"You have to send them my finger, make it look like i'm dead."

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Hey guys! Glad you liked the first chapter. Here we go!

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Fitz went through the next few days in a fog. He woke up, put on his suit and went to numerous meetings. Cyrus attended them as well because he knew Fitz would not be able to concentrate. Fitz just sat in the meetings staring blankly to no certain spot on the wall and nodding ever so often. Giving the occasional "uhhmm" and "I understand" when necessary. It was Cyrus who gave competent answers.

After many meetings Fitz had a chance to just sit in The Residence and think. Every time he was alone he started to cry. How could he give the ok to kill her? What about their plans? What about Vermont...their future?

Cyrus walked into The Residence to see Fitz, a whole bottle of Scotch sitting next to him halfway empty. It was only 3:45pm and he was slumped in a chair facing the city. Cyrus walked over to him and placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Get your shit together, you look like and smell like a bar at 3 in the morning. You have a country to run and you need to get yourself sober. Nobody likes a drunk." He said as he capped the bottle and dumped the rest of the scotch in a plant.
"Cyrus...you think she's dead yet?" Fitz said, half drunk slurring his words. "What do you think they did to her?" His eyes pleading with Cyrus, begging him silently to deny what he knows in his heart to be true.

Cyrus sighed and wiped across his face and scratched his head. "I don't know kid, I don't know what to tell. You want me to baby you? Not going to happen. You made a decision, she suffered the consequences. If you want to be babied you barking up the wrong tree scooby. Now pull your shit together and act like the man I put in office." Cyrus looked Fitz in eyes and spoke in a low tone. "She is dead, it's over." He stood up and walked back out The Residence.

Fitz stood up, wobbled and grabbed the arm of the chair for balance. Looked up to the sky, closed his eyes and said a prayer for the woman he loves.

XxX

Olivia woke up on a hard cot. She opened her eyes to see she was transported to what seemed to be a holding cell in some kind of old building. The floor was hard and cold solid concrete. The walls seemed to be painted green in some areas and blue in others. She wasn't sure how long she was out but she knew it had to be a while for them to transport her. The back of her neck was sore and she assumed that's where they injected her. The cell door opened in Ian appeared.

"Hello sunshine, don't you look lovely." His tall frame leaned against the door as he licked his lips. Olivia cringed on the inside.
"We are going to let you shower and doll yourself up, once we sell you, you need to be presentable." He pushed off the door and stalked over to her. He reminded her of a cat hunting it's prey. Usually was attracted to men like this, but his eyes...something wasn't right about his eyes. They looked vengeful, menacing... haunting.
"You have to make it look like i'm dead. If he finds out i'm alive, you won't get anything from this." She said in a low voice. She hated doing this to Fitz but it was for his own benefit, he couldn't find her. Truth be told she didn't want him to find her. She hated to admit that, but if he thought she was dead, America thought she was dead they wouldn't come looking for her. She was a distraction to him and he to her. Was this an extreme measure? Yes, but she needed this. He needed this.

"How will I go about this? Make you look like you are dead when you aren't?" I an sat closeto her on her cot and pushed her hair behind her ear.

Olivia sat back, away from his touch. "You have to send them proof...a body part...you have to send them my finger. Make it look like i'm dead."

Ian looked at her with a wicked smile on his face. "You want me to chop off your finger?"

"Not mine, if you send him my actual finger he will get people to examine it, and they will know I am not dead. You have to steal a dead woman's finger, dip it in acid so it is not readable by DNA processes. He just needs to see an index finger from a black woman's hand. She needs to be around 30-33 years old and have my same complexion. Go to a morgue or a science school and find cadavers, get the finger, dip it in acid to peel off and fingerprints and anything they can use to trace it. I will give you a ring he has given me, place it on the finger and send it to him. Then we can sell me."

Ian stood, but not before kissing her forehead. "You are genius, I will get that finger and send it to him. In the meantime, get yourself cleaned up." Ian walked out, when he reached the door he turned around and winked at Olivia.

When he was out of earshot she stood and mumbled "asshole."

XxX
3 Days later…

"CYRUS!" Fitz yelled as he held a box in his hand. "Where the fuck is Cyrus!" Fitz was frantic, he couldn't believe it.

"Mr. President, what's wrong?" Cyrus asked as he rushed around the corner to where Fitz was standing. Fitz frantic looking, he pulled Cyrus in an empty room and told him to look in the box.

Cyrus looked in the box and was shocked at what he saw. It was a finger...her finger.

"They killed her Cyrus, they killed her!" Fitz wailed, and as the thought plagued him more he threw up his stomach contents in the nearest trash can. Meanwhile Cyrus stood there, speechless and staring at the contents in the box. Damn kid, I'm sorry Liv.