CJ knew as soon as she said it that it was a bad idea. She should never give personal opinions from the podium. That could only lead to trouble. But how could she live with herself if she said nothing. Returning to her office she was already anticipating the backlash that would follow her words. Yet she didn't regret what she had said. It was the truth and someone had to speak it if or nothing would ever change.
CJ had always been opinionated and had never shied away from the consequences of those opinions. Partly the reason she had this job was because she could go toe to toe with Toby or Leo or even the President if absolutely necessary. She told it like she saw it and they respected that and had (most days) accepted her into that boys club of theirs because of it.
She would take the anger of some sexist, hateful, woefully ignorant men if it meant she could exercise her right to speak her mind. Perhaps by doing so she could inspire even a few women in countries such as Saudi Arabia and Qumar to do the same. If there was even the smallest chance she could use her position to ignite actual change in the lives of women living without freedom she would take whatever they could throw at her.
"Carol", she called out as she passed her "can you hold my calls for now, please. Especially those calls that pertain to Saudi Arabia, women's rights or me being the Spawn of Satan. That would be great."
"You got it, Boss. Good work in there."
CJ nodded at Carol, accepting the solidarity being offered to her by a fellow member of the Sisterhood. She sat down at her desk and returned to her regular workload, determined not to check her emails until at least the following morning.
She worked furiously all day, trying to work out her anger and frustration at the injustice of such an unnecessary loss of life. She tried to distract herself from the feeling of powerlessness that overcame her when she considered her inability to help those poor schoolgirls and all those in situations like them. She was also trying to avoid the other senior staff, not interested in discussing any possible consequences of her outburst right now. The fact that they hadn't sought her out spoke volumes. They would never say it but they agreed with her.
She had worked so hard that by seven pm she had nothing left to do. She knew she shouldn't, that it would just fuel the fire of anger burning inside her, but curiosity was getting the better of her so she clicked open her email. Scanning the subject lines she couldn't help but laugh. Did these people sending her messages really think that calling her names would change her mind or bring her around to their ways of thinking'. As they sat and typed these emails, most of which she wouldn't even bother to open, had they any idea how ridiculously weak and badly structured their arguments sounded.
Halfway down the page a blank subject box caught her attention. She clicked into the email, on the remote chance that it was actually work related. What she saw caused her breath to freeze in her chest for a moment.
BURN IN HELL BITCH. YOU KNOW NOTHING OF MY RELIGION. BUT I WILL TEACH YOU. YOU WILL DIE FOR WHAT YOU SAID TODAY.
For just one moment she sat frozen in fear. Quickly she realised how ridiculous she was being. It was easy to write a treat like this in an email. It was infinitely harder to follow through on it. She hit the x and closed down her computer for the night. CJ was done with this day. She was going home.
CJ felt slightly uneasy on her way home. She found herself glancing over her shoulder more times than usual, wondering just who was walking behind her. It rarely bothered her, how visible she was in her job and just how recognisable she was as she went about her life on her time off. Tonight, after reading her emails, she felt exposed and she wished she had driven to work instead of walking. Naive wasn't a word you would use to describe CJ Cregg. She had seen the email for what it was. A death threat. She had known as she spoke the words that caused this much hate to come her way that she would make some people angry. Yet she found it hard to believe that anyone would be angry enough to follow through on the threat she had received.
There was no need to tell anyone about it she told herself. It would just worry them for no reason. She would give this a few days to settle down and everything would go back to normal. But in the back of her mind she couldn't help but be reminded of this administrations previous encounter with fanatics and the devastating events of Roslyn when they had almost lost Josh to a hatred similar to what she had provoked today. She glanced over her shoulder once more, feeling ridiculously jumpy. Shaking off the feeling of someone watching her, CJ told herself she was being silly and let herself into her Georgetown home. She loved this house. It was her sanctuary and she never got to spend enough time here. She made a conscious decision to put the days' unpleasant events out of her mind and enjoy her evening off. Grabbing some wine from the fridge she went to run a bath, determined to have an early night.
Hours later she stirred in her sleep, wondering vaguely what had disturbed her. She started to cough and somewhere in her sleep soaked mind it registered with her that she was finding it difficult to breathe. She coughed again. Suddenly she was wide awake. She looked around her bedroom not believing what she was seeing. Flames engulfed the drapes and furniture by the window. Thick dark smoke was spreading around the room making the air heavy and toxic. She jumped out of bed and opened her bedroom door. To her horror and dismay more smoke filled the stairs. Without the light from the flames she couldn't see a thing. She felt her way down hugging the wall as panic filled her. Her throat burned and her eyes stung. She couldn't breathe. Her lungs screamed in protest at every smoky breath she inhaled. She needed to get out. She needed air. More flames filled her sitting room. They were spreading before her eyes, hungrily consuming everything in their path, gaining energy from destruction. Exhaustion was setting in. The heat was unbearable. She dropped to her knees and crawled. She could see the door; she just needed to go through it. She had to get outside to the cool clean air. She was suffocating. She tried to fight the blackness but it was too strong, too heavy. She passed out, just feet from the door, as the flames crept closer.