She arrived home to find Henry, Alison and Jason playing basketball in the freezing cold. It was already dark and their faces glowed pink under the outdoor lights. She didn't pause to change or even go inside; she simply dropped her bags and joined in, precariously maneuvering on two inch heels.
The ground was slippery with ice and snow, and yet somehow she and Alison manage to dominate the game - almost entirely due to Ali's consistent shot. She was fault proud of herself for playing so well, in heels when she lost her balance as her foot slid along the ground. Fortunately, she slid straight into Henry who caught her laughing as she somehow managed to still pass the ball to Alison who made a perfect shot.
"You're ruining your shoes, babe." Henry said laughing.
"I won't need 'em in prison." She said, shocked by her own words. Henry's face went blank and he pulled her upright.
"It's too cold." He told the kids. "Mom's freezing. Let's go inside."
She blinked back tears as he walked away from her, wrapping his arm around Alison's shoulders. "Now, tell me again why you won't go out for the team, Noddle?"
"Dad!" She said exasperated. "Those girls have played together forever. It's really hard to be the new kid."
She followed them inside, picking up her bags. As soon as she stepped into the warm house, Jason faced her, his eyes wide with fear.
"Mom," Jason said anxiously. "What did the President say?"
"Nothing." She said reaching out and pulling him against her. "I didn't talk to him."
"But what's going to happen?"
She glanced at Henry. "I don't know."
"Hey, c'mon, buddy. We talked about this. Mom was really brave and we have to be too. Pestering her with questions isn't going to help anyone."
"You can ask questions, honey." She said to Jason, wrinkling her brows at her husband. "He can talk to us."
Henry sighed audibly, "Babe, that's not what I . . .I think we've got enough stress right now."
"Don't fight!" Alison interrupted. "Please!"
"Noodle, we aren't fighting." Henry said, reaching out and putting his arm around her. "Mom and I are just . . ."
"Everything's going to be okay." Elizabeth interrupted.
"How can you know that?" Alison asked.
"Because I do." She paused and with an arm still around Jason, moved closer to Alison and Henry. "Your Dad and I have had tough days before, and we are always okay. I mean, he got shot down over the desert and was missing for four days and I thought it was all over, but it wasn't. He came back to me."
"And when Stevie was three she had pneumonia so bad and your Mom was on assignment and I couldn't get ahold of her. It was awful. Stevie was in a little oxygen tent and they told me to get a priest." He paled at the memory. "And the priest comes walking down the hall, and your mom burst in, practically knocks him over and says, 'Where's my baby?"
"And your Dad and I have had hard days between us too. You know that. You saw it when I first got back from Iran. But we always come back to this." She was firm. "Team McCord is everything. And I know you guys are hurt and angry over how hard it's been, but we are still team McCord. No matter what happens."
Henry reached out over Alison and held her by her shoulder. "That's not going to change." He said.
"Even if they send me to prison."
"No one is going to prison." He said angrily. "Mom will not be going to prison." He leaned forward and kissed her. "Now, see if you can't find some dinner for Mom. I bet she hasn't eaten."
Alison and Jason ducked away and went into the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone in the family room.
"Do you know something, I don't, Henry?" She asked.
"Elizabeth. You aren't going to prison." His voice waivered, and she considered him thoughtfully.
"Okay." She said softly. "Okay." She understood it was a thought too terrifying for him to consider and so he pushed it away; rejecting it out of hand.
It should have been a stressful evening filled with heaviness, but other than the tense first conversation when she got home, it felt pretty normal. Alison and Jason seemed to accept their reassurance. It was impossible for Ali to hide her worry and stress, so watching her daughter's calm, relaxed demeanor comforted her greatly. What ever else she'd screwed up, at least she and Henry had created a stable enough base that their children still believed them when they said that everything was okay." - even if they were lying about it.
Even as she and Henry crawled into bed that night, she felt relative ease. The night before had been filled with anguish and turmoil and dark memories of some of their toughest days, but tonight she drifted to sleep easily.
Why the whole thing should have taken them both back to the days before she quit confused her at first but talking it over at the therapists office, she could see that the days they faced now, were linked directly to those difficult days.
Had they made the right choice?
Once she'd made peace with leaving The Company, she hadn't ever really looked back. Although, he hadn't gone about it gracefully, Henry has pushed her to see that Baghdad wasn't something she had ever really wanted. She had been flattered and desperate to right horrible wrongs, to heal her own wounds over 911 and to take control over an organization that was spinning further and further out of control. They'd fought endlessly over it, until finally he had said, "Babe, just tell me what it is you want?"
At first she'd gone with all the easy answers. "I want you to support me!"
"And I'm only supporting you if I agree with you?"
"No! That isn't . . ."
"Elizabeth, you are the one who insisted on a desk job! You are the one who demanded they limit your trips! I never pushed for any of that."
"No, you saved it all up for now!"
"God! Babe! Why are you fighting me! You want to run Baghdad? This has been your career goal all along? You've never once said so! And we talk about everything!"
"Don't raise your voice!" She whispered fiercely. "You'll wake the kids!"
"Why? Why can't you just talk about it? Why are you so angry that I'm upset?" He lowered his voice. "If I came home and told you that I wanted to reup or go back to combat duty, you'd be upset!"
"I wouldn't threaten to walk out!"
"Hey, I never said that. I am being honest with you. You want to start lying to each other? You want me to tell you I think it's a great idea?"
"Henry. . ."
He reached out to her, a hand on her arm. "Baby, this isn't even what you want!"
"Don't call me that! I'm not a child! I don't need you to tell me what I want or how I feel!"
"Fine!" He was seething by then. "Fine. Go. Leave us. Leave me. Keep running! But it's never going to change what's happened! 911 will still be there - an open wound you refuse to even look at. They are all still dead, and the people you've committed so much time and energy to are still going to be headed in the wrong direction. Nothing you do is going to change that, but trying to force it will change you!" His voice was shattered. "It's already crushing you!"
"Stop." She whispered, tears gathering in her eyes.
"And one thing that won't ever change, Elizabeth - I love you. Always. Even if you move to the other side of the world charging at windmills! I will love you until I die - after too, if I'm allowed. But I am never going to lie to you - even if it hurts us both. I do not want you to go. And I don't believe you really want to either!"
She'd opened her mouth to speak but Jason woke up crying. She'd gone to him, rocking him back to sleep in the rocker that had once belonged to Henry's great grandmother. She tried to picture herself on the other side of the world, missing Jason's first steps or words. She tried to imagine him waking up at night without her there to comfort him. She tried to picture day after day ending, and not coming home to Henry's embrace.
And in the end, she had to admit the truth. She had to choose. And it wasn't that she had to choose between her career or family - Henry would never demand that of her - she would never demand it of herself. But she did have to choose on what side of the line she stood. Would she play a role in the tactics of torture? Would she follow her country down this treacherous path?
***MS***
"So you chose to leave the Company." Her therapist said.
"Yes." She glanced down but looked up when silenced settled over the room, meeting Dr. Sherman's eyes. "I suppose you want more than a one word answer."
"It's your hour." She responded with a smile.
"It was a tough time. We were learning how to fight. And Henry wasn't . . . He's more relaxed now. He's more comfortable with just letting me go."
"He trusts you."
"He trusted me then, but wasn't as good at communicating it. And I wasn't doing a good job of taking care of myself. 911 was really tough on us. It was difficult because I felt guilty for not predicting it and people we knew, friends died."
"It was a difficult time."
"Things changed after that and I felt helpless to stop it."
"It?"
"The direction we took as a Nation. The direction the CIA took. I can't manage wasted energy and effort. If you set aside the moral issues, torture is ineffective and a waste of resources." She shook her head. "It still frustrates me that no one could see that. All the lives wasted and all the good people ruined by it."
"Which brings us to the here and now." Dr. Sherman said.
"Maybe if I had taken that job, I'd be just as bitter as Jane. Maybe I would have made the same choices she did."
"Have you talked to Henry about this?"
"He has no perspective when it comes to me."
Dr. Sherman laughed at this. "He is clearly a fan of yours but he knows you well. The story you just told proves it. He understood you didn't want to go. He understood it before you did."
"He would say that I would never make the choices Jane did."
"And what do you say?"
"I don't know. I didn't live her life. She couldn't talk to her husband the way I talk to Henry. They didn't have that kind of relationship." She drew in a shuddering breath. "And I never ever would've hurt my own friends the way she did.i can't fathom changing that much. So many good people were . . ." She struggled for control.
"Can I offer my observation?" Dr. Sherman asked, leaning forward.
"Yes, please."
"You are one of the most intelligent people I've ever met. I'm sure you've heard that from the time you were young. And your relationship with your husband is nothing short of miraculous. I know it's hard fought. It would have to be with two independent intelligent thinkers. And your career path has led you both into places of great darkness and tested you."
"Is this intended to cheer me up?" She asked.
"That's not my job." She settled back in her chair. "But there's is one more piece to the puzzle."
"What?"
"You glide through this darkness carrying around a deep secret." Elizabeth's eyes grew wide at this. "You know what I'm talking about?" Dr. Sherman asked in a stage whisper.
Elizabeth nodded her head, " Yes." She whispered her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
Dr. Sherman nodded her head. "That's how I know that Henry is right when he tells you everything is going to be alright. It is. It's also why sometimes you struggle. It's why you are here now with me. You, Elizabeth McCord, are filled with hope." Her doctor said with a broad smile.
"Yes." She admitted as tears fell. "I am."
***MS***
She was trying to rekindle that hope now, but she had awoken at two a.m. seized with panic. Henry slept peacefully, so she crawled out from under his protective arms and stared out into the darkness. She was trying to imagine her way through a life altered by prison. It was hard not to have a panic attack when she thought of how it would impact her innocent children; how it would wound Henry.
She tiptoed into the bathroom splashing her face with water and trying to calm and steel her nerves. She studied her face in the mirror trying to imagine the impact of prison. She could see no way out; she was guilty. She had discussed classified information with Henry and she'd admitted it publicly.
She stepped out of the bathroom to discover the bed empty. Henry, however, was not in the room. She stood in the hallway listening and was drawn downstairs by voices - Henry's and a faint female voice. Wrapping a robe around herself she encountered the improbable scene of her husband and Isabel sitting across from each other in the front room. They were engaged in what appeared to be a serious conversation. She moved to the bottom step and they both looked up at her. Isabel rose from where she sat on the couch but Henry remained where he was, sitting across from her on the chair, a look of resignation on his face.
"Babe, you should get some sleep. Go back to bed." He said, rubbing his face with his hand.
"Are you drunk?" Isabel asked turning toward him incredulously. "That isn't going to work!"
"Excuse me?" She said standing at the edge of the couch. "Go back to bed? What the hell is going on? Why are the two of you meeting at three in the morning? I gotta tell you guys, I am really over the whole secret plot thing."
Isabel looked at Henry, waiting as he studied his wife. He leaned forward shaking his head.
"Well, I'm interviewing second wives for when you go to prison and Isabel topped the list." He said uncharacteristically bitter.
"Jesus, Henry!" Isabel said turning away from him. She moved toward Bess with arms open wide to embrace her. "Hey! Are you hanging in alright? You were amazing at the hearing! I stood up and was cheering my tv."
Elizabeth accepted her friend's hug and said, "I'm not feeling too amazing right now. Mostly I stressed out and perplexed. You having a clandestine meeting?"
"Yes." Isabel said sitting back down. "Henry?" She said after a long minute of silence. "Would you please say something?"
"She's going to argue and I am exhausted. We've been arguing on and off for two days now. I don't have it in me." He glanced at his wife. "I think it's just easier to be an asshole, and give her a legitimate reason to be pissed off at me."
"Mission accomplished." She said glaring at him.
"Look, babe, I am stretched about as thin as I can manage." He rose and stood in front of her, articulating with his hands. "I'm doing what I need to do right now, and you are going fight it tooth and nail, but this is happening."
"What?" She asked, folding her arms across her chest.
"We've been talking," Isabel said gently. "And if you are indicted, we have a plan." She glanced at Henry.
"He is going to make you say it." Elizabeth told her friend. She studied her husband angrily daring him to speak. He glanced at Isabel and spoke without preamble or hesitation.
"Bolivia, Venezuela, Morocco or Micronesia are all viable possibilities. But you never learned Spanish so I'm leaning toward Morocco." He told her.
"Seriously?" She shook her head unable to process what he was implying. She turned to her friend. "You are going along with this?"
"You are entirely too pretty for prison, Bess." Isabel told her. "And Henry would end up trying to bust you out, and the next thing you know I'm in charge of raising your kids. I suck at raising humans. I'll screw them up and that will weigh heavy on my conscience."
"So this is about you." Elizabeth said.
"Well, everything is."
Elizabeth sank into the sofa. "Henry you can not be serious! This is ridiculous!"
"This isn't a discussion Elizabeth. If you get indicted, this is happening. I don't give a damn about your opinion on this. I'm not asking you. I am telling you. You are NOT going to prison."
Elizabeth turned to Isabel. "I suppose you agreeing to help smuggle me out of the country means you've forgiven me."
"I didn't say that." Isabel said rising and grabbing her coat and purse. "Look, it seems like you two are going to have a nice little fight right now, and I'm still in recovery from all the years listening to my original set of parents fight." She leaned forward, hugging Bess and kissing her cheek. "I love you and all of this stuff is bullshit and you know it." She turned to Henry. "Don't worry, I'll talk to my guys. It's done. It'll be set up by tomorrow." She kissed Henry's cheek.
"Thanks." He said to her. "And any expenses. . ."
"Don't worry about it! We can settle up when the time comes." She hesitated. "Look, far be it from me to give you two advice, but, Jesus, Bess! This is one screwed up situation! There's no way you'd ever stay rational if it were flipped around and it was happening to Henry! Hell, you'd have burnt that hearing to the ground!" She sighed. "If things go bad, we'll do what needs to be done, okay? All of this, every bit of it - even you turning me over like you did, all of this is Juliet's fault, and I'll be damned if you take the fall. Hell, if George were still alive, he'd grab you in the middle of the night, kidnap and get you somewhere safe tonight!" She nodded at them. "I love you both. Goodnight."
Neither of them moved. She remained where she was, watching Henry who stood his eyes locked on her. Finally, he exhaled and folding his arms over his chest said, "So, go ahead. I'm listening."
She laughed at this. "No, you aren't! You just told me you weren't."
"No, I'll listen. I'm just not changing my mind."
"So, we become fugitives? We're going to raise Jason and Alison in a foreign country? And what about Stevie? We make her choose?" She lifted her hands out toward him. "Henry? You cannot possibly be serious? What about your Dad? What about your sister? C'mon!"
"What about them? Are they going to come see you on visiting day? We going to have Thanksgiving with plexiglass between us? That's your plan?"
"You'd give up your career? You'd give up everything!"
"No!" He glanced around realizing that he'd nearly shouted the word. "No," he repeated softer. "There's nothing if you aren't with me." He paused, a catch in his throat. "I'm not . . . I swear to God, babe, I'm not kidding. I've never been more clear about anything in my life."
"Henry. . ." She said soothingly. "Henry, we'll figure something out."
"No! I did figure something out!" His voice was brittle with barely contained rage. "Isabel is right. This whole thing is bullshit. They are trying to tear you down for goddamn political bullshit reasons, and I am not going to allow it. There's no justice or honor in this!"
She rose and stepped toward him. "Okay, you need to just take a second and think about this."
"I have not thought of anything else for the last forty-eight hours. Don't try and mollify me like I'm overreacting! You can pretend all you want around the kids, but you are terrified! It's not like we can deny it. That ship sailed." She opened her mouth to respond but he held up here s hand. "I'm not blaming you! It was the right thing to do, but if they don't do the right thing - if they try and lock you up over this - then I owe them no obedience or loyalty! 'If a law is unjust a man is not only right to disobey it - he is obligated to do so!'"
"But . . ."
"You gonna argue with Thomas Jefferson?" He said. "Listen, I'm. . ."' He paused drawing in a deep breath. "I know I sound like some dictatorial prick, but you know that's not how it is between us. I value your ideas above all else but this is different. I keep thinking of you pinned down under Fred's body, bullets all around you, so scared and . . ." Tears filled his eyes. "It's cost you so much and hurt you so badly, and they are going to allow you to be punished over it; because of me? No! Hell no! I will NEVER accept it. Never. So pack a bag sweetheart. I will let go of every damn thing on this earth - our houses, our careers, our country but I am NEVER letting go of you!"
She had no words to respond to him. It was all she could do stay upright. She simply wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. He clung tightly to her, his whole body shaking.
"Okay." She said softly into his ear. "Okay."
She had no argument to give. Henry was consistently truthful. Everything about it was wrong and tainted by vindictive politics. Had she violated the law? Yes, but at the time she believed that the President of the United States might be a murderer. Did she deserve prison? No, and she had world-renowned religious scholar to back her up.
"Alison's Spanish is actually pretty good." She said trying to soothe him. "And Bolivia is beautiful."
He released his tight grip on her, looking into her eyes. "I'm sorry I acted like such a jerk."
"Oh, please! I put you through a hell of lot more than that!" She laughed half-heartedly. "I've completed messed up your entire life so badly that you are going to flee the country and go underground and you are apologizing to me for being snippy? Really?"
"Whoa! No, no, no. Isabel's right, babe. You don't own any of this. This belongs to Munsey and Juliet."
"Really? They got so pissed off at Carruthers they decided to publicly crush him? This is the result of my pride, Henry. Even you can see that."
"Baby, it is 3:00 in the morning - again. I cannot get into yet another argument with you over guilt and blame. Just accept that I disagree with any scenario in which you paint yourself with devil horns, okay?"
"Likewise." She leaned against him, suddenly exhausted. "Babe, I'm too tired to climb the stairs. I'll just sleep right here."
"I got ya." He said lifting her up, and carrying her up the stairs.
"I can walk." She said sleepily.
"Are you going to argue about every single thing I say?" He asked her.
"I'm not arguing." She said with a grin. They'd reached the bedroom by then and he lowered her onto the bed.
"You might just be the most contrary woman who has ever lived." He sat down on the bed beside her, clicking out the lamp. He lay down close to her, pulling the covers up over them both. The moon shone bright through their window.
"You called Isabel?" She asked softly.
"She texted me right after the hearing. Wanted to know if we had an exit strategy." He glanced over at her. "She forgave you right away, hon. She understood."
"I'm closing my eyes. You got any other secret plans I need to know about before I try to sleep?"
"Other than abandoning our lives and country? No. I think that's it."
"Good."
He wrapped himself around her, his arms protective, and she found herself swallowing down tears of anguish and gratefulness.
"I'm so . . ." She whispered. "Henry, I'm afraid."
"Me too, baby." His arms tightened around her, and she turned in his arms to face him.
"I love you." She whispered. He did not respond with words, and her fears faded into the background as he kissed her. There was a desperation in his touch, reminding her of the night before she'd left for Iran. They believed it was their last time together, then too.
Afterwards she fell almost immediately asleep, too exhausted to worry or stress. She slept nestled against Henry, and never even heard her alarm go off at six. Instead she opened her eyes, much later, to the sound of Henry's voice.
"Elizabeth? Sweetheart? Wake up, babe!"
She glanced at the clock shocked to see it read 9:13. "I slept through my alarm!" She sat up.
"Me, too. I woke up at 8:30!" He leaned over her, kissing her. "You were sleeping like the dead. I couldn't wake you."
"I better call the office." She sat up, throwing back the covers.
"I already did, but babe, Dalton's on the line." He handed her Blackberry to her.
"What does he want?" Her eyes grew big.
"I don't know. I just talked to his secretary. She'll put you through."
"It's too soon for a decision." She said. "It can't be that."
"Talk to him." He pointed at the phone.
Henry sat on the edge of their bed watching as she yes-sirred her way through the conversation. She stared at the phone in her hand, after she'd hung up.
"Babe?" Henry asked with raised eyebrows.
"He wants to talk in person." She said looking up at him.
"I'll go with you." He responded immediately.
"Not at the White House." She said softly. "FBI."
"They can't just lock you up." He said, his face white. "Can they?"
"I guess I'm about to find out." She said rising up out of bed and crossing to the closet but he caught her hand as she passed him, and pulled her into a tight embrace.
"Everything will be okay."
"Uh huh." She said fighting back tears and unable to say more.
"Babe?"
"I better get dressed." She said, wiping her tears away, and breaking from his grasp. He held onto her hand, his long arm stretched out even after her fingers slid from his; his love for her so tangible that she could still feel the warmth of it even as she stepped into the elevator that led her inside the dark, lowest level of the detention center of the FBI.