Disclaimer: Terry chemistry and American Politics inspired this story.

Quote: We need leaders not in love with money but in love with justice. Not in love with publicity but in love with humanity – from the "The Birth of a New Age," address on 11 August 1956 by Dr Martin Luther King Jr.

"Switch the news back on again, Grandpa Pope," Jerry said softly, going over to pick Karen up in his arms and bring her over to the couch. "We need to know what's going on."

"Are they dead?" Karen looked towards Rowan, tears streaming down her face.

"We don't know." Rowan reached for her hand as Jerry put an arm around her shoulders. "We have to wait and see."

"HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN?!" Zeke roared to his intelligence chiefs who'd been dragged out of bed in the middle of the night.

"Texas wasn't on the itinerary. It's not a swing state."

If Zeke had hair, he'd have pulled it out in frustration. "I put a security detail on Olivia for this reason! I told you guys to not let Olivia out of your sight."

"We didn't – in all the places she was supposed to go."

"Yeah, she wasn't supposed to go to Texas."

"It was a surprise to see her chasing chickens on live television."

Zeke stared at them for a long moment. One of the men tugged his collar, others maintained a gaze, slightly left of Zeke's ear.

"We had people on the bus."

"We had people at each of the hotels they booked."

"We had people at every barn, factory, school, you name it."

"We didn't plan on them taking a boat."

The head of the Secret Service added calmly, "Tom is with them."

Another official from the Department of Homeland Security, said, "So is Mrs Grant's associate, the guy who is still on her payroll – Huck. Is that his name?"

Zeke took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Who is this Russian businessman? I need to know everything about him! YESTERDAY!"

"Yes, Mr President."

"Right away."

"Got it!"

"Pronto!"

Oscar was jetting half-way across the country with the most trusted and experienced members of the Rainbow Crew. No one was speaking. They were in Special Ops mode.

When their aircraft received special clearance to land, the crew trooped out and dispersed. They knew what to do and where to go.

Failure was not an option.

Back at the hotel, there was a knock on the door.

Leaving the kids on the couch, Rowan went to open it.

On the other side, waiting with a porter and their luggage were James, Cyrus and Ella, half asleep on James' shoulder, in her pyjamas.

"I have special permission from the President to be here," Cyrus said, stepping inside.

James moved aside for their bags to be brought in. "This is only temporary. The hotel's getting our rooms ready." Then glancing towards the couch, he added, "How are the kids?"

"They are upset."

"We are too." Cyrus removed his jacket. "James has contacts in the media. When we know, you'll know. This will be Command Central. Now where's the coffee?"

Carlita was next to arrive with her kids.

"We didn't want you to cope on your own. This is too big." Carlita gave the surprised Rowan a hug.

Her kids hugged the Grant kids.

"How is everyone?"

"Worried."

Carlita nodded. "We must stay hopeful. Always hopeful…. Now, is everyone hungry? Have you eaten? Let me order Room Service." Then she stopped herself. "Sorry, in times of crisis, I forget my psychology training and turn into my mother."

Rowan smiled. "Please call room service. There has to be a phone in here that Cyrus hasn't appropriated."

Across the country, Pastor Nancy Drake was disturbed from payer, by a call from Security.

"Ma'am, there's been a break-in at the church."

She got to her feet, donned her coat, and headed out the door.

When Pastor Drake got to the church, she found a crowd standing quietly at the front entrance with security standing silently with them.

"What's happened?"

"Pastor Drake, we heard about the Grants."

"We don't know what to do."

"We have decided to come together and pray."

Without a word, Nancy wove her way through the crowd and opened the church doors.

"Come on in."

In another part of the country, Preethi sent a text. 'Are you awake?'

'Awake and at the office,' Sameera replied.

'I'm on my way.'

Preethi arrived with coffee, donuts, vegetarian pizza, and halal kebab wraps. "I wasn't sure what you'd be in the mood for."

"I'm not in the mood for anything."

Preethi put the food down and gave Sameera a hug. Then she opened the door to their prayer room. "At a time like this, we need to pray. You pray to your God, and I will pray to all of mine that Olivia and Fitz will be found alive."

"InshAllah."

Sameera rolled out her prayer mat, as Preethi lit incense sticks and tea light candles in their domed glass holders.

At Jerry and Peter's old boarding school, the Principal, in the middle of writing a speech on resilience and strength, was interrupted by the Fire chief, calling to advise him of a fire in the auditorium. When he got there, firemen were walking out, telling him it was a false alarm.

When the principal reached the auditorium, he found teachers inside cradling fire extinguishers, watching the students seated on the auditorium floor.

"What the hell is going on here?"

"They are having a candlelit vigil for Olivia Pope."

"With 10,000 candles? Inside the auditorium?! Get them the hell out! Take them to the football field or something! And someone find me a bloody candle!"

Hank Guilford finished making two mugs of cocoa, donned his coat and headed for the stables.

Ginny was there in her wheelchair with her favourite Appaloosa mare.

"Our light is gone."

"Don't say that. We don't know that for sure." Hank handed over her mug.

They both took a sip from their mugs, lapsing into silence. The horse next to Virginia, snickered.

"Did you bring an apple for Celeste?"

Hank brought out an apple from his pocket and offered it to the eager horse. As the horse crunched her apple, Hank and Ginny drank their cocoa, lost in thought.

In the Prison Warden's office, Hollis Doyle was making phone calls, and getting increasingly irate by the second.

"Yes, I know what time of night this is! I'm in prison, not hibernatin' in a bear cave! Quit yappin' and listen – which mangy mongrel put a hit on Olivia Pope? Why do I care? Let me tell you, that's none of your gotdamned business! Yes, I know the woman put me in here! I lost my freedom, not my gotdamned mind! Oh don't you worry, I plan on settling that score in my own time, but I can't be settling no score with a dead woman. You get me? I need answers!"

"I thought you liked Mrs Grant." The warden handed over a plate of cookies after Hollis had banged the phone down.

"I do. But that's our little secret." He picked up the phone again to make another call.

In the Oval office, an advisor rushed in. "We've found the Russian businessman!"

"Bring him in."

"He's in Saudi Arabia, a guest of the Royal Family."

Zeke picked up the phone and made a call.

Breaking News…

First anchor: "Russian businessman, Yadev Koffinov, was arrested tonight by Saudi Arabian police after his host, a member of the Royal Family, handed his guest over to the authorities under pressure from the nation's King. Mr Koffinov is alleged to be the owner of the luxury superyacht, where he was scheduled to host a private party for Republican candidates for the White House, Mrs Sally Langston and her deputy Mrs Olivia Pope-Grant. Mrs Grant's husband former President, Mr Fitzgerald Grant was also onboard when the yacht exploded off the coast of Texas a few hours ago. Police are continuing their search for survivors…"

Second anchor: "Now, we're going live to the State Department for an update on the federal authorities access to Mr Koffinov. The United States has no extradition agreement with either Saudi Arabia or Russia, according to the State Department. Mr Koffinov is currently being held under Palace Guard at one of the Saudi King's official residences.

[Cut away to a US State Department official being questioned by the media], 'We have made it clear that we want to speak to Mr Koffinov and we want him alive. He is under 24hr video surveillance by intelligence agencies in three countries' No, the Saudi King will not give Mr Koffinov asylum like the Russians gave Edward Snowden. Yes, we have the Saudi King's assurance on that. Will the Russians let us have Koffinov for questioning? We're in negotiations. The President of the United States is talking to the President of Russia. We will update you, when we have an update. No, I don't know when that will be…"

Zeke put the phone down.

"What did the President say?" asked the Secretary of State.

"He said if the Americans don't have the sense to elect Olivia to the White House, then they have a place for her at the Kremlin."

"Olivia Grant has friends in all the wrong places."

"Or right ones. The Russians are flying our guy over. At their expense, with the CIA, MIA and Interpol bureau chiefs on board."

No sooner had Zeke finished speaking, than the door opened, and a security chief came over to hand Zeke a file.

After reading it, Zeke closed the file and looked at the man. "Where did you get this?"

"The KGB. Olivia has a lot of friends in Russia."

"Like I said," Zeke got to his feet, tucking the file under his arm. "Liv's got friends in all the right places."

Zeke was waiting in the basement interrogation room when Mr Yadev Koffinov was escorted in, handcuffed and in leg chains.

"Howdy," Zeke nodded at the man, who was placed in the chair, opposite, after his blindfold was removed.

Yadev blinked, then narrowed his gaze on Zeke. "You look like the President of the United States."

"I am the President of the United States."

"I am honoured. But this is not a very hospitable welcome. Is this how you greet all your Russian guests?"

"Only the ones involved in the murder of my friends."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"You are a man of many talents, Mr Koffinov."

"Please call me, Yad. I feel like you know me too well already."

"Yad," Zeke stressed, "Why don't you tell me how you got to be a guest in a Saudi Arabian palace and at the same time, host a dinner party for Mrs Olivia Grant, Mr Fitzgerald Grant and Mrs Sally Langston?"

"I am not a stupid man but you are not making any sense to me."

Zeke slammed his palms on the table and leaned his bulk over the other man. "Answer the question!"

"You can shout at me, imprison me, torture me, but my answer will be the same - I don't know anything about this dinner party you are talking about."

Zeke sat down. After a couple of minutes, he pulled out a photograph from the file at his elbow. "Do you own this?" He held up a picture of the luxury super-yacht, pre-incineration.

The man's brow cleared. "Yes."

"You deny inviting Olivia, Fitz and Sally Langston aboard your yacht last night."

Confusion returned to the man's expression. "Of course, I deny it. Why would I invite someone to a party on my yacht, when I am in another country? Besides, I don't know any of these people you are talking about."

Zeke stared at Yadev in silence, until the man asked, "Are you going to torture me? Pull out my fingernails?"

Turning his attention to the file on the desk, Zeke pulled out another document. "Did you sign this?"

"Yes, that is my signature."

"Insurance Fraud is a state and federal crime."

Yadev didn't respond.

Zeke sat back. "Let me tell you what I think happened. You insured your super-yacht for a billion dollars, then you paid someone to blow it up, with my friends onboard."

The man stared at Zeke, then he sighed. "I will tell you, because I like my fingernails. Yes, I insured my boat, and I paid someone to blow it up. But I made sure no one was going to be on it when it was time to go 'kaboom.!'"

"Why did you pay someone to blow up your boat?"

"Business is not so good. I have creditors. In the Russian Mafia. They are not very patient people. I didn't want to lose my fingernails, a hand, both my kneecaps, maybe my life…"

"You decided to defraud a US-registered Insurance company, create a catastrophe within US maritime boundaries and commit first-degree murder which is sure to get you a death sentence in the state of Texas – just to pay off the Russian mafia?"

"I did not murder anybody. I didn't think insurance fraud was a big deal in America. You get big, big payouts for big, big catastrophes. I did research. That American, Larry Silverstein, took out a 99-year lease on the Twin Towers in New York six weeks before 9/11; he was my inspiration."

"That was a terrorist attack."

"Silverstein insured those towers for a catastrophic event and got paid more than 4 billion dollars. He insured for a catastrophic event, and I insured for a catastrophic and we both got a catastrophic event."

"He got insurance to rebuild the property."

"Yes, yes. I plan to rebuild too. A smaller boat, less fancy, but still a boat."

"How did you do it? What did you use for explosives? Where did you get them?"

"I don't bother with details. I employ people to do that." The man got more comfortable in his seat, even managing a smile. "You should do the same."

A few hours earlier…

Abby and Quinn were flirting with a handful of men at the bar, or more precisely, Quinn was flirting at the bar while Abby smiled ferociously and refused yet another cocktail from an admirer.

Suddenly the dim interior of the bar lit up, as if someone had beamed a stadium light into the room.

Quinn and Abby grabbed their glasses, while the bartender and his assistants tried to grab bottles falling from the shelves as the ground shook beneath them, but in seconds the blinding light was gone and the earthquake stopped.

"What the hell was that?" People started crowing at windows.

"A fireball like I've never seen before."

"Bet that's what the dinosaurs said before they died."

"It's the second coming, man."

"The end is nigh."

Abby and Quinn raced outside.

"The yacht's gone!"

"That BITCH!" Quinn took off racing down the dock.

"Where are you going?!"

"To steal a boat!"

She jumped on the nearest boat, scaring the guy exiting the cabin below. In an instant, she pulled her gun out from her evening bag and pointed it straight at the man's chest.

"Hey, hey! Whoa! I don't keep valuables on this boat."

"We need your boat!" Quinn snapped.

"You want to steal my boat?"

"We need to borrow it," Abby stepped forward. "Our friends were on that yacht that got blown up. We need to find them before the sharks do."

"Your friends were on that boat? There ain't no way in hell anyone could survive that. They'd be toast. Burnt toast."

Quinn pointed her gun at his head. "Give us the keys!"

"Okay, okay! Jeez Louise, this one here is feisty!" He paused, "You girls driven a boat before?"

"No." Abby shook her head.

"Right, why don't I take you? Less work for the water police if I do."

Much, much earlier

…The woman in the red dress turned and smiled.

"You are not Sally," Olivia said.

"Oh, but I am, sugar, Sally Mae Reardon from the Southside Theatre Guild. "How are y'all doing tonight?"

"Where's Sally Langston?" Fitz asked sternly, walking towards the woman.

"I swear I couldn't tell you, hun, but she did ask me to play this movie for y'all. Please sit yourselves down in these fancy sofa bed kinda seats here. No? Don't wanna get comfy? Okay, as you wish. I'll start the movie now, shall I?"

Sally Langston speaks…

'…Olivia, Fitzgerald, it is with great sadness that I have decided to end the evening this way, but end it, I must. Every Commander-in-chief knows a few must be sacrificed for the good of the many; for the good of the country. I cannot risk the change you seek to bring, Olivia, changing all that is great about this nation, the only superpower we have left in this world. I cannot stand by and let you destroy what is not broken. I will not allow you to dismantle all that our forefathers sacrificed their blood, sweat and tears to achieve, I have no intention of contemplating the possibility that you will succeed where Fitzgerald failed…'

With her phone on the screen, Olivia walked backwards towards the door and switched on the lights. They all gasped at the sight of explosives, lining the walls from floor to ceiling, on either side of the door.

Then Sally Mae Reardon snapped, her southern accent not as strong. "My agent didn't tell me I was going to die! He said I'd be the star in a candidate spoof party! Man, I sure am going to sue his ass if ever get out of this alive!" She paused as smoke with a sharp, pungent smell, drifted downwards from the vents above the screen, making her cough.

"We need to get out of here!" Fitz caught Sally in his arms, as she passed out.

Olivia clicked send on her phone, then tossed it away, along with her shoes before running to help Fitz carry Sally.

They'd barely taken a couple of steps before the doors flung open, Huck and Tom rushed in. "We need to get out of here! There are no life jackets. The inflatables are riddled with bullets and there's a shit ton of explosives in the engine room." They stopped at the sight of the explosives in the cinema room.

"Out! NOW!"

When they reached the main deck, the sharp breeze seemed to revive Sally Mae. She came to, just as Tom said, "We need to jump!"

"I can't! I can't swim!"

"JUMP!"

The moment they hit the water, Huck yelled, "Dive! Dive! DIVE!"

As he and Tom grabbed hold of a screaming Sally Mae, Fitz grabbed hold of Olivia's hand and they both dived under, heading into pure darkness.

Jerry's phone vibrating on the nightstand by the opposite bed, woke Peter. He stared at the ceiling, disoriented. The bed next to his was empty. Shaking his head, he turned on his side, switched off the light and tried to go back to sleep.

Abby was checking her bag furiously under the dim lights of the bar.

"What are you doing?" Quinn hissed, undercover of a cocktail umbrella, while smiling at the guy next to her.

"My phone hasn't buzzed a message in at least 10 minutes." Abby looked up. "It's gone! Someone has stolen my phone!"

"You were charging it in the car."

Abby's look of rage dissipated as memory crept in. "Oh, yeah. Check your phone. I need to see if Liv's sent us a message."

"My phone's dead. I didn't have time to charge it because you were."

"What happened to your portable charger?"

"I left it at the hotel."

Oscar picked up Zeke's cell phone. "Your number's been ported."

"WTF?! That's a private number, plus I have security on that phone, and it gets checked every week."

Oscar held up the screen, which was displaying a SOS signal.

Zeke grabbed it, then said in a different tone. "Call the troops, something's going down and Olivia's in the middle of it."

Other than the grip of Fitz's hand and the burning in her own lungs, Olivia wasn't aware of much in the cold wet darkness.

She was trying to listen for sounds above the beating of her own heart, when a stunning flash of light lit the surface, accompanied by a muffled boom and an earthquake like vibration that propelled them forward in the water. Then large bits of flaming debris began shooting through, all around them.

In the chaos that ensued, Olivia realised that Fitz was no longer holding her hand. She calmed her momentary panic before looking among the flashes of light for her husband. Below her, she thought she saw a glimmer of white, possibly his shirt and made for it.

When she collided with a solid object, she grabbed it. Relieved to find she had a hold of Fitz but her relief was short-lived. He was unconscious.

Then her Fixer instincts kicked in. She wrapped her legs around him, trying to secure his heavy weight, as she began clawing her way to the surface, guided by flaming debris floating above her.

Hollis called the White House switchboard.

"Put me through to the President. This is an emergency. My name's Hollis Doyle. He knows who I am."

The operator called the President. "Sir, I have a Mr Hollis Doyle calling from a number issued to the warden of a maximum security prison. He wants to talk to you."

"Put him through."

Hollis didn't bother with pleasantries as he said baldly, "We blew up that boat."

"Who the hell is 'we'?"

"Our spooks sent ammo, guns, bombs – the whole kit and caboodle – to a bunch of troublemakers on the Syrian border. Or at least that's where they were headin'."

"That effin' boat blew up off the coast of Texas! Someone sure messed up their coordinates!"

"That's where it gets interestin'. Someone intercepted the shipment."

"Intercepted?"

"Stole it."

"How the HELL can you steal a shipment of ammo that huge?"

"I dunno. Same way you can ship a shitload of bombs to some gotdamned country to overthrow its elected government, crossing several international borders; when there's a will, there's a surefire hell way."

"Who stole it?"

"Damned if I know. Let me outta prison and I can find out."

Zeke grunted humorous sound. "Gotta go. I'll let you know if I hear anything."

Oscar called Zeke on his White House issued mobile phone.

"You're not going to like this."

"Spill."

"The yacht was headed for the Bermuda Triangle. A private contractor got the order to tow it back."

"Who hired the private contractor?"

"The guy was paid cash. Instructions came by email from an account that's closed, with a billing address of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW, Washington, DC 20500, USA."

"The White House?"

"Yeah."

Olivia crashed through the surface, heaving for air, feeling numb with cold and exhaustion. She got into floating position, relieved to see the inert Fitz bob up in the water beside her. She grabbed a floating piece of debris, not sure of what she'd grabbed as she fought back tears and spat out gasoline-laced salt water, trying not to lose consciousness.

"This is as close as I'm going to get to that mess. I'll damage my boat and insurance won't pay," The boat owner said, killing the engine.

"Don't you dare stop here!" Quinn pointed the gun at him.

The man folded his arms across his chest. "Shoot me. I ain't moving."

"I see something!" Abby yelled, halfway out the boat as she leaned over the rail, trying to get a better look. "OMG, it's Sally. That's her red dress!"

In a blink of an eye, Quinn had shifted her gun away from the boat owner's head in the direction of Sally's floating body, firing a shot before she'd focused on the target.

"Are you crazy?!" Quinn's second shot went awry, as the man grabbed her arm and pointed it skywards. "You'll kill her!"

"Yes! Dammit! That's exactly what I want to do! Let go of my arm, you moron!"

Then they all jumped when a voice bellowed through a bullhorn. "Put down your weapon! NOW!" Search lights were beamed on to the boat. "Put your hands in the air! And keep 'em where I can see 'em!"

Breaking News

"…Texas Water Police have found a survivor among the debris. We have confirmation that it's Mrs Sally Langston, the Republican Presidential candidate, reported missing, presumed dead after an explosion that rocked a Texas marina late last night…

…'We go live now to our reporter at St David's in Austin, Texas.'

[Cut away to a hospital spokesperson] 'She has a few lacerations, and bruises but otherwise she should make a complete recovery. Yes, those were her only injuries. Yes, we plan on keeping her overnight, under 24-hour police protection. No, she is not allowed visitors. No, she isn't ready to speak to the media…'

[Back to the newsroom]

'In further developments, Texas water police have made three arrests at the scene of the crime, with informal sources reporting that guns shots fired in the direction of Mrs Langston…Our reporter, Dianne, is at Police Headquarters with an update. Diane, what can you tell us about the arrests…"

' Texas Water Police made three arrests at the rescue site a short while ago. A man and two women were escorted off a private charter boat , in handcuffs, as Mrs Langston was transferred to a waiting ambulance by stretcher. The man was heard to say, "They tried to kill her. They tried to kill the candidate! I tried to stop her shooting the candidate but she said she wanted Mrs Langston dead!" Police are not allowing interviews at this stage and have not confirmed what happened, but the two women arrested were associates of Mrs Olivia Grant, part of the core team in her successful crisis management business…

The Attorney General was on the next flight to Texas as Cyrus called Zeke.

"They are trying to frame Olivia," Cyrus stated the obvious.

"I get that."

"James has a couple of contacts down there. Something's not right in the state of Texas. The cops have called off the search for more survivors."

"Like hell! When did that happen?"

"It's not official. But one of the cops was overhead ordering police search and rescue tenders to return to base, right after Langston was fished out of the water. You need to make a call to the Governor."

Zeke made a call.

The Governor made a call.

The Chief of Police made a call.

A plethora of calls followed, accompanied by lots of yelling and swearing.

Then the Chief of Police made a call.

The Governor made a call.

Zeke answered the phone. "Let me guess, the order came from the White House."

There was a pause, then the Governor said, "What the hell is going on?"

"Damned if I know."

"I got the order reversed. Our boys are back out there looking for Mr and Mrs Grant."

The team of divers surfaced in the middle of the flotsam and jetsam, looking through waterproof thermal imaging screens.

"I see something."

"Alive and breathing."

"Three people."

Oscar snapped. "Describe them."

It took several long minutes before he got his response. "Two men and a woman in a red dress."

"Red dress?" He asked the woman in charge of the Rainbow Crew rescue operation.

"Yeah."

"Keep looking."

An hour later, Zeke got a call in the Oval Office.

"We found her. She's okay."

Holding a hand over the mouthpiece, Zeke said to the people in the office, "Out."

When the room had emptied, the door closing after the last to leave, Zeke said gruffly, "Fitz?"

"He's unconscious. Has a goose egg of a bump on his head. The medics on our team are checking him out. But he should make it".

For the first time in several hours, Zeke sat down. On the other end of the line, Oscar waited in silence until Zeke was ready to speak again.

When he did, all he said was, "I'll let the kids know."

A/N: Took liberties with all the technical aspects including diving and swimming. :)

References:

Verdict in 9/11 insurance battle (CNN)

World Trade Center developer loses final 9/11 lawsuit against insurer (Reuters)