Bang! Bang! {Part XVI}

Campaign trail three months later

"Okay Gerry, check your mirrors and honk when you are ready to let the lead car know to start," Olivia instructs.

"Thanks again Liv. I can't believe you got Secret Service to let me practice driving."

"Thank the back roads of Iowa and remember," she looks back at Karen and Teddy in his car seat, "This is our secret." She reaches toward the dash turning up the volume on the radio so they can all sing along. Michael Jackson's iconic voice rings out.

Don't blame it on the sunshine…moonlight…Blame it on the boogie…


Evening

Fitz reaches for his cell phone on the desk in the local campaign office when he notices the photo taken during their honeymoon of Olivia wrapped in one of his sweaters sitting against a tree watching the sun rise, "How is my sexy First Lady?"

A male voice responds, "Mr. President, so nice to hear your voice."

"Who is this?"Something is wrong…Remain calm.

"Who is not important; what is important is what you are willing to do…what are you willing to sacrifice for the woman you love?"

This cannot happen…what about the kids. "What do you want?"

"Simple, drop your bid for re-election and endorse the Nichols' campaign. You will comply since we are everywhere…Secret Service…local law enforcement…TSA. We expect a press conference within twenty-four hours."


Hours later

Fitz remains behind his desk frozen in fear when the door flies open crashing back against the wall, "Dad, you have to call the Army or Marines…everyone you are in charge of... She let them take her so we could go free," Gerry rants frantically. Karen enters the room in tears clutching Baby Teddy to her chest.

He pulls himself together enough to gather information, "Slow down…let me check you over,"

"We're fine," Karen screams. "You have to get her back. She gave me this…said you would find her." She pushes Doux Bebe into his palm.

He stares at the ring through tear filled eyes before turning back to his desk snatching the phone up and placing a call, "Huck…someone has Liv. Burn the world to the ground and bring her back."


Late night

Olivia braces against the wall sitting on the concrete floor. She refused to use the small cot in the corner supplied with a thin blanket and pillow. She reluctantly agreed to eat the rations provided only to get the black hood removed from her head. She sips slowly at the bottle of water to battle the roiling nausea of the past few weeks. The voices outside the room have faded which allows her just enough courage to move out of the corner to sit near the sliver of moonlight from the small window near the ceiling. After taking a deep breath she places her hand against her flat stomach. Don't worry Baby G…Daddy is on his way.


Elizabeth North disconnects her phone call. "Listen up, the package is secure so we need to prepare for tomorrow. Remember to take questions after your foreign policy address."

"Got it…what about the insurance policy to keep them both quiet?"

"About that…being Olivia Pope she convinced the hired hands to leave the children behind. Before you protest…as much as I hate to admit her version of the truth…she is right; leaving Grant without hope by taking everything that matters would make him dangerous and unpredictable."

Before Andrew can respond Mellie enters the room glancing between the two, "What did I miss?"

"Nothing, we were reviewing my foreign policy address. What did Cyrus have for us?"

"Actually he scheduled a few campaign stops for me to combat their 'Super Couple' narrative. His theory of the case keeps me focused on traditional first lady issues like literacy and nutrition but the more I make my Harvard education tangible the better we can cut into their lead among college-educated women."

Liz jumps in, "Sounds brilliant plus you create your own political platform."

"Great, I'm off…I have work to do. My flight leaves first thing in the morning," she states over her shoulder exiting the room. Cyrus' plan b is working like a charm.

Andrew turns to his partner in crime. "This helps keep her out of our way. She is not end game."


Pre-dawn hours

Fitz steps out of the bedroom where he left his sleeping children huddled together on the king size bed in his suite. "All I want to hear is answers, solutions…a plan."

Huck stands at attention with his arms folded stiffly across his back. "The mercenaries from Erik Prince's company were paid through an off shore account obscured by an LLC owned by Elizabeth North and a silent partner. The post office box for the silent partner is registered to Andrew Nichols."

Fitz's jaw clenches and his hands curl into tight fists. "Where is that son of a bitch? Wait, is Mellicent involved?"

Huck shakes his head, "No Sir, from what I know so far she is in the dark. The only thing you need to know is that Tom and I will have Liv home in time for breakfast."

The sound of the electronic lock halts their discussion. Agent Larsen crosses the threshold at a determined pace in a tactical uniform with a fully armed equipment belt. "We are ready to move."

Huck turns and nods before pivoting back to the Commander in Chief, "You do not want the details…plausible deniability," he bends down to retrieve his red Craftsman toolbox.

"Keep your phone with you. Agent Russell will contact you with the coordinates for where to meet us. Use the time you have to create a cover story with Whelan and prepare Wright to handle loose ends," Tom directs.


Early morning

Breaking news…Presidential candidate Andrew Nichols appears to have suffered a stroke…former First Lady and current fiancé, Mellie Vaughn leaves campaign trail…

The outdated, cramped medical room at Camp Dodge in Iowa reflects his despair. From the corner of the room he studies the faded beige walls, dull linoleum and depressing fluorescent lighting that amplifies his anxious wait. He looks up when he the whine of the door hinges signal the return of the patient from a series of test and procedures. Olivia's small frame is decorated with wires and tubes. She is all but swaddled in a pile of heavy blankets. "Mr. President," the military doctor greets from behind the medical staff.

The fear and uncertainty of the past hours erases the practiced political persona, "What did the test discover? What is the course of treatment?"

"As far as treatment goes we are administering a dehydration protocol. I recognize you are in the midst of a re-election campaign but extended rest is a necessity. I would recommend therapy to address the trauma." He looks down flipping through the papers in his hand. "The lab results show the pregnancy is progressing nicely and we will make sure she has a sufficient supply of prenatal vitamins."

Fitz's head snaps up from his focused stare at his wife in the hospital bed, "Pregnant."

The doctor swallows thickly, "I apologize…I assumed you were aware. She is between eight and ten weeks. Congratulations," he smiles.

He can only nod because the wave of love overwhelms his speech. Honeymoon baby. He doesn't acknowledge the other people as they exit the room as he moves to the side of her bed. He digs through the blankets and pulls out her left hand. "Livvie," he replaces Doux Bebe on her finger, "Thank you for keeping the kids safe. You're home so you can wake up anytime," he bends down to kiss her forehead before sitting in the visitor's chair. "Please open those beautiful brown eyes…we have to celebrate. We made a baby in Vermont," he squeezes her hand.