a/n: I have not given up on I Will Tell You the Mystery. The next chapter is basically written, but I'm not super happy with one section. I thought getting this story off my mind would help me buckle down and finish up the other one.
Break in Diplomacy was such a fantastic episode on many levels, but I tend to think a bit more darkly than TPTB. This is my take on a President Andrada that was a different kind of crazy…more of a paranoid, psycho fascist than a rapey, psycho fascist. One shot.
Break in Sanity
"I like what I'm hearing," Datu said with a large grin on his face. Standing he took a step toward Elizabeth. He looked her up and down, causing her to take a step back and cross her arms protectively over her chest. "We have a tradition," he said moving to the coffee bar on the other side of the room.
Bess took a slight breath. Knowing her back was to the man, she could momentary let the fake smile drop from her face. It wasn't the first time she had been visually appraised like a thoroughbred horse. It happened more often than she cared to consider, even on her own turf. Most of the time she was able to chalk up the action as a subconscious reflex most men weren't even aware of in the moment. An issue for another time she thought and turned. Andrada had moved behind her like a predator sneaking up on its prey. She looked down and saw two delicate tea cups balanced on small saucers.
Datu extended a cup to the blonde with a smirk on his face. "This is a special tea. We drink it when we reach a milestone with a competitor," he said waiting for her to take the drink. "Partners?"
Not wanting to do anything that could jeopardize the suddenly reasonable mood the erratic president had settled into, she took the cup with a newly minted fake smile. She watched him down the liquid in one smooth motion, signaling that she should follow suit. Bringing the rim of the cup up, a pleasant floral fragrance wafted up. If this helped seal the deal, so be it. She downed the warm tea in one drink and tried her best to muster a look of civility.
Taking the cup from her hands, Andrada motioned her back to his desk. "I'll just get my assistant in here to draw up some papers," he said.
A strange light headed feeling abruptly washed over her and then faded. She took a moment to remember the last time she ate. "That's not necessary Mr. President. We have contracts already drafted just waiting for the final details," she explained. Spots drifted over her vision and a heat flashed through her. Was her blood pressure really that low, she wondered.
A door opened to the left of her, an entrance she hadn't noticed before. A stern looking man in fatigues entered. It was strange attire for an assistant, but maybe they utilized military executive support when dealing with military matters. Moving to meet the newcomer, her eye lids drifted. Shaking her head, she suddenly understood. She had been drugged. She tried to change directions and move toward the main entrance to the office, the door that lead to Blake and her security detail, but was intercepted by Datu. His strong grip wrapped around her bicep. Before she could call out, the white spots dancing on the edges of her vision converged on a dark tunnel and she felt herself falling.
~~/~~
As consciousness returned, Elizabeth assessed her situation, trying not to alert anyone in the area to the change. She was laying down, back pressing against something hard. Her arms were at her sides, but secured by some kind of soft restraint. Her legs appeared to be free. Nothing hurt, for the moment, and she wondered how long she would stay that way. Before she could consider a motive, a harsh ammonia smell was shoved under her nose. The smelling salts elicited a reaction she couldn't control, opening her eyes, trying to move away from the smell.
"Ah, good. We don't have much time," she heard a man say with a thick accent. "President Andrada, she's awake."
Elizabeth moved her head, trying to see where she was and gather any clues as to what was happening. "Andrada, what are you doing?" she asked, truly baffled. The confusion was keeping fear at bay.
"I have questions, Elizabeth. I know you're spying on me, and I want to know where your bugs are," he said, staring down at her while he towered over her head.
She was speechless. He was more delusional than anyone could have imagined. Before she could speak, he shoved a thick cloth over her mouth and a volt of electricity hit her side. Her scream was effectively muffled under fabric and the weight of his hand.
He leaned down and whispered in her hear. "These walls have been sound proofed, a precaution I took immediately after moving in to this office. But we can't be too careful," he said, his breath warm against her cheek.
Attempting to collect herself, she desperately needed air. Shaking her head, she tried to get her mouth and nose free, only to be rewarded by another jolt.
"I'm going to take this off, and you're not going to scream," the instructions were calm and measured. "Then you're going to tell me if you have listening devices in my home."
As the cool air of the room hit her face, she took hungry breaths of air. "This is an act of war," she started but was cut short as the man in fatigues extended a police style baton and brought it down on her left side.
"So is surveilling your allies," Andrada explained ignoring her distress. He paced around to the opposite side of the table from his henchman, bracing a hand by her head. "There are no bugs in here. I have it swept every day and after every meeting. No one can hear us, no one is coming to your rescue until I get answers."
His voice was becoming increasingly desperate. The man was unhinged. She needed to keep the situation under control long enough for Blake or Matt figure out she needed help. Playing into his delusion was the only way. "President Andrada, if the United States placed listening devices in your home, the State Department would not have knowledge of the action," she explained, hoping to play into his paranoia without pushing him over the edge.
"Do you take me for a fool?" he scoffed picking his hand up and slamming it down inches from her head.
Unable to control her reaction, Elizabeth jumped, tensing. The action notified her that she had injuries along her midsection. She shook her head, looking him in the eye. "If you were under surveillance, the CIA would have placed the devices."
A crazed smirk transformed his face, making him look genuinely psychotic. "That's right. And who do we have that used to work for the CIA? Who do you work for, but the former director of the CIA," he reasoned, attempting to keep his voice down.
Before she could reply, he back handed her, her head jerking violently to the left. His ring broke open a gash along her cheek bone, and blood slid across her nose. As she worked to formulate her next words, a buzz sounded at the door.
"That's Darna," Datu explained to his man referring to his secretary. "Keep her quiet," Datu instructed leaving the room.
Relief, she knew help was close.
The man in the fatigues hoisted himself on the table. He straddled her chest, compressing her diagram so she couldn't take in air. His knees dug into her side, and she felt a rib bone actually shift, clearly broken. His hand clamped over her mouth, muffling the whimper that came as the last of the air was expended from her lungs.
The silence unnerved her. She wondered if maybe the room wasn't as sound proofed as Andrada had assumed if he was concerned with keeping her quiet. Maybe she could get someone's attention if she screamed as loud as possible. A feat that seemed unlikely. Then a bang reverberated through the wall. Seconds later, the door opened and DS Agent Matt's imposing form filled the threshold. He was dragging the man off her instantly. Before she could say a word, Blake's face came into view.
"Madam Secretary, hang on," he said pulling out a phone.
"No, stop," she ordered, his finger hovering over the screen. "Untie me, we need to think about this before we call anyone." Hoping her steady words convinced her aide that she was still in control.
"Ma'am?"
"Help me up, we need to stop this insanity before it leads to an incident we can't walk back," she told him and looked at Matt. He and Frank had handedly subdued both men, both were seated in chairs, arms behind their backs. From the door, Elizabeth saw the President's secretary hovering.
Blake snapped out of his shock and started to work on her bindings. "Ma'am, I don't think you appreciate how terrible you look," he said trying to induce some levity to the situation. Once she was free, he helped her sit, noting the small intake of breath and the arm closely guarding her left side.
"Bring the secretary in here. We need to contact the Vice President," she told him.
When Andrada tried to protest, Matt controlled the reaction with a commanding hand on the President's shoulder.
Elizabeth swiped at her cheek, the back of her hand coming back bloody. Gratefully accepting napkins from Blake, she looked at the shocked woman. "You need to get Vice President Navarro here now," she told the terrified secretary. "Don't tell him anything, don't talk to anyone else." When she was certain the instruction was understood, she looked to her own aide. Wordlessly he understood, his job was to make sure only the Vice President was summoned and he wasn't told why his presence was required.
Looking around the room, Bess did her best to avoid looking at the men who had assaulted her. She tried to shift so she could stand, but was stopped short by the pain at her side.
Matt moved forward, "Ma'am, you need medical attention."
Nodding her head, her throbbing cheek bone and sharp pains confirmed Matt's assessment. "One thing at a time. We need to stop a war first," she said. Finally mustering the strength to stand, she noted her shoes were gone. "I just need to clean up before Navarro gets here," she said walking toward a side door, assuming it was a bathroom. When she opened the door, she saw a small closet of implements clearly designed to Andrada's version of interrogation. Understanding what this room was for, she shivered, considering what almost happened. Turning, she noted the stern faces of her agents. Scanning the room, Elizabeth's eyes landed on a car battery on a shelf under the table with a slim rod attached. Clearly the source of the shocks. Her hand moved to her side where the shocks had been administered and found her dress ripped. They had needed access to bare skin, but had least left her the dignity of remaining clothed.
One more door lay at the far end of the room.
Relief moved over her when she saw a small half bath and stepped in. Once the door was closed, Elizabeth looked in the mirror and was shocked by the sight. Of course she knew head wounds were excessively bloody, but the smears of blood made her look like she went ten rounds in a boxing ring. Blake was right, she looked terrible. Tears stung her eyes, adrenaline was wearing off and the reality of what happened to her was setting in. Trying to focus on the task at hand, she took a towel from the counter and gently removed the drying blood. The cut was still bleeding, but she could manage it.
By the time she exited the bathroom, she saw Blake and the secretary had returned. "Ma'am, we really need to call a doctor," Blake suggested.
She waved the suggestion off as she pressed the towel to her cheek with the other hand, and moved into the main office. "Matt, are they secured?"
The agent double checked the zip ties he had found and nodded his approval.
"Good, shut the door, and let's wait for the Vice President. We'll need to ease him into this."
~~/~~
"Madam Secretary, what happened to your face?" Navarro asked. The tone of genuine concern was encouraging.
"Mister Vice President, we have a serious issue to discuss," she started, motioning to the white chairs in front of the President's desk. It seemed like days ago she herself had been sitting, talk to the newly elected leader of the Philippines.
The older man looked around the office. "Where is President Andrada?"
"That's what I need to talk to you about," she started and gingerly sat in her own chair. She detailed the events that had transpired and let the words settle in. She noted some disbelief at first, but as they spoke she saw that fade away. It was clear the VP knew Datu was not a stable individual, but could have never guessed he would physically assault a foreign diplomat, let alone the United State's Secretary of State. Standing, she motioned to the side room, inviting Navarro to see for himself.
Upon seeing the Vice President, Andrada erupted. "These men attacked me! Imprisoned us in my own office!" he yelled.
"From what I heard, these men saved Secretary McCord from you," Navarro began but was cut short.
"It's lies! I have proof. The whole thing is recorded," he said. Everyone stopped and looked at the raving man. "Thea, I have this whole office wired. It protects me from spies. You can have the video files. Edit them to prove this administration was attacked by the United States. China will look favorably on such proof. I'll make sure you're compensated," he said, clearly offering a bribe in exchange for some creative editing.
Navarro stood straight, looking at his president. Elizabeth couldn't read the situation, but she trusted her gut. The VP was on their side. "Where are the files?" he asked.
Blake looked like he was ready to jump in and protest. Elizabeth subtly waved him off.
"There's a computer server in a false wall in the closet," he said, motioning to the small closet Bess had found. Everyone watched the older man move to the closet. He paused, just as Elizabeth had as he understood the implication of the contents of the workspace. Feeling around, he found a switch, dropping a fake panel, revealing a computer system.
A sick curiosity of what files may be contained on the computer compelled Elizabeth to step forward. Navarro looked at her as he opened timestamped video files. "What time?" he asked.
She looked at the clock on the wall and did some mental math. "About 10:15." She held her breath as he found the right time frame and played the grainy footage. The two watched it all play out as Matt, Frank, and Blake remained a respectful distance. When the shot showed the officer crawl on top of the table, crushing her diaphragm, she turned. Feelings of claustrophobia rose up like a wave threatening to crash over her. She wrapped her arm around her side protectively, remembering the sickening feeling of the broken bone sliding against itself. She left the room.
Navarro watched her go and stood over Datu. The paranoid man opened his mouth to continue his offer but was cut suddenly and violently short by a swift punch by Navarro. At a loss, he exited the room and closed the door again. "I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do," he said aloud, but was clearly not directed at anyone.
"Vice President Navarro," Elizabeth started having composed herself. "Does your constitution have guidance for dealing with a President who is unfit for office?"
As they discussed the options, pain crept up on Bess. She felt her fists clenching in response, her resolve fading. As usual, Blake was several steps ahead of his boss, anticipating her needs. As she waited for Navarro to conclude a conference call, Blake reentered the office with a young man in tow. She glanced at the pair and recognized the medical bag. Knowing most of the work was out of her hands at the moment, she silently relented and sat while the doctor assessed her injuries. "I need to contact President Dalton," she started. "Preferably not a video conference though."
A hiss escaped her when the doctor probed a particularly sensitive spot. "I can't examine you adequately here, wearing that," he told her awkwardly pointing at the torn, blood-stained dress.
She shifted, taking the offered phone from her aide while nodding her understanding to the doctor. Without comment to him, she took the phone, stood, and moved to a corner of the room. "Mr. President, we have a situation in the Philippines," she began.
"The Singapore Interchange?" he asked.
"No sir, the Philippine's upper chamber is calling an emergency session to declare President Andrada incompetent to hold office," she started.
"How did that happen? What did he do?"
"Kidnapping and torture of a U.S. diplomat," she answered her voice wavering, allowing the information to sink in. Silence made her look at the phone to make sure they hadn't lost their connection. She heard the unmistakable sounds of a phone being removed from speaker and the President picking up the hand set.
"Bess," he started slowly. "Are you ok?"
"Yes sir. Some cuts and bruises," she offered hoping the self-assessment would satisfy her boss. The use of her first name made it more personal and tears stung her eyes but didn't fall. The continuing silence indicated he was waiting for more information. "I think I'll need some stitches and am pretty sure I have a broken rib. Nothing life threatening." She added the last qualifier quickly, hoping to move on to the international implications. "Vice President Navarro is coordinating the appropriate authorities. We need to be ready to respond as soon as their senate convenes."
"Will the session be public?"
"No, but they're discussing making concessions to allow a U.S. representative to attend. It can't be me…" she trailed off. Stopping short of admitting that she was a victim. "Their authorities are taking official statements, due to privacy concerns, they're reading a redacted file for the record, but I'll make sure you get a copy of the complete report. I'll have Daisy work with their communications office to coordinate."
"We'll have Ambassador Curtis attend. And you'll get medical treatment before you leave." It wasn't a question or a request.
"I've been checked out, but will have Blake make an appointment—"
"Before you leave," he pushed further. "Do you think there is a risk of the Senate refusing Vice President's request?"
A small sigh moved through her. "Not likely. His paranoia will be his undoing. He has video surveillance set up, there's video proof of the entire thing."
"Let me know when you're on your way back. Have Daisy contact Russell after she's been brought in," he told her, his voice taking on a fatherly quality. "Bess…"
"I'm okay Conrad. My staff will keep Russell updated," she said and ended the call.
~~/~~
The plane accelerated down the runway and Elizabeth tried to ignore the pain the g-force had on her newly diagnosed broken rib. Little could be done to treat the injury but she carried with her some painkillers she planned to take as soon as she called home. She looked out the window at the night sky. The plane continued to climb. She waited for it to reach its cruising altitude. Her reflection in the window highlighted the five stitches and growing bruise. The phone rested in a tight grip. Navarro promised to call as soon as the official statement was ready. She was racing the clock now. She had to tell Henry before the news broke and the 24-hour media machine telegraphed to the world, including the McCords, that the Filipino president attacked the U.S. Secretary of State.
Breathing deeply, she opened the contacts and clicked on Henry's picture. The phone rang twice. They were twelve hours ahead, he was likely just waking up.
"Hey babe," he said no trace of sleep. Either he had been up or he was working to make her think she hadn't woken him up.
"Hey. Sorry for the early call," she started.
"Are you on your way to Singapore?" she could hear the familiar sounds of coffee making and wanted desperately to be there, with him in that moment.
A knot formed in her throat. Until that moment, she had duties to the nation, to the world that forced her keep it together. Hearing his voice, knowing there was nothing left to accomplish in the immediate future, she could feel the panic rise up. "Um," as soon as she started she knew he would know something was wrong.
"What happened?"
"I wish I could wait to tell you this in person, but the media will be reporting soon," she began. "Andrada attacked me."
"He what?!"
She took the time to explain what happened, sticking to the watered down version the media would report, knowing she would have to give him details when she got home. She was grateful he didn't push back. "I'm going to be fine, and will be home in about seventeen hours. The media will probably run with the story in 5… I need you to tell the kids."
"What is the media going to say?"
"Pretty much exactly what I told you. President Andrada forced an altercation causing minor injuries," she offered hoping it was still too early for him to put the pieces together.
"What haven't you told me?" he asked with an edge that he was desperately working on softening.
"He wanted information. Information that didn't exist," she tried to tread lightly. He was a former fighter pilot, he had been through POW training and knew the context.
"Interrogation?" he asked, and when she didn't confirm, he whispered. "Torture."
She didn't want to tell him the details when she couldn't be there to reassure him that she was fine. "He wasn't very good at it," she said hoping to prove she was going to be fine.
"That's not funny," he reprimanded. "How."
His training may have made the conversation simpler, it unfortunately also meant he knew the common tactics used when women were involved. "He didn't touch me that way. Some shocks and a few punches. My detail and Blake came in before it went too far."
They both sat in silence. Separated by eight thousand miles. "Henry, it's not like Iran. It wasn't a war zone. No one was killed," she tried to anticipate his concerns and ease them. It was foolish to think there wouldn't be some issues that would require processing, but it felt different.
"Just get home soon?" he told her. "I love you. What ever you need."
His understanding was harder to accept than his anger. Fighting back the tears, she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. "Ok," she said, laced with the tears. "I'll call when we land." Elizabeth ended the call before she completely lost it.
"Madam Secretary," Blake approached his boss meekly. "Daisy needs to touch base with you on some messaging. She also wants to know where you stand on appearing at a press conference."
It shouldn't have been a surprising request. She wasn't really thrilled with the idea of showing her battered face to the world, but knew it could be the fastest way to support the newly minted Navarro administration and cement their partnership. Unlocking her phone, she dialed her communication director's number.
~~/~~
Henry paced the well worn carpet outside of Russell Jackson's office. He was feeling resentful that he once again had the unenviable task of informing his two youngest that their mother's job had placed her in harm's way. He hadn't even had the luxury of telling his oldest to her face. Stevie had been in New York for the past week supporting the UN Ambassador for Russell Jackson. Jason and Allison had both decided to spend the day at home. They didn't want to be at school when the news broke.
He felt bad leaving them, but each one had retreated to their rooms, trying to occupy their minds. He hoped they wouldn't read the news stories or watch the special reports, but he also didn't want to shelter them from their life. Before he could start another lap, Russell moved through, offering a nod to his presence and opening the door to his inner office.
"Henry, I understand Bess will be home tonight," he started as he flipped through message slips.
"She is. She took off around six this morning," he started, but was anxious to get to the point of his visit. "I need a favor."
Russell stopped his rushed movements and looked up at the younger man. "From me?"
He cleared his throat, "Elizabeth, she didn't give me a lot of details. I know she'll open up, but I can't live through another situation like Iran. I need to know what she's dealing with. I need to know everything that happened to her."
Jackson nodded. He himself had intervened on Elizabeth's behalf as she was fighting PTSD. Their relationship had certainly grown and evolved since that time. He considered her a friend and an indispensable member of the president's cabinet. He needed her to be okay as much as Henry did, and if the unedited truth got her there faster, he was amenable to sharing the information he had. "Henry—"
Thinking he was about to be stonewalled, Henry jumped in. "Please, I have to know. I can't spend the day listening to the canned statements and the sanitized story."
"There's a video," Russell said. "It shows everything."
This news caused Henry to sink into a chair. Taking off his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the tears back.
"It's hard to watch. But if you're sure, I can get you cleared."
Only capable of nodding, Russell moved to his phone to handle the administrative side. Once the approval had been given, he opened up his government secured laptop and queued the video. He and Conrad had only see it themselves less than an hour ago, but it still left him disconcerted. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," Henry said and stood. Russell moved to his liquor stand and poured two glasses while Henry started the file. It was only 10:00 in the morning, but there were times where the dulling of the senses defied decorum.
Henry watched Datu carry his wife through a door and place her on a table. She was clearly unconscious. Another man followed and bound her wrists with white restraints which seemed to be secured to the table. He held his breath when the man took a large knife and cut into her dress. For one sick moment he thought she lied to him and she had been sexually assaulted. He paused the video and sat.
Russell glanced at the screen to see what event was causing the trouble. As he handed the whiskey to Henry he knew what was going through his head. He had a brief moment of panic himself. "They didn't touch her. Not like that." He wasn't able to use the term rape in context of Elizabeth, even to assure her husband that it hadn't happened. The fact that it had been a possibility was too much.
Taking the glass, Henry downed the amber liquid in one drink and pressed play. He instinctively knew when she was awake and saw her reaction to the smelling salts. When he saw the metal rod he knew they had a picana and what it would be used for, and it wasn't long before Elizabeth experienced the shock. He watched her back arch in response to the electricity hitting her exposed skin where her dress had been cut. Her head thrashed while she tried to free her mouth from the gag Datu was holding in place. His gut clenched watching her reaction.
Being grateful there was no sound, Henry understood she tried to reason with him. Her reward was a blow with the baton followed quickly by the backhand. He thought the worst part may had been her straining against the bindings while blood ran across her face until he watched the man straddle her. He was completely undone. And then it was over, her agent was tackling the man that Henry wanted to kill with his bare hands, and Blake was releasing the restraints. When he sat up, he saw her shielding her side and wiping the blood from her face. It was more than he could bare. Leaning back on the chair, he closed his eyes. Russell refilled his glass.
All told it was less than twenty minutes, but it was twenty minutes that would have lasting impact. For both of them.
~~/~~
Walking through the front door. It was nearly midnight and she wasn't sure if the kids had given up and had gone to sleep. Matt followed closely behind her, placing her bag and purse in the entry way. It was a gesture she usually refused, but he hadn't been taking no for an answer. Her entire detail had been particularly attentive. As she turned to thank him, he was already backing out of the house. Turning back, Henry was standing an arm's length away. Before they could greet each other, Allison rounded the corner.
"Is that mom?" she called out before meeting her mom's eyes. Without thinking, she launched herself at Elizabeth.
A small grunt exited her mouth and she stumbled slightly. Henry moved swiftly to stabilize the pair, keeping his eyes locked on his wife's. She quickly covered the pain and wrapped an arm around her daughter. "Hey noodle, I missed you."
Jason came into view but hung back. He had been secretly binge watching the news report, trying to read between the lines. His imagination had been filling in the details that weren't being reported. When Ally moved away, he stepped forward but wasn't sure if he should hug her. He suddenly felt very afraid and tears filled his eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked, still not moving toward her.
"Jason, yes, sweetie. I'm ok," she said moving to him. When she enveloped him, he lost it. "Hey, shh. I'm ok." At a loss, she looked up at her husband for help.
"Let's let mom take a shower and get settled. Why don't you warm up some dinner for her?" he asked Allison. Jason wasn't one to express his emotions and the moment couldn't be understated. As Allison moved to the kitchen, Henry laid a hand on his son's shoulders.
The boy leaned into his dad. "I'm sorry," he said and moved back wiping at his eyes.
"Don't be sorry, it's ok," Bess told him. "I'm ok."
"Did Matt kick his ass?" he asked between hiccups.
"Yeah," she answered and kissed his forehead. "Go help your sister, I'll be done in minute."
Henry draped an arm around her waist, and he watched Jason retreat. "He's been keeping it bottled up since I told them. Stevie wants you to call. She wanted to come back, Russell even offered to send another intern to replace her, but I told her she should stay in New York. The UN meeting is tomorrow morning. She'll be home tomorrow afternoon." She had been proud of Stevie being selected to support the UN ambassador and would have lived with guilt if her situation would have robbed her oldest from the experience.
Making her way up the stairs she took Henry's hand, leading him to their bedroom. Sitting heavily on the edge of the bed she looked up at her husband. He gently placed his hands on either shoulder and took a look at her face. "You don't look ok," he assessed cupping her chin.
"I will be," she admitted and moved to stand.
Henry pulled her up, took the hem of her shirt and started to lift it. Elizabeth hesitated at first, but understood, he needed to see her injuries for himself. Lifting her arms, she let him pull the shirt up and off. Fighting the urge to cover the bruises, she let him trace the welts from the picana. The bruising around her broken rib had turned an angry mosaic of purple and red. Moving to her hand, he noted the bruises on both wrists where she had strained against her bindings. He wanted to get on a plane to Manila and strangle the man who had made the marks. Finally looking in her eyes, he knew his anger was floating dangerously at the surface.
Elizabeth softened and pulled him in for a kiss. She let him deepen the kiss. Letting her presence reassure him. When he released her lips, he rested his forehead against hers. "I watched the video," he finally admitted.
"You watched the video?" she asked with a sense of betrayal.
"Russell gave me clearance," he said as she moved to the dresser to get new clothes.
"Russell saw it? And Conrad?" It felt like a violation, but it also made her feel relieved that she wouldn't have to explain the events in detail.
"Yes."
"My staff?"
"I don't think so." He moved to the bathroom and started the bath. He knew she had said shower, but wasn't sure she should could stay standing much longer. When he heard her on the phone with Stevie he knew their moment was over.
The rest of the night was a tense between the two, but the kids didn't seem to pick up on that tension. They were both happy to see her and know that she was in fact ok. When they headed back to the bedroom, he wasn't sure what she needed. She stood for a moment looking at the pile of pillows while he pulled on some flannel pants. Moving to her side he touched her wrist, causing her to jump, and then hiss in pain.
As he backed away, she leaned in. Relieved, Henry enveloped her and then picked her up. Carrying her to her side of the bed, he gentle set her down. As he moved away, she pulled him toward her again. Their lips connected and he felt her need for comfort and more. They both sought the safety of their relationship.
~~/~~
Bess took a breath as she walked down the hallway to the press room. She was greeted by Conrad and Russell in the side room. In a gesture of uncharacteristic familiarity, Conrad took her into a hug. Elizabeth had considered him a surrogate father at times. Allowing the moment to shelter her, she gripped his lapel and let a few tears fall. As she pulled back, he gave her one last squeeze and stepped back. "I'm glad you're okay."
Nodding, she had to acknowledge she wasn't entirely okay at that moment. "I will be," she told him honestly and then looked to his chief of staff. "Russell, you two didn't have to come down for this."
"We wanted to support you and give you an update before you go out there," Russell said.
"Did something happen in the Philippines?" she had been having nightmares that Datu would be allowed to continue as president and finish what he started.
"Something good," Conrad said immediately, putting her mind at ease. "Your written testimony has encouraged five women to come forward and testify against his abuse. Three families have told the media that they're planning to return home to the Philippines after leaving the country and going into hiding from Andrada. There will likely be more in the days to come."
"Looks like you made the world safe for democracy again, Bess," Russell said with a smirk.
She nodded her head and turned toward the door. Daisy was prepping the media from the podium. Elaborating on the details so she wouldn't have to. When she sensed the room settling, she knew the questions had been exhausted and they were ready for her. She self-consciously touched her cheek. She knew pictures from this day would be archived in history, but based on the information she had just received, she knew her willingness to stand up for herself would have the greater impact than how she looked. Taking a shallow breath to ease the stress on her rib, she steeled herself and took a step out into the flashing cameras and shouted questions.