Sonya Deville knew why she had been selected to be the designated survivor during the State of the Union address. She was the youngest and least important cabinet member in the administration, meaning that her presence wouldn't be missed. No one would be looking for the Secretary of Housing and Urban Development. Outside of the government, hardly anyone would have even heard of her.
A secure room at a secret government installation would be Sonya's location for the night. The reason behind having a designated survivor was to ensure continuity of government in the unlikely and unthinkable situation of the President and everyone else in the line of succession being killed in some kind of attack or accident. It was a piece of administrative nonsense, Deville thought, and tonight the short straw was hers.
"Here you are, ma'am," Ronda Rousey, Deville's Secret Service agent said as she opened a heavy wooden door and stood aside to allow Sonya to enter the room. Despite repeated instruction, Rousey steadfastly refused to stop addressing her in the formal manner.
Sonya entered the room. There was a long wooden table in the centre with chairs all around it. There were a couple of couches for more comfortable seating, and there were two large televisions on the far wall. One was already turned on, showing the State of the Union. President Bischoff was already speaking. Most importantly for Sonya, there was a bottle of red wine and two glasses on the table. "Now this I approve of," she said, walking over to pick up the bottle, wanting to read the label.
"Compliments of the President, ma'am," Rousey said before stepping back out of the room to give her principal some privacy.
Picking up the bottle, Deville smiled. It was a kind gesture from Bischoff. He knew the designated survivor duty was going to be boring, and that Sonya would rather have been at the Capitol Building to hear the address in person.
Still, it could be worse, Sonya thought as she sat down. She looked towards the door as her wife entered the room. Amanda Deville, a former dancer, model, and actress, had no interest in the State of the Union, or much of an interest in politics. What she did have an interest in was spending time with her wife. Until a few days ago, she had been away filming the latest movie she had been cast in. They both hoped this one would be her first success in film, although realistically it was doubtful, given its low budget and lack of an established star in the cast.
"I hope we didn't miss your line," Amanda said, referring to Bischoff's speech.
A year into her role as Secretary of Housing and Urban Development, all of Sonya's many hours of hard work were worth one line in the speech. One line about a potential future policy idea to allow people living in social housing to purchase their homes from the state at a discounted price. Still, it was better than nothing, Deville thought. "We won't have missed it, Mandy," she said warmly. "He's only just started, and the line is closer to the end than the start."
"Well, I say we have a glass of wine while we wait." Knowing there would be no objection, Amanda poured for them both.
"Thanks," Sonya said. Accepting the glass, she tried the wine. "Mmm, lovely," she opined.
Amanda sipped from her own glass and nodded her agreement. "So, I was thinking Barbados." It was a resumption of an earlier conversation about an upcoming vacation. They had been interrupted earlier back at home by Rousey's insistence that it was time to leave. Sometimes the Secret Service were the ones who gave the orders.
"Sun, sand, my wife. There's not much else I need," Sonya smiled, half listening to the ongoing speech on the TV while they talked. "If you'd like to go to Barbados, we'll do it. I could use the week off, that's for sure."
Deville's phone started ringing in her pocket.
"Maybe we can go without that thing," Amanda said, knowing the request would be in vain. As a cabinet member, even a junior one, Sonya was always busy. Even at this time of night, the call would no doubt be about work.
"It's Alexa," Sonya said. Alexa Bliss was her trusted personal assistant. They had worked together for several years, and Deville couldn't imagine trying to do her job without Alexa at this point. She answered the call as Amanda just about managed not to look sour at the interruption.
"Lexi, hi."
"Hey," Alexa said in greeting. "I'm going over your appointments for next week. There are a couple of changes I think we should make."
They spent a couple of minutes talking through the proposed alterations, with Sonya agreeing to them. Alexa was a much better administrator than her.
"So what's it like where they took you?" Alexa asked when the business was concluded.
"It's alright. The President sent wine, so how bad can it be?" As she finished the sentence, Sonya saw the screen showing Bischoff's speech go black. After a moment, the TV network's logo appeared, then the coverage bounced back to a studio with a male and female presenter sitting at a desk.
"Fail," Amanda chuckled as the male presenter informed the audience that the signal from the Capitol Building had been lost. At the same moment, Sonya heard a dull, very distant rumble.
"Lexi, I'll call you back," Deville said, ending the call and looking at her wife.
Amanda had heard the sound too. Her eyes narrowed as she wondered if she had been mistaken.
Then things started happening very quickly. The door flew open and Rousey charged into the room, flanked by two male Secret Service agents. All three of them wore the most serious of expressions.
"We need to go, ma'am, now!" Rousey ordered, practically grabbing Deville by the arm to force her to get up.
"What the hell?" Amanda shrieked, frightened.
"What's going on?" Sonya demanded of Rousey, only marginally calmer.
"We need to go!" Rousey repeated.
In the pit of Sonya's stomach, she knew something was very wrong. Ronda had never spoken to her like this before, and one of the two men was shepherding Amanda towards the door, ignoring her objections.
Deville was able to shrug her arm out of Rousey's grasp. She hurried over to a door at the far end of the room, knowing that opening it would give her a view outside, in the direction of the Capitol Building.
Yanking the door open, Sonya's mouth dropped open. Her eyes widened and it felt like her heart stopped beating. Where the Capitol Building was supposed to be, there was a fireball glowing brightly in the night sky, with a mushroom cloud rising above it.
Behind Sonya, Amanda could also see out of the open door. She screamed hysterically at the apocalyptic sight.
"Get away from the door!" Rousey yelled at Deville, grabbing her around the waist and hauling her out of the way of any potential danger.
Legs feeling like rubber, Sonya couldn't process what was happening. How had there been such a huge explosion at the Capitol Building? How would that possibly happen? Had anyone been killed? Surely there had to be casualties. Where was she being taken?
"Sonya! What's happening?" Mandy screamed from up ahead, absolute terror in her voice.
Before Sonya could formulate a response, they had both been bundled into the back of the car they had arrived in. One of the men jumped into the driver's seat and Rousey got in the front passenger's seat. The car was speeding off before her door was closed.
Gasping for breath in her panic, some instinctive part of Sonya told her to get control of herself. She needed information. "Ronda, what's going on?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"Explosion at the Capitol Building," Rousey said. It was stating the obvious, but she apparently didn't know anything more.
"Where are we going?" Sonya cried.
No answer came. Instead, Rousey put a hand to her ear, listening to her ear piece.
Beside Sonya, Amanda was hyperventilating. Sonya put a hand on her knee to try and calm her down.
"Sonya. Oh my God," Amanda gasped, grabbing her hand for dear life.
"Fighter is in transit," Rousey was saying in the front, speaking into a microphone at her wrist. Fighter was the code name the Secret Service had given Sonya, thanks to the two MMA fights she'd had before pursuing politics as a career. The Secret Service agent visibly stiffened, and Sonya heard her take in a sharp breath.
"Understood," Rousey said in a sombre tone. "Eagle is gone."
"What does that mean?" Amanda demanded, freaking out again.
Sonya knew exactly what it mean. Her blood ran cold and tears filled her eyes. President Bischoff was dead.
"Understood," Rousey said again, before turning in her seat to face Deville.
"President Bischoff is dead?" Sonya asked, needing the horrendous confirmation even though she already knew.
"Everyone is dead," Rousey said in a heavy voice. The Capitol Building is gone. There can be no survivors. Ma'am, you are now the President of the United States."
"What?" Amanda shrieked as Sonya felt the world swimming around her.
Tyres squealing, the car made a right turn at an intersection, abruptly changing course from whatever the previous destination had been to a new one.
Sonya felt like she was going to throw up, and it had nothing to do with travel sickness. Everyone in the Capitol Building was dead. Her President; her cabinet colleagues; her friends. If she had been there, she would have been dead too. It was all too dreadful to comprehend.
In what seemed like moments but was actually minutes, Sonya and Amanda were entering the White House. They said nothing to each other, as they were too shocked to find words. Sonya sensed that her wife was hoping none of this was real, that she was going to wake up at any moment. It wasn't going to happen.
"This way, ma'am," a man in a suit said to Sonya, setting off along a hallway at a brisk pace. She had never seen him before, and had no idea who he was. Amanda walked on one side of Sonya, with Rousey on the other.
As they walked, Sonya realised they were heading towards the West Wing, where the offices of the President were situated. She wanted to scream at everyone to stop for a minute. She needed time to try and let her brain catch up with what was happening. She felt sick and disorientated. How did people expect her to be able to cope with this?
The party stopped in front of another man in a suit, this one older and grey haired. Again, he was a stranger to Sonya. Before she knew what was happening, the man had thrust a bible into Amanda's hands. "Hold the bible please, ma'am," he said, then addressed Sonya. "Please place your hand on the bible."
Sonya reached out and placed her hand on top of the thick book. It occurred to her that she was about to be sworn in as President wearing a t-shirt with 'Put your hair up and square up' written on it, and a pair of jeans. There had been no need to dress formally for the designated survivor duty, so she had put on one of her favourite shirts that she usually wore to the gym. To these people, she had to look completely ridiculous. How were they supposed to consider her their President? How was she supposed to consider herself the President?
"Repeat after me," the man said. "I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States."
Sonya repeated the words back to him in a monotone, acting more on autopilot than out of conviction. "I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States."
Sonya looked at Amanda, whose face was pale, eyes wet with tears and mouth open in shock.
"Mandy," Sonya said, unsure what she was hoping her wife would say or do.
"My god," Amanda breathed. "Sonya, you're the President of the United States."
A/N: Welcome, everyone, to my newest project. I have been planning this one for some time, so I hope you'll all enjoy it!
Quite a night already for Sonya Deville, I think you'll agree. She's just been sworn in as President. What do you think will happen next? Leave your thoughts in a review!