THIS IS A DIFFERENT CHAPTER FROM EVERYHING IVE WRITTEN. IT IS INTENDED TO CATCH YOU OFF GUARD, INCLUDING HOW IT IS WRITTEN. PLEASE. THIS CHAPTER IS ONE IVE BEEN WAITING TO WRITE SINCE I STARTED. PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK.


Elizabeth tuned out the phone call happening in her ear. She was listening for the radio to go off.

And she had no materials. She wasn't seeing any of the things Isabelle, Henry, and Russell were.

She couldn't breathe.

She forced herself to think through it.

She couldn't get any air.

Then something pierced through. And she looked to her feet.

And Zazu's paw was on her leg, his eyes looking up at her.

And the dots began to connect.

"HENRY!" she screamed into the phone. "I need to speak to my husband."

"I'm here, Elizabeth."

She drew in one breath. "What did Emma tell you about Zazu?"

"What?" He asked, confused.

She caught another breath. "Just tell me what she told you."

"Well…" He stammered, "she told me that he made her feel better when he was with her. And that she wanted you to feel better."

Elizabeth shook her head, grasping her chest with her free hand, "And what about the morning?"

"Ummm…"

"HENRY!"

"Um… that you knew how he gets fed in the mornings."

"'Mornings' plural?" She asked.

"Yes. Elizabeth what the hell does this…"

And Elizabeth had the picture. She had it in her head.

The radio chirped. "No contact from Emma's detail."

She slammed her fist against the car door. "Fuck." She said. When the car started to slow down, Elizabeth reached to the seats in front of her and grabbed Matt's lapel. And she shook it. And screamed. "I am the President of the United States. The United States Secret Service is under MY authority. You will NOT turn this car off course."

"Ma'am" Matt contradicted. "We have an entire Security detail offline. We cannot take you into an unsecured location."

"Matt." She yelled. "DO. NOT."

The car slowed. "Ma'am."

"I want all agents closest to the scene there." She said, no lack of authority in her voice.

And the car sped up. "But you are not to leave his car." Matt said.

"Fine." She lied. And they both knew it. "ETA?"

"Seventeen minutes."

"Make it two." She said. And then she tried to breathe again.


Henry stood in there in his pajamas in the living room. Without thought, the room had filled up. Russell and Isabelle had been the first ones there. But now there were laptops and computers everywhere. And Director Ware stood there, monitoring everything.

Russell was jumping from one person to the next.

Isabelle was pouring over computer files.

But Henry stepped back.

Trying to figure out what Elizabeth had been asking him about the dumb cat. Why was she so focused on that? What was the connection?


"Falcon's detail headed to the scene."

"What about the girl's phone? We've tried the agents. Nothing."

"Running trace now."

Cat food.

"ETA?"

"Twelve minutes."

"All local law enforcement headed to the house as well."

Feeding him in the morning.


Elizabeth held onto the car door, trying to get her mouth to work.

The car took the hills as fast as possible, their sirens blaring and lights flashing, disorienting Elizabeth.

"Still no contact from Emma's detail." Matt relayed.


Emma knew she only had moments. She rolled Riley's body down the hill into the pasture. And she led the mare out of the pasture, sending the horse galloping out with a hard kick to her hindquarters. Then Emma pulled out her phone. Her fingers shook. She couldn't stop shaking. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her ears were ringing with each sound around her. Silence.

She tried to pull up the right thing on the phone. But no matter what she tried, she couldn't find that one thing.

She heard grass rustle towards the bottom of the hill. And she pressed herself back away from any light from the adjacent pasture below. And she did the one thing she knew how to do.


"Henry. She didn't leave the cat with us because of me. Henry, you told me she was scared last night. If she was afraid coming to the farm, she would've brought him. She wasn't afraid for herself, Henry."


Isabelle looked up at him, her eyes clouding with terror as she heard Elizabeth's words.

"The interview wasn't a mistake." He said. "It wasn't a mistake."


Isabelle's words rattled in Elizabeth's brain. And tore through her chest. "She was drawing Sterling out there."

"Oh God." Elizabeth pleaded, and yelled, "Matt. Get there. Now."

And the speedometer shot up.

As her phone rang.

"Henry, Emma's on the other line." Elizabeth cried, and she connected the calls, her heart stuck in her throat.


Emma pushed the volume button down.

"You're up late, little girl."

Emma backed up, trying to stay out of the light. She tried her best to push the memories away. She could see the dark figure walking up the hill. Him. She reminded herself that she was strong.

"Are you hiding from me?" His voice was low and quizzical. "I like playing games, don't you remember?"

Emma stopped backing up when she was on top of the hill. "You only like playing games you can win." She tried to sound stronger than she felt at that moment.

When the moonlight hit his face, her stomach turned. The sight of his eyes. His mouth, pulled into a sneer.

"You know me, Emma. Why do you look so scared?"

She forced herself to stand there. "I'm not scared." She said, but even her words betrayed her.

He walked closer, and she could feel him begin to tower over her. Still she stood there. "What were you thinking today?" He asked, like she was a two-year-old in trouble for sneaking cookies from the cookie jar. He was close enough to reach out and touch her, but he just stood there, and she could feel him undressing her with his eyes. "I mean, I told you what would happen, and you did it anyway?"


"EMMA!" Elizabeth yelled. "EMMA!" She must be on mute. Emma called her and put her on mute. But all Elizabeth wanted to do was to keep yelling her daughter's name. Perhaps, by some miracle, she'd make the phone reach her daughter.

Isabelle's voice, "Bess."

"She's recording." Elizabeth finished the sentence. "Are we tracing the phone?"

"Just about got it." Director Ware.

Breathe, she told herself. Live, she prayed for her daughter. "Drive" she told Matt.


Emma recoiled instinctually as he reached out his hand to touch her hair.

"Have you missed me, little one?" He asked her.

She bit her tongue. She wanted to spit in his face. Instead she stood there.

"Scared?" Then he laughed. "You wouldn't need to be scared if you had just kept your mouth shut."

Then she opened her mouth, "Why should I be quiet about it?"

"Because I'm going to kill you."

"Like you killed Lea?" Emma asked back, staring up into those eyes that before had just induced terror throughout her entire being.

He leaned down and touched her cheek, "No, Emma. This little stunt only made sure I was done with you."


"Phone pinged about half a mile from the house."

Henry looked at the map, pushing the words coming from Emma's call out of his head to focus. Then into the phone, "High Pasture. She's in the high pasture."

Then he turned and put his fist through the wall.


"Cut the lights and sirens" Elizabeth yelled, and within seconds the entire motorcade was a silent and invisible speeding machine. "Two more hills, around the third curve."


"So what does it feel like to still be bested by my mother?" She goaded him. And she could see the way his eyes narrowed that she was getting to him. "I mean, you know they're going to find out it was you. You're not dumb enough to think you'd possibly get away with murdering the President's daughter, are you?"

And before she could react, his hand grabbed her hair, and she let out a scream of pain. And he jerked her body close to his as he hissed, "No one's ever going to find out, you bitch."

"Really?" She asked, "You don't think they'll figure it out from my little mix-up today?" She said through gritted teeth.

He shook her hard again, sending pain down her spine when he threw her to the ground. She hit hard and sat there for a second, "It's hard to give testimony in court when you're dead. And they'll think little cute agent down there did it."

"And how exactly are you going to do that one?" She asked.

"I've got friends in high places." A gut-wrenching pain shot through her abdomen as his boot connected with her ribs. Her body wrapped into itself, as she tried to catch her breath.

Breathe she begged her body.

Then a kick to her back, and she was unable to move.

Breathe. Breathe. She begged. She prayed Breathe.

She heard a murmur at the bottom of the hill, but the world was fading as she ached for air. And she found it. Her entire chest heaved as her body sucked in as much life as she could muster. One breath. Two.

She pushed herself to her feet, the pain in her side almost unbearable. But she wasn't done. She couldn't be.

"What an idiot." She heard him mutter from farther down the hill.

Holding her side, but still standing. She taunted him, "Yeah, you'd think you'd find guys with different sexual deviations than your own, asshole. He was pretty easy to deal with." He was coming up the hill again. "I just batted my eyes at him a few times, offered him a drink, and, sorry, I guess teenage girls trump your little troupe."

He was close enough she could see him. And she knew that fury. She'd watched him kill people with that look in his eyes. He found it fun. And he liked to show it off.

And she moved. She ran along the top of the hill where it dropped off suddenly down into a rocky ravine. She could hear him coming up behind her. But she wasn't ready to give up yet. She couldn't yet. But each step she took her side shot hot fire throughout her body.

And he reached out and grabbed her arm, yanking her from running any farther. And he threw her on the ground again.


The phone coverage from Emma went silent. There was nothing. "Where' the audio?" Director Ware called out to his team.

"Sir, the line is still going. We're just not sure, but the call is still recording."


Emma stood up, staggering.

"You know I like to watch you in pain."

"Go fuck yourself." She spat at him. And she reached behind her, feeling the cold metal in her hands. And she drew it on him.


Henry heard the word.

The call through the room silenced everyone.


Elizabeth heard the word.

The call through the radios brought terror.


Gun.


Emma held it on him. "You made my life hell." She hissed, feeling the power she'd practiced and earned.

"Ah, that's where his gun went." Then he laughed, mocking her. "You think you're so smart and powerful?"

"Maybe I do." She said. "Outsmarted by a little girl."

Then she heard it. Down the hill.

Cars. Tires.

And for one split second, she turned her head.

His hands wrapped around her wrists, aiming the gun into the air. Her finger pulled the trigger, sending a bullet up into the air.


Gunshot. The entire room stopped.


Gunshot. Elizabeth could hear it. Closer than she thought. And she looked out and saw on the hill next to her. Two figures. One fell to the ground.

And before Matt could get out of the car, she threw the door open. But even though she took one step outside, she was surrounded by four agents, each holding her arms. She thrashed and screamed. "Let me go. She needs me. You can't do…"

Another gunshot. And now she couldn't breathe as she watched the two figures up on the ridge.


Agents on the ground.

"Unable to get a clear shot."

Henry heard two gunshots. But the phone call was still going. The sounds of struggling.


Emma tried to hold onto the gun, but he was taller, and his hands were bigger and stronger than she was. He barely had it in his possession before she threw her knee into his groin, causing him to drop the gun and bend over in pain. She was closer to the ground, and she fell hard, lunging her body down as close as she could to it. But it was just out of her reach, and before she knew it, she was lying there, watching him grab for it. She reached her fingers up and found contact with his eyes, digging deep into them. He cried out in pain, but he didn't let go of the firearm. He brought his hand holding the gun across her face, throwing her body thudding into the ground.

Move. Her brain screamed. Move. She could feel the blood pouring from her nose and lip. And with the last bit of strength, she rolled to her stomach, trying to push herself up with her hands, but she couldn't.

"And here ends the American Royal Line." He said, spitting on her from where he knelt above her. The line he'd used so much. "Breeding a special line, she said. It's time for that to end."

"Do you know … why you hate… me so much?" Emma struggled to breathe. She wanted to get one last say before.

He spit down on her neck again from where he'd crawled above her. "Because I hate your mother.

Emma shook her head, holding herself up with her forearms against the dirt. The feeling of him on her back was enough to make her want to give up and die right there. Memories pushed, but she had to push harder. "No." She snarled. "You hate that us little girls? We grow into badass women."

And with the last ounce of strength in her body, she used her knees to push her up, grabbing for the gun and pulling it towards her. Using the steep incline, she launched herself into his body, curling her legs around his stomach, pulling him off balance as she started rolling down the ravine, his body crashing into hers. As she still struggled for the gun. His grip wouldn't loosen. As the world fell around her.


Elizabeth watched in horror. A scream came from deep inside her as she watched the scene in front of her. A fight. And then, both bodies fell. Down the ravine. Past where she could see.

As they fell, she heard a lone gunshot. And a girl's scream.

And then nothing.