Author: Sirius
Disclaimer: See Part I for ratings and disclaimers.
Author's Note: MY MUSES CAME BACK!!!! YAY!!!!! Also, for the purposes of this fic, Scarecrow and Mrs. King took place ten years before the conventional series timeline. In other words, instead of the marriage taking place in the early '80s, it took place in the early '70s. It's confusing, I know, but it will make sense later. There's really just a minor reference to it in a later part, but I thought I'd explain ahead of time and get it out of the way.
Note 2: This portion of the fic references few moments in "25." I loathed the Speaker and wanted to get rid of him, so…
Part II
Three people sat in a single room, thoughts centered on that night's events. The slimmer man watched as his oldest friend got up to pace the perimeter of the room.
All the calls had been made and no one was getting in or out of D.C. – by plane, train, bus, car, bicycle or his own two feet – without being stopped by law enforcement or the National Guard.
Everything that these three could do had already been done, and all that was left was prayer. Over-riding the hopeful whispers was a single thought in the minds of all. Not again. Please, God, not again.
Five hours later:
The Cabinet had been called and had voted. The Speaker stood before the desk, the President behind it. He took a last look at the paper that would – temporarily, he hoped – strip from him the powers of the office. Damn it, John, why the hell didn't you fight?
Bartlet knew why. It was the same reason he was prepared to sign this now. Hoynes couldn't fight the accusations and still protect his family. Bartlet couldn't fight for his family and still protect the country. At this point, it was one or the other.
No one noticed his hand shaking as he set pen to paper and took a deep breath. The pen had just begun to move across the paper when a commotion outside the Oval made him pause. The noise coincided with Ron taking a sudden intense interest in whatever he was hearing over his earpiece… as well as the – officially – unheralded entrance of Charlie and an unfamiliar woman into the Oval Office. All three spoke simultaneously. "Don't sign that, sir. We've found her."
The pen dropped from Bartlet's suddenly nerveless fingers, and he didn't notice as Leo grabbed the paper and proceeded to rip it into interestingly-shaped confetti. The Speaker had a look of… not quite annoyance… on his face, and looked as though he'd been about to speak, before thinking better of it. Unfortunately, in the end, he elected to say it anyway.
"What is the meaning of this, boy?"
"Did he just call me boy?" Charlie muttered quietly, glaring at him
"He did, and I'm sure that my illustrious team leader will want to kick his six for that at some later date. But for now, I think he would appreciate an answer to his question. The meaning of this, Speaker," the unfamiliar woman stated, "is that Zoey Bartlet has been found – alive, I might add – and you are being arrested. And hey, my day's perfect, because the DOJ decided to let me have the privilege of busting your sorry ass. Let's see if I can remember all the charges. We have… kidnapping – several charges, actually. Let's tack on drug trafficking, conspiracy to commit murder, terrorism… and there's quite possibly treason in there somewhere, along with about fifty other assorted charges. Of course, that's just at this moment. They'll probably be adding others on as the evidence gains a little clarity. By the way, I'd suggest firing whoever you got to write the ransom note – definitely not a native speaker – and the vocabulary errors were a dead give away. Profilers had fun with that little bit of idiocy."
The Speaker was spluttering in impotent rage at this point. "Who the hell do you think you are?"
"Me? DEA Agent Corinne de Valle, Speaker – and you were responsible for making fourteen years of my life a living hell. In fact, you might say that I'm a regular prodigy when it comes to pain… although if I said that, I'd be stealing my team leader's lines." Cori grinned as the Speaker blanched… and Ron instantly realized that it was not a happy grin. This was intensely personal, and she looked at him with the gaze of someone who was finally seeing justice done.
The Speaker submitted to being cuffed and frisked – there were ten Secret Service Agents in the room, after all. It's not as though he had much choice.
Bartlet was too shocked to speak at the moment. His baby girl was alright. The nightmare wouldn't go on forever… not like last time. They wouldn't have to go through it again. Butterfield, however, was having several pertinent thoughts on the night's situation. The primary question on his mind was the first out of his mouth. "Where is she?"
"She's on her way back here with the retrieval team and should be walking through the door in half an hour."
"The Service didn't send a retrieval team, Agent de Valle."
"Cori?" Charlie's question was apparently one that only the two of them understood, and she answered with a nod.
"But," he said, stumbling slightly over his words, "Ry… the TL hasn't handled a firearm in eight years… not even for target practice."
"I know. All members of the team were armed… but the suspects were taken alive, per the Team Leader's orders. Of course, some of them are a little… bloodier than others, but they are all alive. Targeter's keeping an eye on them at the scene until someone can get down to pick them up. TL went off somewhere once the mission was complete and Wizard Prince wasn't part of it. The rest are bringing her up here and will cheerfully surrender their weapons – all of which are legal, in case anyone's wondering – at the front gate, with the understanding that the team will reclaim them when they leave."
"How large of a team are we talking here?" Butterfield asked once the Speaker (former and soon to be disgraced) was out of hearing range.
Charlie answered his question. "Since Cori's here, Prince is overseas, and Marcus… That would leave four. Since TL has apparently disappeared and Targeter is with the prisoners, there will be two people escorting Zoey back – a black man who has the build of your quintessential Marine… and a tall, slim woman of Middle Eastern decent."
The look Ron gave to the aide promised that he would be talking to the younger man later. "This isn't a Service team. Who are you people, Agent de Valle?"
"We were… at one point… a CIA wet team, Agent Butterfield. We were very good at our jobs… and very, very young. Everyone is when they first start that kind of work." Butterfield didn't miss the look that Charlie shot her at this point.
"We are, of course, no longer with the CIA. If we were, then our participation in this matter would be highly illegal. As a team, we resigned – quite some time ago – when we were given illegal orders, which we refused to follow. Any details beyond that, Agent, would be of a higher security classification than is possessed by most of the individuals in this room. I can divulge many of them with my former team leader's permission, but until then… you're out of luck. You have my apologies, if that helps."
"Wait, wait," Will said, from his position in the cluster of Senior Staff, where he had been quietly observing the proceedings. "You said that this team – vague as that seems – was a CIA wet team. What are they – or rather, all of you – now, and how did you get involved in this?"
"I, personally, got involved in this as a favor to my team leader, who was concerned about something Charlie had mentioned in passing. Jean-Paul's name struck a chord and made a certain person very uneasy. Since I was on vacation at the time, I was asked to keep an eye on him."
"Wait, why wasn't I told about this?"
"TL wasn't sure if it was a valid concern or a personal one. Like I said, the name struck a chord. His father was the one who started that ruckus with Connor in May of '98."
"Wait, Jean-Paul's father was the one who called Connor a …" Charlie trailed off here, clearly not wanting to repeat what had been said.
"Yeah… anyway, as it seems the President is still speechless, I will be completely imprudent and offer a suggestion – that said President go spend some time with the First Lady while waiting for his daughter and that the rest of the staff – with the notable exception of Charlie – get some sleep. In Charlie's case, it's a lost cause. Unfortunately, I suspect the same is true of everyone else as well. I just bet the Press Room is going to be interesting tomorrow."
Bartlet found his voice before she could get to the door. "Agent de Valle, finish your business with the Speaker and then get back here. I will have a joyous reunion with my daughter and once I am certain she is safe, we will continue this discussion. I expect to see all of the participating members of this unorthodox group here within three hours. Charlie, as you seem to – oddly enough – know this group, you will see to their comfort if I am not available when they all arrive… and you will track down those that are missing."
"Yes, Mr. President," he said. Inside, he simply thought that his assignment was easier said than done. Bartlet dismissed his staff and dragged Leo with him to the Residence, when they waited with Abbey for Zoey's safe arrival.
TBC…