Author's Note: Videos for characters canon and original, can be found on my Youtube channel via the link on my profile.
Götterdämmerung
"Sit down - please," Aaron said, gesturing to the chair beside him, making Rachel's hackles rise. Somehow her brother-in-law managed to make the most reasonable request sound like an order, but she guessed that came with the territory of serving on the Senate. Ever since her elder sister had surrendered her surname for another, Rachel had strived to stay on the right side of civil around her imposing in-law, but ten years on, she still hadn't managed to achieve that particular ambition.
"Is there a particular reason why you hauled me out here?" she said, reluctantly sitting down. She always preferred to stand around Aaron. It made her feel like she held the advantage over him. "The private jet was a nice touch," she said lightly, raising an eyebrow, "but rather melodramatic, I must say. Evelyn would have appreciated the retro Sixties interior though. She's going through a hippie stage," she finished, referencing her youngest sister, her English accent more cutting than usual.
Aaron appraised her over steepled fingers, recognizing, not for the first time, the challenge Rachel presented. Connected to the Kennedys, he'd exploited his heritage to the hilt, rising through the political ranks at a speed his rivals envied. Falling in love with an obscure English author hadn't slowed his ascent, Sarah's naturally aristocratic mien merely enhancing his status. Now there were rumours he was planning on running for President, rumours Aaron had refrained from challenging, seeing it as another means to raise his reputation to even greater heights. Becoming Senator had just been the start. But pride came before a fall, and none of that mattered now, not with his world imploding from within.
"Well?" Rachel prompted, raising both eyebrows now.
Aaron swallowed hard, before leaning back in his chair, his eyes suddenly becoming bright with unshed tears. He rumpled up his silvering hair with agitated fingers, the gesture uncharacteristically uncontrolled. "Sarah... is ill," he said, his voice cracking, "she's very ill, dy - they think she might not make it." His jaw worked, and he looked away, casting his gaze to the ground instead, his hands gripping the ornate rococo carving of his chair for support.
Rachel stared at him, the blood draining from her face. "The - the virus?" she whispered, gambling on a guess, feeling like she was going to faint as Aaron nodded. The infection was slowly spreading, not enough to cause panic, only to merely generate a few headlines on the less commercialized news stations. But to Rachel, who had been tracking its progress, it was ominous. The danger signs were pointing at it being more deadly than SARS or Ebola. But the CDC, where she worked, weren't taking it seriously enough, observing rather than acting, much to Rachel's frustration.
At first, it had been confined to the Third World, before emerging in the Middle East, with several suspected cases then being reported in Europe, only for that front to fall silent. In Rachel's professional opinion, it had only been a matter of time before it reached America, and now it had, turning her own sister into the carrier. Rachel slumped back in her seat, the shock hitting her like a tidal wave. Aaron glanced at her, his lower lip trembling. "She's in quarantine," he said, starting to rock back and forth, "along with half her staff - they've all tested positive - nobody will let me see her. All they say is that she's dying, that there's no hope" -
- "Then why am I here?" Rachel said, dragging herself back to life. "If there's no hope, why I am here!?" she suddenly screamed, making him flinch.
"Because they think this is the big one," Aaron said, finally meeting her eyes for the first time. "The one that could wipe us off the face of the planet."
Again, Rachel just stared at him, the world closing in on her like a kaleidoscope. "They?" she whispered in disbelief.
"The American government," Aaron snapped. "Who else? The Spice Girls? To say I had friends in high places was an understatement" -
- "Had? Was?"
"I am right in the middle of this mess, Rachel," Aaron said, biting his nails, "when this virus thing started, I - I tried to downplay with the rest of them, that it was nothing to do with us, that we were untouchable, that it wouldn't dare - But now it's here, it has Sarah, and they've made me their whipping boy. Behind the scenes, it's all gone into meltdown. They've tasked the CDC with developing a vaccine" -
- "There is no work being done on a vaccine," Rachel said, sitting up, spine stiffening, "there was talk, but that was it" -
- "They're doing it now," Aaron explained, "but it's top secret, and you would have been the last one to be brought on board." He bowed his head, unable to meet her blazing green eyes.
"They should have started working on a vaccine a long time ago," Rachel said from between gritted teeth, "I told them that time and time again, but nobody listened. All they wanted to do was study it, to chop it up into little pieces for their own benefit - bio-terrorism, germ warfare... As long it wasn't in their own back yard, and contained in their enemy's, they didn't care. It was all too convenient for them to have several population explosions wiped out like that without any cost to them" -
- "Listen to me," Aaron said suddenly, cutting across her, "the CDC - this is beyond them. My contact there says the trials for the vaccine aren't working and that the CDC is looking in all the wrong places for a cure. Time is running out, Rachel. That's why I brought you here. I've - I'm about to lose everything, and I deserve it, but it's not just about me. There are others who are being ostracised and isolated, all because they didn't agree with how this is being dealt with, people who challenged me and the others from the start. But now I'm one of their number, and we're closing ranks" -
"Get to the point, Aaron," Rachel said, struggling to control herself.
He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. "It's only a matter of time before this becomes public," he said, his hands shaking, "and I'll be an outcast. But until then, I still hold sway in certain quarters, where they're still in the dark over what's happening. By calling in a few favours, I've managed to get you and your colleague, Dr. Tophet, on board the USS Nathan James. Somebody on the Defence Policy Board - I can't say who - heard from one of their contacts at the World Health Organization that the Russians are investigating a possible cure in the Arctic, suspecting that's where the virus's origins are. The CDC is refusing to countenance this theory, so that's where you're being sent. It's a shot in the dark, but it's the only chance we've got."
"It's the only chance Sarah's got," Rachel said, correcting him, her fingers curling into fists.
Aaron shook his head, tears beginning to roll down his face. "It'll be too late," he said, his voice cracking again, "nothing can save her. But she would want you to save others. If you don't, millions of people will die, Rachel. It's as simple as that."
Rachel sat there; feeling like her heart was being ripped out of her chest. She remembered Sarah hunched over her keyboard, fingers tapping out a furious rhythm; the sound of her dirty laugh; the defensive look on her face when she announced she was marrying Aaron Brandon after meeting him at a fundraising dance-off in downtown DC, a whirlwind romance Rachel had never wrapped her head around, Evelyn's astonishment seconding her own. They had been the Scott sisters. They had been.
"Where and when did she contract the virus?" Rachel said, struggling to hold herself together.
"A week ago, in Egypt," Aaron said abruptly, making Rachel's heart stop. "She was opening up a women's refuge centre just outside Cairo - I told her not to go, but she wouldn't listen. Sometimes I think she loved her charity work more than me," he said, laughing bitterly.
"Because she felt you were more married to your job, than her," Rachel said, fighting the urge to hit him, her head spinning. A week. She'd been sick for a week, and nobody had told her. Not her brother-in-law, or her colleagues, nobody. Her sister was dying, and they'd lied to her, all for the sake of public security.
"Did she tell you that?"
Rachel nodded, remembering too many late night phone calls from Sarah, her slurred words, the clink of a wine bottle from the other end of the line.
"I know you don't think I do, but I love your sister," Aaron said, beginning to rock back and forth again, "there was never anybody else. There never could have been. Nobody matched up to her" -
- "She's not dead yet," Rachel snapped, tears springing to her eyes, "so stop talking like she's already gone!"
"Did she tell you how we met?" Aaron said, starting to lose all sanity. "It was at this charity dance-off thing, and we were up against these breakdancing hoodlum types, and she was throwing shapes like Cyd Charisse, and I thought, who is this broad?" -
- "They turned the women's refuge centre into a quarantine zone," Rachel said, suddenly standing up. "The Egyptian officials said the infection was contained - I - I was there not three days ago, gathering samples for the CDC to study - I - I didn't know Sarah had been there" - They'd known, and they'd sent her there, to where her sister had met her death, bringing it back in her wake...
- "It was all hushed up, honey," Aaron drawled, motioning her to sit down. "A cover up on a grand-scale. But I've orchestrated an even bigger one, sugar!" He started laughing again, the sound echoing around the room, making Rachel realise he'd lost his mind. Without warning, she slapped him, hard, startling him to his senses. He sat there, shellshocked, her red handprint made all the more vivid against the backdrop of his bloodless face.
"You're sending me to the Arctic," Rachel said, remaining on her feet, her voice shaking, "but what about Evelyn? I can't leave her behind."
Aaron stared at her. "You can't bring her with you," he said in disbelief, "my contact's spun a cock and bull story to get you on board that ship, a story that barely stands up to scrutiny as it is. Dragging your kid sister along for the ride is just going to attract even more unwanted attention" -
- "I refuse to lose another sister!" Rachel bellowed, silencing him. "I don't care how, but you better bloody get her on that ship, or I'll tell your superiors you're collaborating with the Russians. You're already on the way out, you said it yourself, so your little Russian racket would just hasten your exit."
Again, Aaron just stared at her.
"Don't play the wide-eyed ingénue, Aaron," Rachel hissed, "it doesn't suit you. I'm not naive. To get Russian secrets means you're working with the Russians - that on some level somewhere, somebody's selling out their own side. But I don't care about that. I don't care about whose palm you're greasing. You get my sister on that ship, and I'll find you that cure. For Sarah, it's - it's too late, but not for Evelyn - not yet. But I can't go out there, knowing she's back here. I need her with me. It's your call, Aaron, not mine."
Aaron hesitated, before nodding. "Fine," he said slowly, "have it your way."
"I always have," Rachel said coldly, "and always will."