no Ella, I'm not taking secret service with me."
"At least bring a few agents then." Kyle pleads.
"I'll come." My deputy says. "Not like I have anything else to do."
It's his son's birthday, but he knew what he was signing up for when he accepted the position. I grab my keys, and Kyle grabs my arm. "Please, please don't be stupid." The look in his eyes is almost begging me not to go. I pull my arm away and take his face in my hands.
"I'll be fine." I say. "Christ- thirty years and you still don't understand how fast I'll kick somebody's ass?"
—
In my deputy's car, I prepare as we drive. I reach down my boots, shoving both of my guns into them just in case. I replace one of my earrings with a camera made to look like a diamond stud, and reach down my shirt to attach a mic to my bra. I shove a tiny earpiece into my ear canal- one that's no bigger than an earring back, and tap it to test if it's working.
"Hello?" I say quietly to make sure the Mic's working.
"You're through." One of my field investigators says. I sit back, staring out the window. This part of DC's really improved the past few years with funding being relocated to actually helping people, but there are still a few run down buildings here and there. As we near the office building, I adjust my gun so it'll be easier to grab if necessary. He parks his car at a fast food place across the street and we both step out of the car.
"So.. how do you want to go about this?" He sighs. I pause for a second, calculating the plan in my head.
"We stay together in there. No ifs, ands or buts. We have no idea what we're going into." I say.
"No shit." He mumbles under his breath, but I chose to ignore him. The building is tall and has many windows, so we walk over there as quickly as we can to avoid getting- you know, dead. We simply climb through one of the broken windows, and I cut the palm of my hand on the way in.
"Are you-" My deputy director starts to ask.
"I'm fine." I say. "I've been through worse, remember?"
I wipe the blood on my jeans and rip a piece of my scarf off to cover it up. Inside, the place really does look abandoned. Papers everywhere- graffiti, a few abandoned chairs in the corner. A layer of dust about an inch thick covers everything. I move on to the second floor after finding nothing of importance here. On it- it's just more of the same shit.
"What the fuck?" I ask my mic. "You say this was the last place you picked up a signal?"
"Yes ma'm." The hacker replies from the other end. I sigh, running my finger along the surface of an old meeting table. When I bring it away, it's with a dust bunny about the size of my finger itself, and my face wrinkles in disgust.
"Come on-" I think. "You're a genius. Act like it."
I move back down to the first floor and start carefully kicking the floorboards to listen for any hollowness below. I've almost given up when I finally hit one that sounds different than the others. I bend down, clawing at the edges of the board around it- trying to find an edge to lift up. My deputy director tries too- and gets it after about ten attempts. Below, a ladder leads down into a much nicer room, and I'm reminded of that time I discovered all of those bombs. I take a deep breath, pushing the memory away as I put my feet on the first rail.
When I'm close enough to the floor to avoid injury, I jump down, not wanting to waste any more time. It definitely looks like somebody's been living here. It resembles one of the studio apartments Ella lived in a few years ago- being very cramped, but having high ceilings for whatever fucking reason. In one of the corners there's a computer desk, and my intuition instantly screams at me to go to it. I pull out the flash drive that Ethan gifted me a few years ago and insert it. It does it's job in less than a second, and I click on the files app to look for anything- though I'm not even sure what I'm looking for.
That's when I see it in the slight reflection of the computer screen. I spin around so fast that a section of my hair flies into my mouth, but I ignore it. "What the fuck are you doing-"
"Exactly what I was paid to do." He smirks, a gun pressed to my forehead. My eyes dart to my boots, and he notices. "If you even think about grabbing those, you're dead."
"Lauren? We're sending back- up now. Just do whatever he says to stay alive for five more minutes." Somebody says from inside of my earpiece.
"And I'm going to be needing that too." He holds out his hand, a "give it here" look on his face. I hesitantly dig into my ear to grab it, watching him like a hawk. In less than a second, I grab his wrist, pushing it against his arm so hard that one of the bones snaps.
In his temporary moment of pain, I manage to get to one of my guns- and shoot him in the balls. I almost laugh as he collapses, now writhing in pain.
Dumbass.
—-
As Kyle presses his finger to the reader on our front door, secret service watching us from the gate, he sighs. There are about five or so in our house at any given time, with twenty or so guarding the outside- they see just about everything, and any one of them could probably tell you all of our secrets, likes and dislikes. So when he opens his mouth to say something, he doesn't bother to word it differently.
"You could have died." He crosses his arms.
"But I didn't." I shrug, tossing my bag onto the staircase. "Besides, I'm not-"
"Yeah yeah- you didn't but you fucking could have! We have a twelve year old daughter that's already lost two of her parents, if you're forgetting."
"Oh don't start with that-" I roll my eyes. "I'm. Alive. And I don't plan on dying any time soon."
"You can't keep putting yourself in those situations-"
"I don't know how many more times we're going to have this conversation but let me be fucking clear- I will do whatever the fuck I please." I angrily throw my jacket over the coat hanger. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to be in my office finding a terrorist."
I walk up the stairs and slam the door to my office. Of all of the rooms in the mansion, it's the most high tech- with a lot of the same technology we use at work. A couple of years ago, I taught myself basic hacking so that I can track people's locations with out calling the office's hacker or Ethan, but I'm still not- and never will be as advanced as he is. In another room that you can only access through my office- which has another one of those scanners, there's another info screen like the one at headquarters- except this one can only be activated by my touch due to the security concerns of having one in somebody's house.
That's why it's in this room to begin with. The combination of metals blocks any signal in this room that's not in direct communication with government agencies. I quickly tap my finger against the scanner- and roll my eyes when I see that my deputy director hasn't spit out any information yet.
He's in the hospital now. They're treating him and he's refusing to talk.
I read over the quick-chat on the side of the screen. "He's fucking terrified." My special Investigator says when I invite myself onto a FaceTime call.
"Well yeah- I did shoot him in the balls." I almost laugh. "Hold on- I've got an idea. Just give me a few minutes."
I hang up the call and walk over to my computer. My fingers fly over the keyboard, and I write down the locations of the places he frequents most often. His house- duh. The restaurant within walking distance of it- fat ass. And... the CIA's headquarters?
What the fuck?
I quickly open a face time call on my phone, inviting the two individuals I know could help with this. Ethan picks up immediately, while Joe takes a minute.
"Hey- what's up?" Ethan smiles. "It's been a while."
"Can you two come to my office tomorrow? It's important." I ask.
What's wrong?" Joe asks.
"I think.. I think we may have a 2023 situation on our hands again." I say, looking around even those this room is the most soundproof one.
"Christ- are you safe right now?" Ethan responds.
"Yeah, I'm fine- it's not about me this time. Just- come in, please."
"Sure thing, boss." Ethan replies, hanging up. He's still a white hat hacking investigator- and because of his role in 2023, every government agency has been trying to hire him again- but now, he technically works for all of them- so his finger chip is basically a master key for security clearances, and it'll also self destruct if somebody tries to cut it out of him without it being deactivated first.
Joe stays on the call for a bit longer. "How are you doing, really?"
"Same as always." I shrug. "Stressed the fuck out."
"Aren't we all?" He says. "Marisol's insisted on being her own campaign manager. Says she doesn't want somebody else making campaign decisions for her."
My mind drifts back to yesterday's conversation with David. For a second I feel guilty- because Marisol was one of my best friends. I don't know Abigail but she seems like a genuinely nice person-just with some beliefs that take it a little too far. Let's say for a second that I do accept the nomination. One of us'll walk out disappointed. If I do join the ticket, I'll have to resign so there's not a conflict of interest.
"Lauren- are you there?" Joe says.
"Yeah I'm sorry I'm just.. I'm just tired." I reply as I type up an email to my investigator. "What were you saying?"
"That I wonder who David's gonna pick. He still hasn't made his short list public and candidacy paperwork's due next week." He states.
I gulp. If only he knew.
"Babe can you come here for a second?" I hear Marisol in the background.
"I guess I have to let you go." I say, my voice cracking.
"Yeah- I can get to your office around nine in the morning. Bye." He hangs up, and I sit back in my chair.
This decision is going to ruin at least two of my friendships. Fuck.
—-
As I close my office door, ready to head to bed for the night- I lean against the wall. The next week or so is going to be fun. With one of David's campaign managers leaking my name to the press, it'll come out any day now wether I like it or not. People'll be glued to their tv's waiting on the official nomination, so I don't want to drag this out.
I sigh- walking down the stairs and across the hallway to our bedroom. Ella's already gone home for the night- so a night shift agent has taken her place in the living room where she almost always waits by in case something goes wrong.
Kyle sits on the edge of the bed, waiting on me- an apologetic look in his eyes. I sit down beside him, my knees tucked to my chest and head resting on it. His hand finds mine. "I'm sorry." He says. "I should've just.. shut up."
"No-" I shake my head. "We both could've been less of an asshole."
He smiles. I pull my work top over my head and toss it aside, climbing under the covers- a "Come here" look on my face. He listens, and I cuddle up to him- his arm holding me close and my head on his chest. After thirty years- this still hasn't gotten old, even during the very few periods of time we weren't doing well. We have fights, of course- just not many, and nowadays- they're extremely rare.
My mind wanders back to the deputy director, and I almost want to drive over to the hospital so I can shoot him in the balls again. He knew every detail of the investigation into whatever they call the organization he's a part of, so the chances are- they do too. The security implications that presents are almost as bad as the 2023 incident that nobody likes to talk about any more because how how intense that time period was for the entire country. I feel like the second I go to sleep, something's going to happen and it won't be pretty.
"What are you thinking?" Kyle asks, playing with my hair.
"That we're all fucked again."
"Nah." He says. "Not with you on the investigation."
He's not completely wrong. Singlehandedly, though- I won't be able to bring down the last know remaining terrorist organization. I'm grateful to have the team do now more than ever. "I'm not that good at-" I protest.
"Sure you are." He interrupts. "Those seven thousand people that would be dead if you hadn't followed your intuition? Forget about that?"
My medal of freedom hangs above my dresser. Now, though- looking at it makes me sick, thinking about who awarded me with it. Sure, I did deserve it- but looking back, If I had the chance to do it over again, I would've waited until Reggie's administration to accept. I turn around to face the other wall, not wanting to see it right now. Kyle almost instinctively switches to his side with me, wrapping his arms back around me when we've both gotten comfortable again.
I close my eyes, finally attempting to go to sleep- but to no avail. It's at least two hours before I stop trying. I turn over, and Kyle's fast asleep. I smile- he's really cute like this, with all of his facial muscles relaxed. He looks younger, the rapid aging of the past few years less present on his face.
Though he's been able to sleep well for seven years, the heart attack and constant worrying hasn't been helpful to his health. Now, he goes to the doctor every three months- since he's actually started to listen to them instead of insisting he's fine like in the months immediately after his heart attack.
That hour or so when I didn't know what was going to happen was the worst one of my entire life. For all I knew, he could've been dead and they were trying to figure out a way to tell me without setting off a massive panic attack. When I was sitting in that hospital waiting room, I saw twenty three years flash before my eyes- slowly disappearing the longer the minutes went on. I thought that if he died- what was the point in being alive anymore?
I still have that thought sometimes, but then I see Mina's face in my mind, and I push it out faster than it came in. I turn back over, the room suddenly feeling hot, and stick one leg out of the covers.
After about thirty more minutes I give up and go to our bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I see a way different person than who I saw seven years ago. Not just because of the incident- some of the cases I've seen as the director are insanely graphic, yet I've become desensitized to those too. With that congressman that killed himself, I didn't even blink- while everybody else in the room with just as much experience as I have looked like they wanted to throw up.
Which I'll never understand- because blood is a part of the job we see every day. Sure there was a lot, but so what?
I drink water straight from the faucet, and put my hair into a messy bun so it doesn't get all tangled up when I finally do sleep. I reach into the top drawer and take one of Kyle's sleeping pills, waiting a few minutes before it kicks in. They have a name I can't even pronounce and are some of the strongest ones out there. I stumble to the bed, cuddling back up to him as my eyes begin to close against their will.
I dream about that incident again.