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Francis and Garret walked up to the security check-in as Doug rolled his luggage up. "Doug, exactly how long do you think we'll be staying here?" Garret asked, seeing the large suitcase on wheels and the duffle dangling from his other hand.
"Just preparing for every occasion, Mr. President." Doug sighed. He glanced at Francis.
"Guys, let him through. He's practically my daughter's other half. He wouldn't hurt her." Francis said, motioning for Doug to bypass the security gates. The two guards looked unsure, but let Doug pass when Garret nodded his head. "Have you heard anything on the wire?"
Doug shook his head. "Nothing, sir. But, I couldn't sleep, so I took the chance to look through the media stories. Wrong move. They're really running with this." He stated as they started back towards the residence.
Garret clapped Doug's shoulder. "It didn't help that the police haven't found James's attacker yet. We know virtually nothing about this person, and he is holding her hostage. The reporters are trying to report something, even if it's just speculation." He glanced back when his name was called from down the hallway. "Excuse me. I'm sure Frank could show you where you'll be staying."
"Go on, Garret." Francis reassured him. When he was a safe distance away, he tugged on the lapels of his jacket. "Didn't get the State office, but I've apparently been hired as a tour guide now." He glanced down at the suitcase. "Is she?"
Doug nodded. "Let's get to the room.
James listened to her father and boyfriend talk to each other. When she heard a door close and felt the atmosphere change, she started poking around above her head. "Doug, get me out of here. It's like the Sahara Desert inside here."
She lowered her hands when she heard the zipper, light slowly creeping in. When the zipper was pulled all the way around and the flap was pulled open, she stretched her legs out of the suitcase, sighing in relief when her muscles could finally return to their relaxed positions. "Thank you." She breathed before standing up. When she saw Francis, she threw her arms around him, glad when his did the same. "Hi Daddy."
"Hey, Darlin'." Francis breathed into her hair, cupping the back of her head. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, thankful that he was holding his baby girl once again. "Are you okay? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." James breathed before he pulled back, cupping her face in his hands. "I'm doing really well, actually. The leg doesn't even hurt anymore."
Francis smiled and kissed her forehead. "Good." He pulled her back to his chest before looking over to see Doug laying out his clothes and organizing his things. "I'm assuming you'll be staying in here."
Doug pressed his lips into a fine line before James spoke. "It's part of the plan." She stepped in front of Doug, keep Francis from staring daggers at him. "It's just for a few days. After tonight's party, the plan is set into motion. Doug already has a couple people working on this. It's going to work, Daddy. By Sunday night, you'll be preparing your first announcement as President."
"Well, I can't argue with those circumstances." Francis smirked. "I should probably go let your mother know you have arrived." He pulled away, pointing at both of them. "Make sure no one is the wiser. This whole thing blows up if someone finds her here."
"We've got the whole thing figured out." Doug nodded before gesturing to James. "We already picked up the last item we needed to pull this off." He pulled out a red tablecloth, wrapped in a plastic dry-cleaner bag. "Checkmate."
Claire walked out of the bathroom to find Francis putting on his cufflinks, adding the final touch to his black tux. He looked up at her and shook his head. "I can't believe Garret actually expects us to be down there at this gala tonight. He knows what's going on. Screw appearances for him. What about us? We'll look like fucking monsters going to a gala while the rest of the country thinks our daughter is being tortured and killed." He grimaced as the words fell from his lips. "God, that's just like vinegar."
"He told us to come. He never told us to we had to be happy." Claire smirked, straightening his tie for him. "If we run into anybody important, we can simply tell them that Garret needed us there. More eyes on him when this all blows up." She leaned forward, pecking his lips. "Thank you for noticing my dress by the way."
"You know I think you look stunning in everything." Francis whispered, a slight guilt to his voice for not complimenting his wife when she emerged from the bathroom in the dark shade of red satin. "If I didn't know better, I'd say God sent an angel."
Claire let out a throaty laugh, surprised and pleased with his out of the blue comment. "But, you know better."
Francis smiled. "Well, you are married to the Devil."
"Maybe his cousin." Claire corrected him, teasing him. "We should get going."
"Right, the role of grieving parents." Francis stated, adjusting his posture.
Claire smiled sadly. "If it helps you get into character, I'll remind you of what Doug is probably doing to our daughter at the moment." She saw the anger flash in his eyes. "Okay, take that down a few notches. Channel that into sadness, and you'll be fine."
Francis kept his arm around Claire as they descended the stairs to one of the large halls of the White House, seeing a line of reporters and cameras focusing on the party guests that were arriving through the front door. Two of Garret's secret service officers accompanied them as per his orders to ensure they weren't socially attacked by anyone about James.
One of the reporters met his eyes though, and soon every reporter was calling out for him and Claire to answer a few questions. "Sir, you don't have to go over there." One of the officers said, gesturing towards the gala.
"My daughter could be watching." Francis breathed before his hand slid into Claire's. They slowly walked over to the reporters, standing a few feet away to have a few different cameras on them. "What's your question?"
"Why are you here at the gala tonight? You're daughter has been missing now for two days." A reporter asked, blurting out their question without formerly asking for the chance to speak.
Francis felt Claire press herself closer to him, dropping her forehead to his chin and turning away from the cameras. He reached up with his free hand to cup her face, keeping her face hidden from the reporters. "The President needed us here tonight for support. It is my job to support the President. So, that's why I'm here. The police are actively looking for my daughter, and we have told them not to hesitate calling with any piece of evidence, no matter how small."
A different reporter held out her microphone further, a cameraman moving along with her. "Are there any leads on the investigation as to who did this? Do they know where your daughter is?"
"As for leads, I'm not sure if they've narrowed it down to anybody yet. But, no, they don't know where my daughter is? If they did, they would be bringing her back home to where she belongs." Francis said, choking up at the end. He found all reporters had a new sympathetic look to them, they own emotions showing through. "Our daughter is our life. We just want her back home. She doesn't deserve to go through this. She deserves to have a normal life where she doesn't have to know these kind of horrors. She deserves better parents. Ones that can protect her. Ones that can shield her from this. Unfortunately, we failed her on that."
". . .If she were watching this, or if the kidnappers were, what would you say?" An older reporter asked, his sideburns graying by his ears.
Claire finally turned her head, tears welled in her eyes and wet paths on her cheeks. She quickly swatted at them before looking into the camera. "If James is watching this, baby, we just want you to know that we love you and we want you to come home. We miss you terribly. We love you so much, baby girl." She let out a sob and pushed herself away from Francis gently, walking back a few feet. All cameras could see her now as she covered her face with her hands.
Francis teared up as well before looking in the camera. "We love you, darlin'." He turned towards Claire, but turned back to the camera. "If the kidnappers are watching this, let her go. If you're trying to hurt us, you've done that already. You have our attention. Just let our daughter go. She's done nothing wrong. She's an innocent girl who just turned sixteen for God's sake. Let her come home." He turned back around to Claire and wrapped his arms around her, letting her bury her face into his shoulder as all the cameras caught them now.
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