"She's the best, and I want the best," Fitz barked as he stood to tower over Cyrus. Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III was by no means an authoritarian, but when he had his mind set on something, hell would freeze over before he swayed from his original stance.
"But sir, I don't think bringing Olivia Pope on this would be in your best interest—" Cyrus began to rebut Fitz's idea of bringing his star pupil onto the campaign before he was cut off by two kids flooding the makeshift campaign headquarters office.
"Fitz it's almost noon and you promised to take the kids out for lunch" Mellie barked as she glared at a man she absolutely loathed from the door.
As Fitz excused himself from the room with his kids in toe, Mellie and Cyrus began yet another argument. It wasn't a secret that the two couldn't stand each other, but Mellie knew that if she finally wanted to live at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, she unfortunately needed Fitz and his trusty bunch of morons he surrounded himself with.
"We are losing. We are lost. I have not stood by his side for fifteen years smiling and pretending everything is honkey dory to lose this. I did not have two kids for him to be ten points back. I did not give up my life to be the wife of the guy who couldn't even secure the nomination. Fix it. And if you can't I guess I'll have to fix it myself." Mellie hissed.
"You really are a piece of work, you know that?" Cyrus shot back before getting up, grabbing his folders, and slamming the door in her face.
"Someday I will be done with this foolish man and his bunch of morons, and I will finally have the title I rightfully deserve: Madam President," Mellie quietly whispered to herself as she turned off the lights and walked out of the room.
"We need to release a statement. Something brief; something that inspires confidence; something that conveys hope," Olivia finally whispered as she sat in the hospital waiting room with Cyrus, Mellie, and about ninety nine percent of the secret service. "We need to give the country something to go on. Something besides the speculation the press is feeding them. Something to calm them all down."
"Olivia slow down, you're shaking," Cyrus said softly as he grabbed her hand.
"I can't slow down. The leader of the free world, the most powerful man on the planet, the President of the United States of America was just shot," Olivia roared. As a tear slowly rolled down her cheek and her head fell into her hands, she heartbreakingly mumbled, "my best friend was just shot."
Realizing that the only thing other than seeing Fitz that would calm her down was work, Cyrus reluctantly agreed to let her write a statement. "Tom can you please bring Ms. Pope something to write with and some paper."
"Right away," Tom replied as he spoke into his wrist. A minute later a man in a suit brought over the requested materials.
At 7:45 this evening, as President Grant entered his birthday gala, he sustained three gunshot wounds. President Grant is still in surgery but at this time his condition is listed as stable. At this time, on behalf of the entire Grant family, I would like to thank you for all of the prayers and support during this trying time. We will be sure to keep you all updated when more information becomes available. God bless you and God bless America.
Unwilling to leave the hospital, Olivia orchestrated the press conference in the ER parking lot and read the statement that took her all of thirty seconds to come up with.
As she walked back into the waiting room, she could sense the change in atmosphere. She looked at Mellie who was still wearing an impressive poker face, and then she looked at the empty seat that had previously been occupied by Cyrus.
"Ma'am, please come with me," Tom requested as he guided her down the hallway. He brought her to a large hospital conference room where she found Cyrus along with the heads of the secret service, FBI, and CIA. "Cyrus, we've located the gunman. He claims that he was hired by a trio of Grant's close acquaintances," the head of the secret service, James Cassidy, said, finally breaking the silence.
"Who?" Cyrus asked, the rest of the question unnecessary.
The CIA director stood up, and handing both Cyrus and Olivia a folder, said, "Hollis Doyle, Grant's chief donor; Edison Davis, senate minority leader; and Melody Grant, the president's wife."
"My Edison?" Olivia asked breathlessly. It was not secret that Olivia and Fitz were soul mates who were madly in love, but since he was legally married, a father, and the leader of the free world, Olivia knew she needed to move on and get some normal. And Edison was the one she decided to use for that.
"Yes ma'am. All three are being picked up and detained for questioning."
"Son of a bitch," Cyrus yelled, slamming his fists on the table. "How do we overcome something like this? The president is betrayed by his biggest donor and public supporter; the leader of the senate whom he is publicly close friends with; and his own goddamn wife. When this all comes out in the wash, and you know it will, he's going to look like the most naïve fool in the country. We're done. It's over."
"Not necessarily," Olivia said after a few moments, "all we need to do is spin it and we'll be fine. Fitz will be fine, and he may even be free." As she realized her last statement may finally be true, a small smile graced her face. This little bit of hope was all that she needed to get her through the rough next few days, weeks, and probably even months.