Pt II
-Aaron-
Aaron listened closely as the rebels muttered among themselves, his heart sinking, glad that at least the majority of the delegation couldn't understand what was being exchanged in the far corner of the hut. He ran a hand over his face, sighing as his tired mind ran through the scenarios again. He knew Hannah's mind was also in overdrive beside him, likely running through more dangerous, more guns-and-flashbangs types of scenarios compared to his.
"What are they talking about?" Hannah's voice broke his train of thought.
"They're talking about killing us." Aaron responded straightforwardly. Hannah fell silent again and Aaron watched the General carefully. There was a lot at stake here, the killing of such a high-profile group of Americans on a peaceful trade mission was unprecedented; never mind the relations between America and Cuba, even on the international stage, the repercussions would outstrip any short-term gain the ELP would gain. No, they would get out alive, the odds were good for that, as long as no one did anything rash to provoke the rebels-.
"Excuse me?"
Damn it.
"Hannah," Aaron hissed. Wells was a good agent, but a terrible soldier. Her unconventional, lone-wolf tactics may be good in covert ops, but her diplomacy and political sense left much to be desired, especially for an agent employed by the White House.
"What are you…?" But Hanna wasn't listening anymore. Aaron shot a quick glance at the rebels, watching as they turned to address the sound from their captives that dared to interrupt their conversation.
"Would you consider releasing the women and the elderly…?" Hannah asked innocently. Bravo and his rebels approached slowly, as the agent continued to talk.
Here we go. Knowing Hannah, she probably had a good plan, it would just have been nice if every once in a while, she would bring Aaron in on it rather than leaving him to clean it up after she was done and finished like some kind of an inattentive babysitter.
"The assistant to the National Security Adviser has a big mouth. Maybe I should shut it." Bravo snarled, now towering over them.
"She didn't mean anything by it." Aaron told them quickly in Spanish. Seriously, would it have been so hard for her to give him a heads up? This was a high-stakes, high-tension situation. There was no reason to rile up the rebels, FBI agent or not.
"Maybe I'll shut yours too!" Bravo shouted. Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you, a little White House Official killing pegged to your name. Nothing shores up credibility than the blood of the US President's National Security Adviser on your hands.
"Stop, please." Phillip Cross stood, arms raised. Aaron watched the scuffle that ensued, wincing slightly as the businessman took a gun to his face. The other members of the delegation cowered, scared to even draw a breath as Cross was dragged outside.
Aaron turned to Wells, "Hannah, you need to be careful. Once they figure out who you are, you'll be dead." He warned in undertone.
"They're not going to. I'm getting outta here." The agent replied adamantly. Aaron pressed his lips together, turning back to watch the other rebel soldiers stalk menacingly among the captives. The White House would've seen that ransom video by now. God, they were probably so worried. Kirkman would be feeling awful, blaming himself for letting something like this happen even if there was nothing he could have done to foresee this. And Emily… He could picture her anxious face, eyebrows knitted together, lips pressed into a thin line, holding herself taller and straighter than usual, quiet unless her input was required. He still remember Afghanistan, when he had received the unexpected call from Emily. He had been glad that she had managed to get through to him with all the chaos on both their ends. Her soft voice in his ear had grounded him, giving him the resolve to gather his composure and carry on.
"I'm guessing the Bill of Rights wasn't on Governor Royce's summer reading list." President Kirkman remarked as he moved to take a seat at his desk. It had been nearly two weeks now, and Aaron still was unused to seeing the former HUD Secretary in the Oval, and even more unsettled to realize how comfortable he had gotten strolling into the Oval Office as Chief of Staff.
"The IAC-," Emily started, stepping forward and Aaron followed closely behind, the faint smell of her perfume teasing his senses.
"-The Islamic American Coalition." Aaron butt in, the winced slightly. What was it about her that made him want to feel so self-important?
"Uh-huh,"
Emily shot him a quick glance that he ignored, still berating himself for the slip-up. He was a professional for goodness sakes.
"They're planning a peaceful protest outside City Hall in Dearborn, but they have obvious concerns."
"Sir, I think it's time to tell the Governor in no uncertain terms that we-," Aaron started but he was cut off by a calm Emily.
"What, with another phone call? No, we tried that, look how much good that did." Emily pointed out evenly and Aaron was struck again by how quickly she was picking up the ropes. They began to bounce ideas around, Aaron thinking out loud,
"Well, we don't have many friends in the state, maybe someone from the AG's office-,"
"I can do it." Emily said confidently and Aaron turned quickly to look at her.
What?
"It has to be someone we can trust," She continued but Aaron was already tuning her out.
No. No, it was too dangerous. She may have held her own in the White House brilliantly in the last few days, but there was no way he was sending her out there to Michigan. He watched as the President pondered Emily's proposal, a sinking feeling in his chest as Kirkman smiled and nodded.
"You sure?" The President asked.
"Absolutely." Emily answered definitively with a smile that was not reflected on Aaron's face. He pressed his lips together tightly, unable to hold the skeptical look on his face at bay for much longer. But, the President did know Emily better than Aaron did and if Kirkman was sure…
But it didn't stop him from calling her before their estimated take-off, hoping to reach her before she left the ground in DC, and again when they received the call to report to Command Ops. As he waited outside the Oval for Kirkman to appear, Aaron stared down at his phone, his thumb hovering above the "call" button on the screen. It wouldn't hurt to try one more time, just in case they had landed early. Besides, who knew how long they would be caught up in the PEOC. Better to be safe than sorry. He had almost made it to the last ring before her voice mailbox when Kirkman stepped out. Aaron stuffed his phone away, almost guiltily as they walked to the elevator to take them down.
The moment his phone started ringing in his pocket, Aaron began to drown out the President's words, excusing himself to a quieter hallway to answer.
"Hey," He said gruffly, relief washing over him when he heard Emily's voice on the other side.
"Looks like I missed 3 calls from you while I was in the air?" Her tone was all-business, probably expecting some urgent update on Michigan or the White House. Not Aaron being…concerned about the situation.
Suddenly, Aaron felt stupid, his mind going blank for a second, struggling to find the words that would bridge the gap between personal concern and a professional (presidential) matter. Maybe the third call had been a bit too much.
"Yeah, I just wanted to say about Michigan…" He stammered. Jesus, he hadn't had this much trouble getting words out since he'd accidentally broken his abuela's favorite vase kicking around a soccer ball with his cousins. When he was 10.
"What about it?" Emily sounded so calm and put-together, it almost wasn't fair.
"Well, uh, it's-it's a situation out there and…" Aaron pulled his shoulders back as he strolled down the hall, desperate to regain some sense of composure and control over his uncertain voice, "and people should be… careful… when they're in a situation, you know?"
There was a slight pause on the other side of the line, "Aaron, are you worried about me?" Emily asked, realization evident in her voice as she caught on.
"What? No, no-," Aaron said quickly. Busted. Maybe this conversation would've been better. Well, given the way he was acting right now, it was probably good she couldn't see how flustered he was. Aaron needed to figure out how Emily managed to keep it together all the time.
"Look, I'm just saying… Good luck out there, all right?" He finished and hung up quickly, feeling foolish. Seriously, what was it about her?
-Emily-
Emily was finding her judgement in the last two days to be seriously flawed. She had accused the Cuban President of having traitors in his midst, failing to defer to own President who was just a step in front of her. And recently, she had been hoping (praying) that the President would accept the ransom option, the non-starter, but only option that would get Aaron- the trade delegation- back home quickly and safely, ignoring all the political concerns and risk that Bravo wouldn't actually follow through. She really hoped that between Kendra, Lyor and the Generals, they would be able to find a solution that the gun-shy Kirkman would be able to agree to. And soon, because Emily could feel her worry begin to gnaw obsessively at her, fraying her ends, drawing her closer and closer to that same bathroom, puking her guts out from the anxious knot in her stomach.
She listened as Kendra, then Lyor listed their options again, further proving Kirkman's reluctance to stick to a sound decision, risking all the lives for another few hours without a plan in place. Emily sighed, "Okay, if it's ransom then it requires Congressional support. Senator Sanchez is our power broker here." Emily had spent the entire five hours she had been home going over ransom contingencies.
"She's on her way." Lyor assured her, watching her carefully. Kendra was doing the same and Emily realized that they had come to a stop in front of Aaron's office. A lump rose in her throat.
"We'll get Aaron back." Kendra said confidently, with a glance over her shoulder at the empty office.
"Yeah, safe and sound." Lyor added, making Emily question just how well she had been keeping her worry at bay in the White House.
"Let's make it happen." Emily said quietly, not quite meeting her colleagues' eyes. While their assurances did little to calm the nervous knot in her stomach, it was comforting to know they recognized her tension and were working to help her through it. Kendra and Lyor nodded, leaving quickly.
Emily stood in the middle of the hallway for a second, closing her eyes against the wave of nausea that swept over her. Almost 30 hours since she had last seen Aaron. The deadline for the ransom was approaching fast. Had the delegation been fed? Were the rebels beating their captives? Almost unconsciously, she turned and walked into Aaron's office, an immediate sense of calm flooding over her. Absentmindedly, she walked over to his desk, her fingers tracing the edge of the wood lightly as she walked around to his chair and paused. If she inhaled deeply enough, she could detect faint traces of his cologne, sharp and comforting. His desktop was neat, almost spares. In his absence, all files had been cleared from his desk, only a few Moleskins and low-level reports stacked to one side ontop his spare padfolio. An organized pile of reports from his deputy and papers requiring signatures were front and center of on his desk, awaiting the NSA Adviser's return. Emily fingered one of her favorite blue pens that Aaron kept "forgetting" to return to her. When he came back, she would buy him a dozen new ones of his own.
She looked across the office, noticing how the sun fell across the floors in a gentle light and smiled inwardly as she remembered how she had once teased him for angling his desk so weirdly in the corner, until he had smirked proudly and turned on the TV, revealing how the desk was at the perfect angle to watch a game without catching any glare from the windows.
"You're welcome anytime." He had told her, and Emily had actually taken him up on the offer on occasion, when the game had preceded the comfort of the couches in the Chief of Staff office.
Emily allowed herself one more quiet moment to herself in his office before squaring her shoulders and walking back out into the chaos.
…
-Aaron-
He was remembering how they had exchanged texts while she had been in Michigan. He had fought the urge most of that afternoon after that disastrous phone call, but eventually, Aaron had given into his curiosity.
Sitting in Havana now, with Hannah gone, Aaron had really let his mind wander. Michigan had been when he truly realized his admiration for Emily Rhodes went far beyond a professional respect. He worried about her for reasons other than containing a news cycle involving a scuffle between White House Senior Staff and a rebellious Governor.
"Emily, we need to pull you out." He told her, bracing his hands on the desk on either side of the phone.
"No, that's not happening. I'm not done here yet." Emily responded firmly and Aaron held back a groan. She was almost as stubborn as he was.
"Look, it's too dangerous with the National Guard refusing to federalize." He insisted, "You need to come back and we'll figure out another plan like you said before."
"Aaron, we can't let them win this easily! If I go back now, it weakens Kirkman's position. We'll be telling the other 49 states that all it takes is a determined governor and a good relationship with the National Guard and then soon we'll have states flipping militias nationwide. I need to stay here and work something out. The President will agree with me." Emily said assuredly. Aaron clenched his jaw. There was a good chance Kirkman wouldn't back down. Politically, Emily was right. Logically and from a safety standpoint though…
"Let me go get the President." Aaron told her. Kirkman had been pulled aside by his wife moments before Emily dialed in.
He listened as Emily tried to convince Kirkman, knowing that Kirkman was likely to respond the same way Aaron had before. Her intentions were 100% true but she was about to be stuck in a war zone.
"No, I'm not willing to win a political fight if it puts you at risk. It's not worth it." Kirkman told her resolutely. Aaron nodded his agreement. Definitely not worth it. Emily didn't need to now it was him that fed those exact words into Kirkman's mind just 45 minutes before. It had been a cheap and dirty move, leading the President like that, especially when the former HUD Secretary looked to him for guidance and Aaron had taken advantage of that, but it had been necessary.
But she was so determined and if the politically savvy side of Aaron was in charge, he would know that Emily's idea of a sit-down was their best option and far too tempting for the Governor to refuse if presented the proper way.
Kirkman glanced up at Aaron, his eyes too trusting for a man in Washington and Aaron felt guilty. His apprehension conceded to his logical Chief-of-Staff side and he grimaced, nodding his approval. Emily's calls had been sound up to this point, and all other present options were too forceful and would result in serious blowback on the White House.
He wondered if Emily felt as worried watching the ransom video as he had been that day, gazing at her calm face on television, surrounded by the National Guard and a hostile governor. Between their calls and texts, Aaron had been keeping an eye on the TV whenever he had a spare chance, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, even if she was just in the background of Royce's press conference, just to see if she had at some point been hurt or handled.
The door burst open and Aaron was jolted from his thoughts as Hannah was dragged in.
Damn it.
Aaron groaned quietly. This was not going to be good.
"Hey, are you alright?" He asked quietly as the rebel leader stormed off to the General.
"I'm fine." Hannah said, her anger thinly veiled beneath her calm. Aaron listened as the rebels continued to talk amongst themselves angrily until another more irritating voice sounded from a far wall.
"We have nothing to do with her! You should separate the cooperative from the uncooperative."
Florida Congressman Blutner prattled on.
"Hey Congressman, why don't you sit down and shut up!" Aaron called roughly. Who was this guy kidding? Congressman Blutner was going to get them all killed unless he learned to hold his tongue. When they got back to DC, Aaron was going to make sure that man never stepped foot in a 5 mile radius of the White House ever again.
"Jackass," He muttered, for Hannah's ears only.
"I know, but he's not the problem, Aaron." Hannah said in a low voice, "Cross is."
Aaron threw a glance over at the businessman who was sitting quietly against the wall, nursing his broken hand against his chest. "What are you talking about?"
Hannah grimaced, "He's working with them, Aaron. I heard them talking outside."
Aaron let her words sink in, rubbing his knuckles as he pondered this unexpected development.
Really, all he really wanted to do was get back and have that drink with Emily.
...
-Emily-
"Mike, I need some help tracking down a guy Aaron mentioned… A Charles or Charlie-?" Emily approached the Secret Service agent breathlessly, having parted ways with Lyor moments ago as he hurried to run down his list of contacts he had in common with Philip Cross.
"Chuck Russink? This way please, Ms. Rhodes." Mike was already moving and Emily hurried after him down the twisting hallways that she had never even known led anywhere.
"How do I not know these paths-?" Emily panted as Mike flung open a door she had never noticed before.
"Trust me, Ms. Rhodes, if you think you know the White House… Secret Service and the NSA Adviser will always know it better." Mike said in his deep and infinitely wise voice. They descended a short staircase, Mike rapping unexpectedly gently on the door at the bottom of the stairs before swiping his ID and beckoning Emily in as if she were about to be led to the White House's best-kept secret treasure chest. Inside was a small room, tidy, almost cozy in a way the other West Wing offices would never be. There was a table in one half of the room and multiple screens heaped on top of each other in the other half, a dozen or so servers lining a wall. A quiet hum emanated from that side of the room and it would've been comforting if it weren't for the fact that those servers had the power to decipher any code, track any one person and detect any hack. So this was where Aaron was holed away whenever she couldn't locate him in the main hallways of the West Wing.
Emily continued to take in the room with wide eyes as Mike began to make introductions.
"Emily Rhodes, Chuck Russink. Chuck, Ms. Rhodes needs some help with the Cuban hostage situation."
Emily nearly jumped as she finally noticed the young man leaning back in a chair in front of the screens. She quickly stuck her hand out, "Pleasure. You can call me Emily."
"Nice to meet you. Love to be of any help possible. Thanks for knocking so lightly, Mike." Chuck lurched out of his chair to stand and greet the Chief of Staff.
"You bet, Chuck." Mike said with a hint of amusement in his voice, "I'll leave you to it then. Ms. Rhodes, if you need any help finding your way back, I'll have Peter look out for you." Mike said, referring to another Secret Service agent that frequented the outside of Emily's office. He closed the door securely behind him on his way out.
"Please," Emily gestured for Chuck to sit back down, "I was told by Aaron that you have a knack for… connecting the dots from people to situations…" She began, a little uneasily. She had never done anything like this before and honestly, all the black screens with the green flashing code was a little intimidating.
"If you're asking me to dig into someone, then I just need the name and I suppose we know it's related to Cuba so that's one variable we can plug in as well." Chuck told her, wheeling himself to one workstation.
"Okay, it's Philip Cross .Hannah just signaled us, we thinking he might be involved somehow." Emily said, watching as his fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up databases at an amazing speed. Chuck looked young, but it was clear that he was a genius in his field of work. In fact, he probably wasn't even that much younger than Emily, maybe a couple years, if that. She definitely got that awkward vibe that Aaron had mentioned to her. A different kind of awkward than Lyor was, Chuck was aware of his awkwardness and it showed, until he got into his comfort zone, then he was efficient and effective. Focused. Brilliant by the looks of it.
"So you're Emily Rhodes." He said casually and Emily tore her eyes away from the screens running through data points to look back at the young FBI agent.
"I'm sorry?"
A computer beeped and Chuck moved to insert a line of code before looking back at her thoughtfully, "No disrespect, actually, Aaron talks about you a lot." He said offhandedly.
What was Aaron doing talking about her in this removed, secretive room?
"Um…" Emily replied, taken aback by this revelation. Where was this going?
"Oh, no, It's nothing bad. He just really admires you, you know?" Chuck turned back to his monitors, scrolling through results as he chatted away, "Made me want to meet you in person with all the times he mentioned your name- wait, here, I think we got something."
Emily blinked, still dumbfounded by Chuck's seemingly harmless chatter.
"Cross' passport shows 6 visits to Cuba in the past two years." Chuck reported, oblivious to Emily's bewilderment from his previous words.
"To do what?" She asked quickly, returning to the issue at hand, but not before tucking her thoughts away to be revisited at a later time.
"I don't know, but I also ran his cell." Chuck wheeled back over to the other workstation. "Get this, Cross called Ramon Bravo 12 times since August."
"His captor? That doesn't make sense."
Chuck paused, "Unless they're in on this together."
"Cross is a billionaire. He doesn't need the ransom." Emily pointed out.
The FBI agent turned back to face her and she could see the gears turning in his head, "Exactly. Which is why the ransom could be a ruse." Emily listened as Chuck hashed out his theory, slowly understanding why Aaron had moved this kid from the FBI to the White House. Chuck Russink really was brilliant.
"Is there any way you can dump Ortega's phone too?"
"Yeah, I can look into it and I'll send the results to you as soon as I get it."
Emily nodded, resisting the urge to clap Chuck on the back like a coach to his athlete.
"Good work, Chuck. Thanks." She turned to leave, making a mental note to herself to keep tabs on Chuck. This guy was going places.
"Hey, Emily?" He called out and Emily turned, her hand on the doorknob.
"Yeah?"
Chuck leaned back in his chair, folding his hands across his stomach, "Aaron's a good guy." He said deliberately, eyebrows slightly raised.
Emily smiled back at him, "Yeah, I know."
…
"I need you to be straight with me." She told him and he looked up, eyes welcoming as he drank in the sight of her, and her, him. Back when he still wore suspenders to work every day, she had always looked forward to seeing him at his desk at the end of the day, jacket off, sleeves rolled up.
Emily closed her eyes, her fingers gripping her glass.
"It's like we flipped a switch. And I'm not a switch flipper."
The bar was noisy, but not obnoxiously so. Just the way they liked it.
"Your boss is the most powerful man in the world. And he's going to do things that you might not agree with. And you need to be ready for that, because it is your job. Which, if I haven't mentioned before, you happen to be pretty damn good at."
Seth hated coming here. Said it was always too uptight, borderline pretentious. He preferred the more congenial atmosphere of a local pub to relax. Emily always disagreed, finding pubs to be too raucous at times.
"I'm saying that I don't know."
She lifted her glass to her lips, unintentionally catching her eye on a handsome man across the bar, chatting with his friends. He flashed her a smile, but she looked pointedly away. Tonight was not going to be one of those nights.
"And to think I was worried about you."
She had been so worried the last few days, drowning in a sea of apprehension with no one to turn to. The last thing she wanted to do after the last few days was go back to her dark apartment, no matter how tired she was. There was something comforting about the bar, the business casual setting with people chatting away, their conversations based on the same continuing assumption that tomorrow was a new day, full of bright new opportunities no matter what went down in the earlier daylight hours.
"Hey, whoa, are at least going to let me catch up?"
Emily's hand paused midair, her mouth agape as she stared up at him in surprise. A comfortable smile danced across his lips as he took her empty glass from her hand and lifted it up for the bartender to see, signaling for two more. He was the last person that she expected to see here and the only person she ever wanted to see in their bar.
"You should be at home." Her voice came out as a sharp retort.
"I could say the same to you." He returned, setting her refilled glass in front of her, giving it a small clink before taking a hearty gulp. Emily also drank obediently, although her sip was much smaller than his.
He raised an eyebrow at her as she continued to stare, not quite believing her eyes. "Don't worry, I went home, showered, and got a change of clothes." He told her. Then his mocking expression softened, "But I promised you a drink and you damn well better believe that I'm going to follow through on that."
"Aaron," Emily sighed as a happy warmth filled her that had nothing to do with the scotch in her hands, "Aaron, I-,"
And before she could realize what was happening, his hands were gently cupping her face as he dipped his head down towards hers and he was kissing her, his tongue dancing lightly around hers, his scent enveloping her in the most delicious way that made the rest of the bar fade away. She felt the most she secure she had felt in the last three days, maybe even in the last few months as she melted into his touch.
He pulled away too soon, and Emily realized that somewhere in the middle of the kiss her hand had come up to wrap around his wrist, her fingers squeezing lightly as if to make sure that he was really there, safe and sound.
"I'm sorry," He whispered, his breath tickling her lips.
I'm not.
"That's all I've been wanting to do for the past twenty hours."
Oh.
"Only twenty hours?" Emily teased, her voice still a little unsteady as she released his wrist.
Aaron's eyes twinkled, his hands falling from her face, "Well, there was a time before that when I was more concerned about getting through the hostage situation alive. You can't blame a guy for trying to be logical about the way his mind processes things."
Emily shifted back in her seat, her hands returned to her tumbler of scotch. Aaron brought up a good point. They had to be logical about the way they went about this, and kissing openly in a bar wasn't one of them.
"Look, Aaron," She began but his hand came up to rest over hers, stopping her before she could say more.
"Emily, wait. We don't have to have the whole conversation now. I know I sure as hell am not in the right state of mind to be thinking this through clearly. I know you probably aren't either…" He caught the look in her eye, his mouth twitching in sympathy, a brief flash of guilt passing over his features, "I ran into Seth earlier when I first got back to the White House." He said in explanation and Emily let out a sigh.
"Let's just… Let's just have a drink. Enjoy that you got us the best spot in the bar," (the only spot that allowed for equal coverage of the sports screen and live news briefings) "and just chat. Or not. We can just sit here and watch the news in silence."
Emily snorted before she could stop herself and Aaron grinned over at her. They both knew that neither of them could make it through a single news cycle before blurting scathing comments or ridiculing the lousy coverage. But she had to agree with Aaron's suggestion Too much had happened in the last 48 hours that all she wanted to do was just relax and forget that she ever worked in the White House. She had her best friend back, and it was probably good to just revel in that for a bit before either of them said anything that couldn't be taken back.
She nodded giving him a light smile, taking a sip before turning her body to face him, crossing her legs so her foot dangled in the space between them, her knee inches away from his.
"So, Havana."
Thanks everyone for the reads and reviews! I always love to read what you have to say or any inputs and suggestions. Speaking of which… there is a possibility for a part 3. Thoughts?
