HEY. THERE IS MORE COMING. BUT. I'LL JUST TAKE A STAB IN THE DARK AND SAY, YOU'RE WELCOME. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK.


Elizabeth could not make another call apologizing to any heads of the military. Daisy was in the middle of trying to keep Emma's misspoken words from overtaking the next five news cycles. Elizabeth hung up the phone and looked at Russell.

"Can I please just eat crow tomorrow?" She whined. "It's going to take me months to regain trust with the Generals. Most of them think they're under investigation, and while it's always good for the military heads to cross their t's and dot their I's, I just… I'm tired."

Russell sent her the look that said, "Think about what you said for a moment."

"I know, I'm going to the house tomorrow, but… ugh." She sat back in her chair. "I don't know what we were thinking, Russell. Letting her do a live interview for her first one?"

"I agree." He said, "But her and Mike sure did make a good team."

And she made an executive decision. "It's after ten. I'll finish making calls tomorrow on the way to the farm."

When her chief of staff agreed, she knew she'd put in the hours. "And if Director Ware wants to actually take my call instead of giving me the silent treatment, then he can get a call from me then." She grabbed her suit jacket hanging on her chair. "That's two hours in the car, maybe two and a half with traffic depending on when we actually get on the road." She stifled a yawn. "So, that's what I got."

"You're coming back tomorrow night?" He asked as he headed towards her office. "There will still be more cleanup, and we've got to start working on your state of the union."

"That's five months away, Russell." She protested.

He shrugged his shoulders before leaving the office. And called behind him, "That's the job, Bess."

The whole way up to the Residence, she tried with each step to leave the office behind. Of course the work never actually left her. And the fact that Emma had caused so much extra work and problems today hadn't been the highlight of her work. But she knew she would have to apologize to Emma tomorrow. And she was glad they'd get to be away from the White House. She was so excited to see Emma ride the horses, having heard from Henry just how wonderful of a rider she was. Maybe, if she could get Matt on one of the horses, she could take Emma down a few miles to the creek for a picnic lunch.

She was surprised the lights were still on in the Residence. And when she saw Henry sitting on the couch, she said, "I assumed with the quiet house, you'd be in bed by nine."

"So now we're old people?" Henry asked.

She set her coat down on the table, then she thought about it. "Henry, we are most definitely old people."

He chuckled. "Well, it's been a bit hard to sleep."

She walked around to sit by him on the couch, but suddenly she understood. The loud meowing. Long and miserable. "What?" She looked over at the window, where Zazu sat, his tail flicking back and forth. And the miserable meowing happened again. "I thought Emma went to the farm? She was going to leave like right after the interview?"

Henry nodded, his eyes glazed over with sleep forbidden. "She did. They left around seven or so." When the horrific meowing happened, Elizabeth just sent him a questioning look, to which he responded, "Emma felt bad that she screwed the interview up and made all the work for you. She told me to tell you that Zazu always made her feel better, and she wanted you to feel better and that you know how he gets fed in the mornings."

Meoooooooow.

"Well, I've felt bad all evening." And she had. "I shouldn't have been so hard on her." She put her feet up on Henry's lap, flicking her toes at him, to which he started rubbing her feet. "It was just one of the worst things she could say, Henry. Like, she could've declared war on China and it would've had less of an impact on my ability to do my job."

"I know." He agreed, but then, ever the peacemaker, said, "But, I mean, she just stumbled and got stuck. On live television. And she's only going to be…"

She understood, "Seventeen, I know." Then she leaned her head against the couch headrest, "Was she mad? Like, will I get the silent treatment from her for a while? Did we take steps back? Am I the spawn of satan again?"

He shook his head. "No. She was not angry." He rubbed the arch of her foot, the main victim of her heels, "She was just sad. Like she'd disappointed you. She was really quiet. More than normal."

Meooooooooow.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, trying to ignore the cat, and said, "That makes me feel even worse. And right before her birthday."

"She'll be fine. Once you talk to her."

"Too bad she never answers her phone we got her." Elizabeth grumbled. She wasn't mad at the phone. She wrinkled her nose and looked at her husband. Then quietly, she admitted, "I feel guilty."

Henry just rubbed her foot harder.

"Oh, come on, just tell me I should feel guilty instead of taking it out on my sore feet."

"Ok." He said, "Maybe…"

"You're supposed to take my side, you jackass." She joked.

Meoooooooooow.

"So how long's that been going on?" She asked.

He shrugged, "About fifteen minutes after she left until now."

She sat there for a few seconds, thinking.

Meooooooooooow.

"So here's the option I see, Henry." She started, sitting up and getting to her feet. "I can either stay here, awake in bed plagued by my guilt and the death wails of this psychotic cat…" She walked over to the window, reaching out to pet him.

Meooooooooow.

"…or I can get the detail to drive me and this animal up to the farm to his girl and surprise Emma and try to do some atoning."

Henry smiled, and she knew that was the right decision. "Will your detail go for it?"

She shrugged, "I am kinda their boss." Then she pointed her finger at him, eyes wide, "You just want me to leave so the cat goes away and you can sleep."

"To be honest." He said, "Yeah." Then he admitted, "I even tried putting the cat down the hallway at the base of the stairs."

"You're wicked." She joked.

Meooooooooow. Zazu agreed.

"Well, he came back. Got in somehow."

"That's comforting when it comes to security and everything." Then she tilted her head to the side, "Unless the detail got tired of the meowing and let him back in to get him away from them."

Henry stood up and said, "In that case, they deserve a long car ride with the cat at ten thirty at night." He reached behind the armchair and pulled out a suitcase. "I had a hunch you'd want to go and atone."

"That's really not funny, Henry." She complained, lightly smacking him with the suitcase. But she walked to the phone, and called downstairs, "Matt, I've got something I need you to do. We're going to the farm tonight, but I don't want Emma to find out." Then she added while Henry scooped up the loud cat who echoed his protest of being picked up, "And to keep it a surprise, don't tell anyone." And with a peck on the cheek and a quick grab of her ass, he'd pushed her out the door, telling her he loved her and would see her tomorrow.

So she waited for her motorcade to pull around, listening to what she was sure would be her companion for the next two hours.

Meoooooooooooooow.


Emma sat on the hill of the far pasture. The highest part of the farm that wasn't covered in spotlights. She wanted to avoid those tonight. With the bottle of scotch beside her, she sat there. She'd been there since she'd gotten off the horse from her ride, and let her roam around the pasture. The darkness had completely taken over dusk turning the grave into the dead of night, but the horse just munched on the grass a few feet away, midway up the hill.

She saw Riley walking over, and she tried to hide the scotch. Did a bad job of it. And he made his way halfway up the hill before he called out, "You had to pick this spot to sulk, huh?"

"You're just an old man who can't climb up the hill," She joked back.

When he got to the top, he pretended to be out of breath. "Can I join you?"

Emma shrugged. But gestured to the grass beside her.

And he spotted the bottle. And she could barely see him through the dark, but she heard the skepticism in her voice, "Emma, you're going to get in so much trouble."

She slurred her words as she said, "So fucking what. It's not like.. like I'm not already in trouble." Then she handed him the bottle, "Want some?"

"You know I can't do that." He objected. "I'm on duty."

Emma snorted, a bit too loud. Enough that the horse startled and moved a few more feet away towards the base of the hill. "I mean, who fucking cares anymore." She said, tripping over her words. "You're stuck on some tiny horse farm in the middle of Virginia where absolutely no one comes at 11pm. And I'm going to get blamed for drinking because I've already had…" She took the half empty bottle from him and tried to make a straight line with her finger but couldn't. Then she started laughing. "See. But I guess if you want to get out-drunk by a teenage girl, be a pussy then."

It was quiet a few moments. And he touched his earpiece.

"One sip." He said, taking the bottle away, "But, remember, this never happened."

She laughed too loud, "You think I'll remember anything tomorrow morning?"

He took a swig, then shook his head as he inhaled. "That's some strong stuff, kid."

"Tell me abourt it." She laughed at her own twisting of the words, "Might as well not remember the end of this shitty day." Then she gestured at the bottle, "Seriously? One swig?"

He laughed, took another, then, with only the air at the back of his throat, he croaked out, "Just mad about the interview?"

"Well, in case youuurrr haven't noticed," She slurred, "I tend towards the angry bitch side of life."

"That you do." Then, serious, he said, "So did you really misspeak? Like did you really get nervous and accuse someone of something?"

She chuckled and lifted her middle finger to him, leaning over towards him and said, "What the fuck do you think?" Then she quietly said, "No. That was real." Then she slapped him on the shoulder, "You ever been on live TV?"

"Nope." He said, and held the bottle up to her and said, "Here's to never being on Live TV."

She mock toasted him, and he swallowed not one but two gulps.

This time he said something, "Woah, that stuff is…"

She agreed, "It's like… the king of England shit or something."

"Wait, what the fuck?" He said, holding the bottle away from him and trying to read the label in the dark, "Are you kidding me or…"

She leaned over and put her head on his shoulder, looking at his earpiece, "Riley, England has a queen. Not a king."

He laughed for much too long, and then said, "Yeah, you're right. But heyyy, back to you…" And he set the bottle down, "Like, are you … really … did you mean what you said? That it was … like a king or something in America?"

She just looked at him, watching his eyes glaze over. And she said, "You really can't hold your liquor, Riley."

He shook his head, and said, "I can. This stuff is just really… like strong. I think we're going to have to start back cause if it… if it… hits me…"

And Emma leaned over to him, on her hands and knees beside where he said on the ground. And she just looked at him.

"Dude, you're fucking wasted." He said and laughed. The bottle dropped onto the grass.

She looked at his eyes, watching his pupils get larger and larger.

He inhaled, and said, "You smell pretty."

She laughed, but there was no exaggeration this time. Stone. Cold. Sober.

She put her hands on his thighs, putting her mouth right at his eyes. He didn't move. "You seem far too relaxed." He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. She pushed his back to the ground, and leaned down, her lips touching his earlobe as she hissed, "You shouldn't be."


"I mean, seriously, Zazu." Elizabeth's nerves were on edge. "It's been an hour and forty minutes. And you haven't stopped pacing. And the meowing…"

She didn't know why she kept trying to talk to him. It did nothing. Absolutely nothing. He just went from one window to the other side window. And the meowing had gotten so much worse.

She'd given up sleeping five minutes into the trip. Part of her had wished he'd just get carsick and lay there. But nope. Just anxious.

Her phone rang. She muttered, "Russell, I swear to God if that's you…"

Isabelle.

"If you're calling to cancel coming for Emma's birthday, I will tell you she'll be disappointed and I'll…"

"Bess, I found the connection."

She tried to brush the cobwebs away from her brain this late at night. "Ok, shoot."

"I'm here at the White House, I was looking for you." Her voice was short. The short that wasn't boding well for Elizabeth's ability to sleep at all that night. "Henry told me you were on your way to the farm."

"Henry's there?" She asked, looking at her watch, "How much farther?" She asked Matt. It was pointless to get her laptop out to view files if they were going to be there in….

"About twenty-two minutes, Ma'am."

"Hey babe." Henry said.

"Bess, you've got to focus." Isabelle said firmly. Elizabeth knew something serious was up. "So you know how we started back when Emma was first taken. We looked at everyone working in any Intelligence agency. No stone left unturned. We looked for every enemy, foreign and domestic. The claims and even the execution didn't make any sense because while it had to do with Iran it wasn't… in line with it."

"That was the part that didn't add up." Elizabeth said. She'd thought through and inched through every file.

Isabelle kept going, "Well, today, I had a hunch. What if it was someone that USED to work in the intelligence community?"

"We checked those people out. The people who left angry. The people we had to fire. All of them." Elizabeth could see the files in her head. And she could manually check through them. She'd done it hundreds of times.

"But we didn't check the people who left on good terms."

Henry jumped in with his question, "But even if they were secretly angry, the work was done from the inside. They had to still be there."

"Not if they'd recommended and hired the people and then resigned." Isabelle countered. And Elizabeth could hear her flipping through pages. "Michael Clayton and Isaac Frommel were both recommended by the same person."

"Isabelle," Elizabeth questioned, shifting in her seat, "Do you know how many people simply in the State Department are recommended for either their position or promotion by the same person. I've written hundreds of recommendations for people. That's what working in a hierarchy is."

Isabelle wouldn't be detoured. "Bess, what if the person who recommended them was forced to resign quietly from his top-ranking military position?"

Elizabeth couldn't keep up. "Who?"

"Craig Sterling."

Isabelle said the name, and Elizabeth sat with it for a moment.

Then she heard, "That bastard?"

"Russell, is that you?" Elizabeth breathed out. "Who is all on this phone call?"

"Just the three of us." They all said.

She swallowed. "I'm going to play devil's advocate here for a second. How many other people are or have been employed because of a previous recommendation from Sterling? I mean we all didn't like him, and there was no love lost between him and I, but… to accuse him…"

"That's why I'm here." Russell said, "Remember when you wanted to chew out and replace your security detail for Emma?"

"Agent Hensley?" Elizabeth asked.

"Sterling's name came up in my head because you had me pull what seemed like nonsense research on some Secret Service Agent. Anyway, Sterling pulled some strings at the training facility to get him through faster. Something to do with wanting him to help with the non-profit Sterling wanted security for supplying food and medical supplies to refugees in… Iran."

Now Elizabeth couldn't breathe. She could not get air into her lungs.

Henry said the words she needed to say, "Wait, so the head of my daughter's detail is connected RECENTLY to two other…"

"We've got a problem." Isabelle's voice broke through Henry's tirade. "I found a report filed by Agent Hensley four weeks ago, and another almost exact one filed days ago."

Elizabeth hated that she wasn't in front of the information. "Please just tell me what you have." She unbuckled and moved around in her seat.

"He filed a report for equipment failure. Radio's going offline. First time was only a few seconds. But the second one was for 7.28 minutes."

"Reports, good." Russell said, "Necessary now because?"

Elizabeth waited. "What's happening?"

She heard the computer keys tapping in the background. And Isabelle said, "Because the same outage started tonight at 10:45 and is still in progress."

"You mean. No way to contact my daughter's detail?" And without waiting, Elizabeth leaned forward to Matt. "I need you to contact Emma's detail. Now."

"Yes ma'am." Matt said.

"Please, oh please." Elizabeth's mind begin flying. If they couldn't get in touch with anyone there on the ground…