Disclaimer: Shondaland/ABC… ! ...
NO-Mellie and NO-Joke: Public Service Announcement for any accidental non-Olitz readers
Also this story will dive into more preaching, WTF and sharks ahoy!
News in the USA
"President Grant orders strike on Weapons factory: A chemical weapons factory in the African state of Lushan was destroyed in a dawn raid this morning. White House sources have confirmed the factory was linked to the terror attacks on American and Australian Embassies last week…"
"US Navy destroys chemical-weapons factory: A weapons factory with links to the new terror group Warriors of Mass Destruction was razed to the ground this morning. President Grant gave the executive order as commander-in-chief, after the factory was linked to the terrorist group Warriors of Mass Destruction. The attack follows recent threats of further attacks on US civilian and military sites, endangering American lives…"
News from around the World
"US Navy drops 75 cruise missiles on Asprin Factory: Seventy-five cruise missiles were dropped on a Luchanese pharmaceutical factory in the early hours of this morning, killing one employee and injuring 12 others. The dawn missile attack was ordered by US President Fitzgerald Grant in retaliation to the car bomb attacks at the US Embassies in Denya and Manzania last week…"
"Lushan's only medicine factory destroyed by US missiles: US President Grant today ordered a missile strike on a medicine factory in Lushan. Security officials for the administration say the strikes were carried out to prevent the 'imminent danger' of chemical warfare. The factory which supplies half of the medicine requirements of Lushan, was destroyed, leaving one dead and several others critically injured…"
News Updates from Independent Media
"Weapons factory doubts: Our sources on the ground say local authorities have confirmed the site was not a chemical weapons factory. Lushanese paramedics and emergency teams conducting rescue operations without Hazmat suits, report no adverse respiratory side effects…"
"Could it have been a civilian target? Serious doubts are being raised about the existence of a chemical weapons factory in Lushan. The site was in the middle of the capital city, in a built-up area. The remains of the destroyed building show no evidence of the safeguards needed for a facility manufacturing dangerous chemicals with exits leading straight onto the street…"
"Fitz!" Olivia gave his shoulder a vigorous shake.
Fitz raised his head off the Resolute desk and smiled.
"You. Are. Drunk." Olivia bit off each word, exasperated.
"Yes," Fitz agreed happily. "I. Am. Drunk."
"You need to get cleaned up before the kids get home," Olivia scolded, pulling on his arm.
Fitz staggered to his feet, knocking the empty bottle at his elbow onto the carpet. "Woopshie. You better call shomeone to clean up the mesh."
Olivia looked at the bottle, then back at him. "This is your mess. You need to clean it up."
"You want me to clean it up?" Fitz blinked at her. "Okey dokey." Hanging on to the edge of the desk, he lowered himself carefully on to the floor. On his knees, he stared down her feet and frowned. "I can't see your toesh."
"Damn you, Fitz!" Olivia said on a sob as she sank down beside him and reached for the bottle.
"Livvie…?" He tried to catch her arm, but he had trouble making contact. "Why'd do you have four armsh?" His fingers grazed her skin.
With another half-bitten sob, she smacked his hand away and got to her feet, holding the bottle with one hand and her stomach with the other. Then she walked to the door, opened it and faced Tom, waiting outside. "You're right. I do need your help."
When Cyrus stepped forward, Olivia shook her head, "No, it's okay. Tom and I have got this."
"We need to hurry this up. There's a press briefing in a couple of hours."
"Right now, the media isn't my highest priority, Cyrus."
"It should be, Olivia! They're beginning to ask questions and we don't want the media to come up with their own answers!"
Olivia closed the door on Cyrus. Tom was already behind the Desk, where Fitz was snoozing on the floor.
Between them they eventually helped Fitz up and out of the Oval Office, with Fitz trying to make conversation all the way.
"Liv ish mad at me, Tom. You know why?"
"No, sir."
Fitz turned to Olivia. "Liv, Tom doeshn't know why you're mad at me."
"Don't breathe on me," she gritted, "Your breath is killing me."
Fitz chuckled. "You're sho cute when you're mad."
They walked down strangely deserted corridors, past the occasional Marine or Secret Service agent on duty whose gaze didn't waver from a point straight ahead. If a White House aide happened to enter the corridor, they just as quickly disappeared through the first available doorway before they drew near. Household staff scurried past, pausing only to smile back when Fitz called out cheerily and waved.
When they finally entered the Presidential bedroom, Olivia sank on to the bed, while Tom half carried Fitz into the shower.
From the open doorway, she heard Fitz grumble, "No offensh, but I only take showers with Olivia."
"Sir, the First Lady needs a breather."
"I shwear I won't breathe on her a-gain."
Olivia rolled her eyes and went to the bathroom. "Tom, if you could just help me get his clothes off. I'll take it from here."
"Are you sure, Ma'am?"
"She ish shure," Fitz said firmly.
Olivia focused on Tom. "And if you could let the Chief Usher know, we'll be needing that coffee in about an hour."
"Yes, ma'am."
After Tom departed, Fitz grinned at Olivia as she stepped into the shower cubicle in her underwear. "Why aren't you naked?"
"I'm here to make sure you don't break your neck," she said turning on the cold tap.
"Ow! That'sh cold!"
"Yep."
"…You're getting wet."
"Yep."
"…Want a hug?"
"No."
Much later when Fitz, in a bathrobe, was on his second cup of coffee, a fully-dressed Olivia faced him with her hands on hips.
"I know you're tired and hungover, but Cyrus and the Press Secretary have scheduled a press briefing at four. The media is asking questions. Everyone who pushed you to attack the factory – they've all gone strangely silent. So you need to speak. You need to defend yourself. You need to release the CIA evidence."
Fitz got slowly to his feet. When he was upright, he ventured a smile. "So far so good… but I think I'll need help getting dressed."
Olivia disappeared into the walk-in closet, then reappeared with underwear, a suit, shirt and tie. Placing them neatly on the bed, she went back for socks and shoes.
When she returned Fitz was struggling to get his leg into his boxer shorts. Quickly dropping his shoes and socks, she went to help. Kneeling in front of him, she guided his feet into the shorts while he rested his hand on her shoulder.
"Thank you," he said softly after she finished helping him with the rest of his clothes.
"Ready?" Olivia asked, brushing a speck of lint from his jacket.
When he looked at her uncertainly, she gripped both his arms. "Fitz, you faced the media with a bullet wound in your head. What's a hangover compared to that?"
He gave her a rueful smile, lifting his hands to cup her face. "I love you."
"Tell me that when you're sober."
"You're still mad at me." His thumbs stroked her skin.
"Yep," Olivia agreed. Then at his woebegone face, she leaned in and gave his chin a quick kiss. "I love you too."
"Can I get another kiss?"
"No." She took Fitz's arm and walked him out of the room.
They had just made it back to the Oval Office when a brief knock interrupted them, a second before Cyrus walked in, carrying a sheaf of papers in his hand.
"The Communications Director passed this on, hot off the press. There's time to make changes, the briefing won't start for another couple of hours."
Fitz took the pages, stared at them blankly before glancing back at Cyrus. "This will be fine."
Cyrus looked at him oddly, then said, "The European Union and the rest of our allies have officially stated their support for the missile attacks. The Government of Australia is calling for further attacks on all likely hideouts for the Warriors of Mass Destruction."
Even as Olivia tightened her arm around his waist, Fitz said firmly, "There'll be no further attacks. I'm not escalating this morning's incident to a full scale war. Not until I have some hard evidence about the location of this mysterious terror group." He paused. "That reminds me, I need to speak to the CIA Director. I need the soil test report released."
There was a small silence, then Cyrus nodded, spared Olivia a glance and headed out the door.
Once they were alone, Olivia turned to Fitz and smiled.
He gave a soft grunt of laughter. "It's like the sun coming out, seeing you smile."
"You're still on probation," she murmured, reaching for the papers in his hand. "Let's go over this. I'll read it out so you don't have to focus on the small print."
He gusted a sigh of relief.
The White House press briefing.
Gripping the sides of the White House Lectern, Fitz answered each question with a calmness he was far from feeling.
"Mr President, what evidence did you have for attacking the Lushanese Pharmaceutical Factory?"
"We had convincing evidence that the factory was making chemical weapons. The CIA obtained a soil sample containing EMPTA. That's a key ingredient used in deadly VX nerve gas, a known weapon of mass destruction. I've asked that the test results be released to the public."
"Mr President, where was the soil sample found? We've seen pictures of the factory – the compound surface has concreted. The only soil obtained would have been from the plant pot at the entrance."
"A CIA operative obtained the soil sample under clandestine circumstances and we cannot reveal exactly how and where the soil sample was obtained for purposes of national security."
"The Lushanese President disputes these attacks were motivated by the threat of imminent danger. What do you have to say in response?"
"I will reiterate that we have substantial evidence that the factory was being used as a facility to manufacture weapons of mass destruction. We have evidence tying the owner of the factory to known terror groups who have threatened more attacks against our citizens and others. The destruction of innocents in Africa at both the US and Australian Embassies prompted me to take action to prevent another more devastating tragedy…"
Fitz walked out of the Press Briefing Room and straight into Olivia's arms.
"Good job," she whispered.
"I feel sick," He whispered back.
"Come on, let's get out of here."
With their arms around each other, Olivia and Fitz made it back to the Executive Residence, managing to avoid several senior staffers and Cyrus.
"Do you need an Asprin for your headache?" Olivia asked shutting the door to the Master Bedroom.
Fitz grimaced, sitting down on the bed. "No." He paused, after kicking off his shoes and looked at her. "What if the Lushan Factory was just a medicine factory?"
Olivia came to stand between his legs, reaching out to remove his tie.
"I think I goofed."
She remained silent, unbuttoning his shirt.
After a pause, he added, "I should have listened to your gut."
Again at her silence, he continued, "Liv, I shouldn't have given that order while I was drunk—"
That prompted Olivia to cut him off with a kiss. "Stop," she said huskily, sitting down on his lap, curling her arms around his neck. "What's done is done. You did what you thought best under the circumstances." She pressed another kiss to his mouth. "That's the most anyone can do."
He smiled against her lips. "I'm semi-sober now."
"Mm..hmm…"
"I love you," He drew back to meet her gaze, "And I'm sorry I upset you."
She looked at him solemnly. "Promise me you'll stay sober until I have the baby. I don't have the strength to carry you both."
"I promise."
She gave him a stern look. "You mean it?"
"Yes." He nodded, his face serious.
"Good," Olivia murmured, "Because the next time, Tom might be having a day off and I'll have to get Cyrus to help me undress you."
"Want me to issue an executive order cancelling all of Tom's leave?"
With a soft chuckle, Olivia got to her feet and helped Fitz up to finish removing the rest of his clothes. Once he was tucked in bed, she stayed with him, combing her fingers through his hair until he fell asleep.
"Is Dad drunk?"
Olivia hastily closed the bedroom door and looked around to find Jerry sprawled on the couch in the master suite.
"He's not feeling okay."
Jerry scrambled to his feet, towering over her as tall as a man, but the words out of his mouth were that of a boy.
"Mom, why did Dad go and bomb a medicine factory?"
"The factory was making chemical weapons."
"That's ridiculous, Mom, the factory wasn't built for that. It couldn't make chemical weapons."
"Those are just rumours, Jerry."
"No, they are not. The Jordanian factory designer has spoken to the Arab News Service saying it wasn't built with the safeguards you need to make a nerve gas. The British technical supervisor who worked there for 4 years said the factory didn't have sealed windows or doors with airlocks. Besides the factory was in the middle of the city – when it was destroyed no deadly gas escaped to paralyse anyone. The guy who died, died because Dad dropped a bomb on him."
"Fitz didn't drop a bomb on him."
"He ordered the attack, that's as good as dropping the cruise missiles on the guy himself. And you know what, Mom, the factory made 50 per cent of the medicine needed by the people of Lushan. The stuff was way cheaper than what they'll now have to buy from US companies. The factory even sent medicine to Iraq. Now they're all up shit creek because of Dad." He paused realising that Olivia was looking at him with an odd intensity. "What?"
"I think you've given me the answer I was looking for."
"I have? What was the question?"
Olivia placed her hand on his arm. "I need to check something out. Can you wait here; make sure no one disturbs your dad?"
"O-kay."
"That includes you, Jer."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously."
Huck picked up on the first ring.
"You heard about Cyrus." He said by way of a greeting.
Olivia glanced over her shoulder; seeing no one about, she slipped into a nearby closet and after securing the door behind her, asked, "What should I have heard about Cyrus?"
It was Huck's turn to fall silent.
"Huck?"
"Cyrus has been meeting with Hollis."
"Why is that suspicious?"
"It was two in the morning. In an out of town diner."
"You know why they met?
"Zeke is trying to find that out."
"Zeke knows about this?"
"Yes." When Olivia didn't respond to that, he prompted. "You got a job for us?"
After a pause, Olivia said slowly, "I want to know everything you can find out about the factory in Lushan. And I mean everything, including any legal action taken against it by major Pharmaceutical companies in the US."
World News Update…
"Three Jordanian experts involved in the construction of the bombed factory have confirmed today that it could not make chemical weapons of any kind. Speaking at a media conference in Amman, the chemist, engineer and architect said the factory was designed to make more than 50 types of medicine for humans and animals. 'It's designed to make chemicals that treat tuberculosis and malaria, not chemical weapons."
"Jordanian experts today confirmed that the plant destroyed by the US Navy was not equipped to make toxic nerve gas. The factory did not have separate ventilation, segregated buildings or special pipes. One expert revealed that a World Health Organisation inspector had been to the factory a few months ago, and that no operational modifications had been done since."
"In the aftermath of the US-missile attack on a medicine factory in Lushan, US intelligence agencies cannot confirm the whereabouts of the Warriors of Mass Destruction or the group's country of origin. This morning the US and Saudi authorities raided a charity suspected of funding the terror group, but the men arrested have not been identified. Meanwhile the FBI director who returned from inspecting the bombed US embassy sites in Denya and Manzania said 'no final conclusions' had been made as the matter was still under investigation…"
Olivia marched toward the West Wing and straight into Zeke's office. Finding it empty, she walked right out again and bumped into Cyrus.
Staring at him intently, she asked, "Where's Zeke?"
"I don't know where Zeke is! I want to know why I can't see Fitz?! Jerry wouldn't let me through, even after I told him it's an emergency! He said he was following your instructions!"
"What's the emergency?"
"We have a problem with the soil sample. It's disappeared. So has the field operative who found the sample."
"Disappeared as in… killed?"
"No! Disappeared as in, can't find him anywhere. He was a new recruit and he's gone AWOL. One of the Security Advisors has just got word that the soil sample came from a Milwaukee factory that was producing EMPTA for commercial purposes, but the CIA can't find the sample to confirm it."
"The CIA told Fitz the chemical couldn't be used for commercial purposes."
"Now they're saying it can be used to make pesticides. And we have a third problem."
Olivia folded her arms over her chest. "I'll bet this is a real prize. What is it?"
"The FBI made a mistake about the Saudi owner's connections to known terror groups. They raided the charity and found it was legit. They've been forced to release the guys they arrested without charge, and unfreeze the Saudi's accounts at the Bank of America. Fitz needs to know all this."
"I'll tell him. After he's had his nap."
Cyrus threw his hands in the air, and left muttering under his breath.
Huck called a short time later. "You were right."
"Big Pharma has been trying to shut down that factory?
"Yep. They tried everything from lawsuits to sanctions. It's worked in other places. They've shut down factories selling cheap medicine. But this little guy managed to hang in there, bypassing patent laws with local government intervention … uh, until the President dropped his bombs on the factory."
"Fitz didn't drop the bombs."
"The place was pulverised, Olivia. Like a sledgehammer cracking a nut."
Olivia was silent. So was Huck.
Then she sighed. "So it was all down to money again."
"Yes. The Big Boys don't like to share their toys. Only this time, they didn't want the little guy to have any toys either."
There was another long pause.
"Do you know where Zeke is?"
"He went out on a mission with Oscar and Quinn."
"Quinn? Our Quinn?"
"Yep."
Olivia was pacing the floor in her office when Zeke sauntered in.
"Busy?"
Olivia came to an abrupt halt and glared at him.
"Woo!" Zeke looked down at his hands. "Peep what that scorcher did to me. I sure wasn't this black when I walked in."
Olivia refused to smile. "Why didn't you tell me about Cyrus?"
The rogue smile on Zeke's face instantly disappeared. He turned to close the door and locked it before turning to face Olivia again.
"Cyrus is why I'm here. You need to sit down for this. You don't want to be standing when you hear what's been going down."
Olivia sank down slowly into the visitor's chair nearest her. Zeke dragged another chair next to her and took out his phone. "I sent Quinn down to the house of the waitress who worked at Hope's Diner that night. Turns out she works there every night – rain, hail or snow. She's the most reliable worker the diner's ever had."
"She heard what Hollis and Cyrus were talking about."
"You got that right." Zeke tapped the audio playback function and a recorded voice filled the silence in the room.
"Hello, ma'am, I'm a special investigator—"
"Ooh, they finally sent someone over. Come in, dear, come in." The street noise disappeared at the sound of a closing door. "I made that call days ago about those two gentlemen talking about terrorists and all." There was a pause, "This won't get us in trouble will it?"
"Oh, this information will be classified. It's only for people who need to know," Quinn's earnest voice replied reassuringly.
"Oh that's all right then. Helen, this nice young lady is here about my phone call."
"What? What's that you say?" A third voice shouted.
"Turn your hearing aid on, Helen! I don't want the whole neighbourhood hearing this conversation! It's classified!"
"Why are you yelling at me, Mary?"
There was a pause, then in a lowered tone, Mary replied. "You turned your hearing aid on. Good, now why don't make us all some coffee, Helen? And I'm sure this young lady would love some of your fine ham and pickle sandwiches as well."
"I sure would." Quinn said happily.
"All righty then, I'll be right back."
There was a long pause, then Mary said, "My sister hasn't been right in the head since the accident took her hearing and Lord knows what else. That's why she needs this job. Not many out there who'd give her a job and the ones that do, know it."
"Your sister was working the night those men came to the diner?"
"Oh no, sweetie, it was me! Helen had one of her bad days, couldn't get out of bed. So I sorta filled in for her. Didn't want her boss getting mad at her for calling in sick. It's not a problem, you see even our mother couldn't tell us apart, and I don't have much of anything to do since my coffee shop closed down."
"And you clearly heard what the two men said?"
"Oh yes! They weren't even trying to be quiet, given that Helen's deaf and all. One of the men, the one who did most of the talking, said he knew that Helen didn't like having her hearing aid on. He must be a regular but I'd never seen him before."
"What did they say about terrorists?"
"The gentleman doing all the talking said they needed a war. Then the other gentlemen spilled his coffee and made such an awful mess. But they both cleaned up the spill before I could get paper towels and the mop bucket."
There was a pause, then Quinn prompted, "What happened next?"
"It didn't make much sense to me. The gentleman who was talking too much—"
"The Big Talker," Quinn cut in.
"Why yes, the Big Talker said a war would bring out the bulls from Spain. Then he said no President got re-elected to office after starting a war, unless they were Republican and living in Australia. That made no sense to me. I mean why would a Republican want to live in Australia?"
"So when did they mention terrorists?"
"Oh that was after he said he was sorry he didn't have time to train another bunch of crazies to let loose on the world. He asked the other gentleman—"
"The Coffee Spiller."
"Yes, The Big Talker asked The Coffee Spiller if he had a tame terrorist group to call, in an emergency. I said as much when I phoned 911 from the payphone at the local Laundromat, but I muffled my voice so they wouldn't recognise me. But I guess they must have guessed somehow because you're here."
There was a long pause, then Quinn said slowly, "What did you tell the 911 operator?"
"Oh, let me see. I was so nervous and I was certain they thought I was loopy. You see the Coffee Spiller said he didn't want to call the CIA, and the Big Talker said he was going to Wag the Dog, and when I told that to the 911 operator, he just sighed and asked me if there was a real emergency. I mean if terrorists aren't a real emergency I don't know what is."
There was another long pause, then a rustling of paper and Quinn said, "Just to be sure, can you tell me which of these gentleman were at the Diner that night?"
"Hmm… Not this one, he's never been to the diner not on my shift or this one or… Oh! Here's the Coffee Spiller and that one there, he's the Big Talker."
Zeke stopped the recording and took out an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket, saying "CS is the coffee spiller and BT is the Big Talker." He placed two photographs face down on the table, which had initials scrawled on the back and an illegible signature underneath.
Olivia snatched the photographs up. CS was written on the back of an official White House portrait of Cyrus and BT was a photograph of Hollis taken from the OPA files.
Olivia made her way up the stairs, stroking a hand soothingly over her stomach, her heart growing heavier with each step.
Inside the master suite, she found Jerry, Karen, her dad and Felicia playing cards at the small breakfast table, with the dogs sprawled at their feet.
Seeing Olivia, the dogs happily thumped the carpet with their tails, prompting the others to turn. Karen was the first to react, dropping her cards to race up and give Olivia a hug, while Jerry said, "I had to call reinforcements. The traffic was getting heavy around here."
Olivia managed a smile, holding onto Karen, then she looked over at her dad and Felicia. "Thanks for coming to Jer's rescue."
"Oh, we're not here for him." Rowan said, "We're here to rescue Karen's Jelly beans." He nodded at the little pile of jelly beans in front of each player.
"Jerry cheats," Karen said in a loud whisper.
"I do not." Jerry said, reaching for a jelly bean on Karen's pile.
"Yes, you do," Felicia said, smacking his hand away.
"Jeez, Mom, they're ganging up on me."
This time with a real smile, she said, "Guys, don't gang up on Jer. And Jer, leave Karen's jelly beans alone."
"Thanks, Mom," Jer said drily as Olivia slipped into the bedroom.
Fitz stirred when she sat down on the bed to take off her shoes. "Hi," he gave a sleep-roughened growl, a slow smile spreading over his lips.
"Hi." She lay on the quilt beside him. "How's your head?" She combed her fingers through his hair.
"Better." He rumbled, closing his eyes. "I love when you do that."
"Fitz…" She brought her hand to rest against his cheek. "Cyrus planned the bombing on the Embassies in Denya and Manzania with Hollis."
His eyes flew open and he stared at her.
"Fitz…?"
Fitz pushed himself up on the pillows, rubbing a hand over his eyes.
"Cyrus… planned the Embassy attacks?"
"With Hollis."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Didn't you ask him?"
"He doesn't know I know."
Fitz held out an arm and Olivia eased nestled against his side as his arms wrapped themselves round her.
"Start at the beginning, Liv. Tell me what happened."
When Olivia finished retelling the events of the last few hours, Fitz was silent for a very long time. Then he said softly, "Cyrus planned the attacks."
"With Hollis."
"So we have one unreliable witness. Was there anyone else who overhead the conversation?"
"No."
"Then we'll have to get him to confess. We need a confession or we can't arrest him for Treason."
Olivia pushed away from him. "Fitz, Cyrus is your right-hand man, your longest-serving Cabinet member and the one who has had your back since you were a Presidential candidate. You can't arrest him for treason. You'll be guilty by association."
"He must be punished, Olivia."
"Not with more blood on your hands."
"I'll get the CIA to work on him." Fitz swept the covers aside and got out of bed, heading for the closet.
Barefoot, Olivia padded after him.
"You won't get the CIA to interrogate a confession out of him!"
"Then what are you asking me to do? Give him the Verna treatment?" Fitz threw over his shoulder as he grabbed an undershirt.
"No!"
Fitz swung round to face her. "Olivia, I ordered a missile attack which killed an innocent civilian because of that man!"
"Oh!" She clutched her stomach.
Fitz instantly dropped the shirt and sprinted towards her. "What?! What's wrong?"
"You can't arrest Cyrus."
Fitz straightened, looking at her solemnly. "Were you playing with me just now?"
"I'm not playing. We're talking about a man's life."
"Yes," Fitz turned away to pick the undershirt off the floor and drag it over his head "We're talking about an unknown factory worker who is dead because of me."
"Fitz, we're talking about Cyrus. Treason carries an automatic death sentence."
Fitz pulled up his pants and shoved his shirt tails in and zipped up, maintaining a stubborn silence.
"You are Ella's godfather." Olivia said softly.
"Dammit, Liv, don't!"
"You are Ella's godfather and you will be responsible for the death of her father. One of her fathers."
"Why are you trying to protect him?!" Fitz roared suddenly.
"I don't know." Olivia replied softly, holding her hands over her stomach.
Fitz grimaced at her protective gesture, then came close enough to slide his arms around her waist. "Livvie," he mumbled, his lips pressed against her forehead, "Cyrus instigated an act of terror. Two acts of terror. That makes him a terrorist."
Olivia drew back to look at him. "I know. I'm just asking you to consider if death by the State is the best form of punishment?"
He studied her face intently. "Then what do you think I should do?"
"Helloooo," Cyrus called out as he came down the passage towards the living room. "James? Ella? Anyone home?"
He came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Fitz seated at the dining table with Olivia and Zeke.
"Is there a party? James didn't tell me about…" He paused looking around, "Where is James?"
"James and Ella are in a safe place," Olivia said softly.
Cyrus paused, "You told Fitz and Zeke about the intelligence fiasco?"
"This isn't about the intelligence fiasco."
"Oh."
"Have a seat, old man," Zeke tapped the chair next to him with his cane. "Take a load off."
Cyrus glanced at Fitz, who hadn't said a word. Then sat down carefully. "So what's this about?"
"This," Olivia said, taking a piece of paper from underneath Fitz's unresisting hands and pushing it across the table towards Cyrus. "Is your resignation letter."
Cyrus started, grabbing at the sheet of paper, then stared wide-eyed at Fitz. "You want me to resign?!"
"Yes."
"Why?!"
"Denya and Manzania," Fitz said shortly.
Cyrus placed the paper back on the table. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure you do," Zeke chuckled. "We got evidence that you and Mr Wile E Coyote aka Hollis Doyle planned the Embassy attacks."
"You think I had something to do with the bombing of our embassies in Denya and Manzania?"
"Yes," Olivia said calmly.
Cyrus laughed. "Oh that's priceless. Where's the evidence? Show me the evidence!"
In response, Zeke pulled out his cell phone, and said with gusto, "It's showtime, boys!"
A second later, four masked men in fatigues entered the room and stood guard by the entryway.
Cyrus paled. "Who—" he began, but words failed him.
Zeke got to his feet. "These are friends of mine. I'd introduce you but the guys are a bit shy, and I wouldn't want to ruin your first date. They'll take you to a secret location where they'll take their time getting to know you, no interruptions."
"They are going to torture me?"
"We don't torture people here in the United States," Fitz said heavily. "It's against the US War Crimes Act and the Geneva Conventions. No, Zeke's guys will use the same enhanced interrogation techniques approved by the Bush Administration. These mental and physical methods of questioning do not fall within the new and improved definition of 'torture'. You're not allergic to dogs are you, Cyrus? I forget."
Olivia added, "Besides, a President has within his Constitutional Powers the ability to use whatever means of interrogation he chooses, to get information that would prevent future attacks on our nation, if we have already suffered a direct attack and are in the middle of a war, which I believe was your intent, Cyrus."
Cyrus stared at Olivia, then at Fitz, then he sat back. "Whatever confession you scare out of me will be worthless because it would have been obtained under duress."
Zeke chuckled. "That's the same argument used by the taxi drivers and goat herders we rounded up in Afghanistan and are keeping locked up in Guantanamo Bay. I gotta tell you, that defence ain't working so good for them, old man."
"You cannot just make me disappear!"
Olivia crossed her arms over her chest. "We will release a video for the benefit of your friends and acquaintances. It will show you with masked combatants claiming to have abducted you in the latest of act of terror. They will of course threaten to behead you or maybe chop off an ear, unless the US pulls out all troops from Saudi Arabia and stops being friends with Israel. Did I miss any part of your script, Cyrus?"
"I didn't write the script. Hollis kept me in the dark for most of it."
There was a small silence, the Fitz gritted, "Sign the letter."
"No!" Cyrus swung out of the chair and walked towards the doorway. Having his path block, he swerved and pointed an accusing finger at Fitz. "I made you!"
"Now you're trying to destroy me!"
"I did what I did to protect you! You were taking on the biggest armed militia in the country – the police! You've been shot once; do you want to be shot again – by professionally trained-sharp shooters with government issued weapons?"
Olivia crossed her arms over her chest. "So this was a distraction? You and Hollis cooked up a plan to kill over 300 Africans in three countries so Fitz wouldn't get shot by the cops in America? Don't black lives matter unless you know the individual personally?"
Cyrus collapsed into an armchair, as Olivia continued on a hard note, "Hollis played you. Big Pharma has been trying to shut down that factory for years, now it's destroyed just like they wanted, depriving several hundred thousand people of affordable medicine."
Cyrus stared at Olivia, then at Fitz, then he leaned forward rubbing a hand over his face. "So that's why…"
"Yes," Olivia said quietly.
"Sign the letter." Fitz said, wearily.
"What about James? Is he being forced to resign too?"
"No," Olivia shook her head. "He offered but I didn't accept. Instead James has asked for an extended leave of absence and that's been granted. He'll be leaving with Ella tomorrow morning for London. After that he'll be heading for Denya, and later Manzania. He wants to see what he can do to help rebuild their shattered cities in any way he can. He'll be gone for a year."
Cyrus stared at her. "A year?"
"Yes. You still have time to pack if you want to go with them."
"My guys will take you to the airport," Zeke smiled, adding "That offer by the way isn't open to negotiation."
"Before you go…" Fitz pushed the letter of resignation further towards the edge. "Sign this."
Cyrus stared at him. Then he got slowly to his feet and came towards the table. "So this is it?"
"Yes."
"What's going to happen to Hollis?"
"Sign the letter, Cyrus. Then we're done."
A/N: As you know from reading the last chapter, this one is a continuation of fiction based on history (with a sprinkling of current events). Namely the two 1998 US embassy bombings in Tanzania and Kenya during President Bill Clinton's term of office. And his bombing of a Sudanese pharmaceutical company as a result.
A year later (1999) it was reported that America got it wrong: Al Shifa Factory wasn't making chemical weapons (despite CIA 'evidence' to the contrary). It was making medicine as the Sudanese President, the Saudi factory owner, the Jordanian factory designer, the British factory supervisor etc had always maintained.
I.e. much of this chapter was based on actual events with a liberal sprinkling of conspiracy theory thrown in. Also the torture conversation was based on George 'Dubya' Bush's (*cough* Dick Chaney's) torture regime and the Torture Memos written by John Yoo.
Some of you were dubious about an individual being able to start a 'war' – yet here we are in 2014 post-Osama bin Ladin – a Where's-Wally/Waldo/Houdini mastermind who set off 'terror attacks' on several continents, evading intelligence agencies in America and Europe for YEARS while living in a mansion in Pakistan instead of a cave in the mountains of Afghanistan.
A man who single-handedly caused a severe reduction in our civil liberties, brought the airline industry to its knees, and made us all experience George Orwell's 1984 in real life. (BTW, those are the highlights without the benefit of proper research – namely Google search).
All that was in the Western World. In the Middle East, Africa and West Asia, people had the shit bombed out of them because (apparently) stopping Bin Ladin meant killing LOTS AND LOTS of people who looked nothing like this one man (or the people doing the killing).
Now we have ISIS to replace the Bin Ladin bogey man – to double the goodness of another Operation Bloodlust x10 and Drone War Games x1000.
Before I get carried away by sarcasm, let me say that I'm glad you are dubious of my plot devices. I wish more people were dubious of real life happenings. Then you could all go through life severely pissed off like me, ranting in Author's Notes like a real maniac. ;)
On that note, here are the references:
Al-Shifa pharmaceutical factory - Wikipedia
Soil Linked Sudan Plant to VX Gas - John Diamond, AP News Archive
Clinton knew target was civilian
Bill Clinton Bombs an Aspirin Factory
American-made Terrorists
Show evidence for Sudan raid, MP demands
The reasons
Sudan bombing: Clinton's lies exposed
The Al-Shifa factory was not making chemical weapons" - Interview with technical manager of bombed pharmaceutical factory in Sudan
.
Big Pharma's War on Health
Big pharma's excuses for the monopolies on medicine won't wash
Cipla chief Yusuf Hamied stands up against drug monopoly
India: Human lives vs pharma profits
.
Enhanced interrogation techniques
Torture Memos
Hard-working 'couple' revealed as four twins