From the moment she set foot in the bunker, Karen knew something was wrong. The Vice President was taking initiative that Wayne never would have advocated, making all his decisions with a determination that nobody but her dared to refute. Worst of all was Tom. He may have blackmailed her into resigning earlier in the day, but that was one thing. He was not the type to support an attack on a country that had staunchly advocated against the terrorist attacks in the past few weeks and even offered their insight in the attempt to resolve the threat.
Determined to figure out what was going on, she cornered Tom in the hallway after he left the conference room.
"I want to know what's happening right now," she said, watching the Vice President in the other room out of the corner of her eye.
"This isn't the time, Karen," he said, trying to get around her, but she blocked his exit.
"I'm not letting you go anywhere," she affirmed. He met her eyes, and seeing her resolve, he realized he would have to tell her.
"Meet me in the supply closet at the end of the adjacent hallway," he said. "Be there in five minutes."
Karen nodded. She walked away and occupied herself with some paperwork for the next five minutes, although her mind was nowhere near concentration. After impatiently checking her watch a few times, she made her way to their meeting place.
She arrived quickly and slammed the door behind her. He was already in there.
"What is going on here, Tom?" she hissed.
"Karen," he began, "the situation is very complicated."
"What's complicated? We're about to go to war based on ridiculous pretenses. The Vice President keeps glancing at you like the two of you know something I don't, but when I asked you for an explanation you dragged me into this supply closet. So what the hell is going on?" She folded her arms and stared at him defiantly, waiting for an answer.
"Listen," he said more quietly. "The Vice President is not being completely honest about the motivations at play."
"What are you talking about?!?" she asked, ever more impatient with him.
"Hamri Al-Assad did not try to kill the president," he said, hesitantly making eye contact with her. "In order to stimulate an attack on Assad's country, the Vice President blamed him for the assassination attempt without any hard evidence."
"Oh my god," she murmured.
"Nobody can know I'm telling you this," he continued. "The Vice President would eliminate me if he thought I wasn't an asset to him. Unfortunately, I was forced to support his claim that Assad was responsible…"
"You were forced?" she asked, furious.
"I didn't have a choice, Karen," he insisted. "There's nothing I can do right now. If the Vice President even knew we were having this conversation—"
The closet door suddenly opened from the other side. In a desperate attempt to hide the true nature of their conversation, Karen grabbed Tom's face and kissed him on the lips. The staffer on the other side of the now opened door saw this and immediately slammed the door shut, slightly disgusted.
Karen quickly ended the kiss and stepped away from Tom. They both shook their heads, trying to wipe the sensation of the awkward moment from their minds.
"—anyway," Tom continued, "That's…all the information I have for you."
"Thank you," Karen said, without making eye contact.
She quickly opened the door and walked out into the hallway, gaining distance as quickly as possible. Tom, however, remained in the supply closet for a few minutes, reliving the experience.