Henry
Ever since Elizabeth took the position of Secretary of State, Henry had thought of scenario after scenario of all the awful things that could happen — everything that would get him and the kids whisked away to a secure location. He had never imagined it would happen so soon after she walked out of the front door, at this time of night. And he never imagined it would take this long to get information about what was happening, those minutes feeling like hours.
They had been sitting in the silence of Russell Jackson's office for ten minutes after being told that he would be by soon to let them know what they have gathered so far. Henry stopped giving halfhearted reassurances that everything would be okay, that their mom was okay because each one was like a dagger to the heart. He knew that they wouldn't help and that they would only end up falling short.
So, they sat there, and they waited as fear and unease chipped away at their resolve.
Conrad
Sweat and body spray hung in the air. Everyone was scrambling together as much information as possible, but that was nearing futile. The door to the Situation Room was opening and closing almost like clockwork, the light that came flooding in almost becoming more and more intense with each tick.
Conrad was grateful that someone had found something to connect the phone to, possibly a small speaker? He couldn't exactly tell from his spot at the head of the table, but he was glad. The audio became easier to hear over the whispers of those lining the walls. He was used to sitting and waiting, these things take time, he knows that — but just sitting there and listening to each thump of her heart, each breath, every syllable that she uttered… he felt impotent.
The door swung open again, revealing the Diplomatic Security Director who stepped inside with a grim look shadowing his features.
"Director, I take it you have some information?" Conrad swiveled to look at him.
"Yes sir. Some of my men have taken the statements of one Daisy Grant and Clarissa Reynolds. Using their accounts o-"
A short laugh came from the speaker. It was the first sound — other than breathing and heartbeats — that the line had picked up in five or six minutes. Like flicking a switch in the room — everyone froze in place, papers in mid-passing, conversations cut short. The room became uncannily quiet as they listened to what came next.
"They wouldn't have let me within fifty feet of this building had they known what was going on. Hell, I didn't even know all of what was going on. But," A sigh bounced around the room, "They didn't see a problem with the Secretary of State entering the State Department. They aren't at fault. If Russell were here, he would probably remark picking me up and throwing me into the back of the SUV if that was what it would take to stop me."
Russell let out a snort, "Damn right."
"So, no one knows what's happening here?" That was Blake.
"Well, they have probably talked to Daisy and Clarissa, but other than that, no. They most likely don't. So, they'll know that trying to send a team in would cause more problems than it would remedy," Conrad could basically see her shrugging, "But they won't know why or who, and they will lack basic information needed to get us out."
"If you don't mind me asking, ma'am, why didn't you tell anyone, your agents?"
Th-thump. "Six minutes." Th-thump, th-thump, "They gave me six minutes to decide before they shot one of you. If that's what it took to keep you alive and get two of you released," Fabric rustled due to what Conrad assumed was her shaking her head, "then I didn't have time to tell anyone. Someone would have been- Like I said, they didn't have a problem with the Secretary of State going into the State Department."
"Did she just admit to voluntarily placing herself in a hostage situation?" Russell's voice practically raised an octave, his hands clenched into fists as he held them up to his forehead.
Conrad turned back to the DS Director and nodded, "I'm assuming you were going to inform us that Secretary and her staff are being held hostage by who knows how many armed gun-men?"
The man nodded and tapped his notepad against his pointer finger, "There are three men — two visibly armed — and five hostages, including the Secretary."
"How?"
Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump. No one knew the answer to that question. Th-th-
"If I may, sir," Oliver Shaw turned his chair in Conrad's direction, "Someone is currently hacking into the State Department database. So far they have shut off the security cameras and the elevators, only turning them back on around the time two hostages were released and Secretary McCord… went up. So far it doesn't look like they are trying to access anything, it just looks like they are trying to keep us out."
Conrad nodded at him and then looked around the room, "So nobody actually knows what the hell is going on?"
Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump, th-thu-
"Great, this is just great. I always knew that woman would be the reason I had another heart attack. I mean-" He threw his hands up,"- just who the hell does she think she is? The Secretary of State can't just waltz into the middle of a hostage situation and act like everything's just peachy! This is a nightmare." Russell fumed and paced behind Conrad's chair.
Th-thump.
FBI Director Doherty spoke up, "We have teams in place ready for the go-ahead, but with such limited information, and the fact that they are armed and already threatened to shoot hostages…" He trailed off and bowed his head.
"Hold off for now," Conrad said.
Russell scoffed, "So, nothing. We have nothing."
Ellen Hill stood and cleared her throat, "I disagree, we have some information. As questionable as her actions maybe, she can handle herself-"
"It doesn't matter if she can handle herself or not, she just placed herself into a situation she knew she may not even get out of! She's a hostage. Do I need to remind you how bad this is? The Secretary of State. A. Hostage."
"There are much easier ways to kill someone than to hold up the State Department and keep the staff as hostages, Russell. She made sure we had ears in the room, we can hear what's going on, we will just have to… work with her."
Someone off to Conrad's right cleared their throat, making them divert their attention back to the DS Director, "She's right. There would've been easier ways to get to the Secretary. They went to great lengths to plan this, and they haven't harmed her, they obviously still have a use for her."
Conrad sighed, "Could they have had access to her schedule?"
"It's possible, but the Secretary left earlier than usual today, and was then called back into the office. If anything, they were expecting her to be there when they took over the floor, but-" He gave a short laugh and scratched his brow.
"But what?"
"The Secretary messed up their plan. If the time we were given of when they took over the floor is accurate, then she would have just made it into her office when they came up."
"So why wasn't she?"
"A dog, sir."
"A dog?"
The man before Conrad shifted from foot to foot, "Yes, sir."
Before Conrad could ask again, Russell spits out, "Feel free to provide more information."
The Director cleared his throat and nodded his head, "The Secretary was only a few minutes out when she spotted a stray dog. She insisted that they saw it. It had tags, and they were able to return it to its owner." He nodded to the phone on the table, "Her agents reported that she received a phone call, but they couldn't say much more than that. Once the call ended, she instructed one to call her and get their phone to you, and another to record what happened before then. She also said that agents would need to be there to take the statements of anyone who came out."
He paused before continuing, "From what we have put together, we believe that Secretary McCord negotiated with them. Two hostages for her."
"Let me get this straight; she got a call and was told that if she didn't present herself to them, a hostage would be shot, so, she traded herself for the release of two of them. She then proceeded to tell her agents to do something they didn't deem abnormal," His accusation was evident as he barreled on, "and the only reason we have half of this information is because of the hostages, and we have a dog to thank for that?"
"Yes sir, as well as-"
"Don't. Even. Say it."
Conrad closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. This was a mess. This was so like her, so like Bess — the dog, trading herself. He would have been a fool if he thought she would willingly leave her staff in there without putting up a fight. His mind drifted off to Henry and the kids; how could he tell them that the very systems put in place couldn't protect her when she went out of her way not to let it, how could he look them in the eye and tell them that they were getting her out of there? He admits it could be worse — they could be without live-audio, hostages could have been harmed, she could have been-
No. He can't do that. But it did get him thinking.
"How do we still have audio?"
His question took a second to sink in, people shot each other looks before looking back at him.
Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump.
Their silent question did not get lost on him.
"I mean, surely they would have taken her phone from her. There aren't many places to put it, and they would have noticed it in her hand or pockets. And when asked why she didn't tell anyone she only gave a half-truth — she didn't not tell anyone. Not to mention the heartbeat."
Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump, th-thump, th-thump, t-
Conrad watched as Ellen's face lit up, "Oh my god…" She turned towards him and let out a short, breathy laugh.
"What is it, Ellen?"
"They didn't search her. They didn't pat her down."
He furrowed his brows, and she pointed at the DS Director, "What shirt was she wearing when she left for the State Department?"
"Uh…" He looked down at his notepad, clearly picking up on the importance of it and not asking questions, "A deep maroon turtleneck."
Ellen let out another laugh, "That was a hell of a gamble."
"Ellen?" Conrad asked again. He wasn't afraid to admit that he was a bit lost.
"She put her phone in her bra." She paused before adding as an afterthought, "Sir."
Russell gave a short scoff, "The bastards didn't even pat her down. Maybe we have a way of getting her out of this after all."
Elizabeth
Elizabeth watched as Jay shifted uncomfortably against his bonds. He hadn't said a word since she got up here, but his pale face gave away everything she needed to know — not that she needed to read his face to understand. He was worried. Terrified. Knowing him he was probably only thinking about Chloe.
The kids. Guilt flooded through her. They deserved to grow up with both of their parents, but her decision may be the reason they won't.
That thought haunts her. But as she sits there, and thinks about it, her mind shifts to Joanna, Chloe, and Desi. They deserve to grow up with their parents as well. So, she may not regret choosing to trade herself — but she regrets the pain it may inflict on others.
"What would you say to them?"
"Ma'am?" Kat sat forward.
"If Chloe and Desi could hear you, what would you say to them?"
Jay met Elizabeth's gaze, his eyes almost distant, "I would make sure she knew that I loved her. No matter what."
"I would make sure Desi knew that he has a place in this world, that he should always stay true to himself." Kat gave the best shrug she could with her hands bound behind her back, "I would make sure he would never forget his importance."
She nodded at them and looked down at her lap.
"And you, ma'am?" She looked up and over at Blake as he spoke. He looked like he regretted the question the second it escaped his lips.
Her lips turned up a fraction, "I don't know. I would thank them. And probably bore them to death with as much advice as possible."
Blake seemed to accept that, he nodded and let his head rest against the desk again.
Elizabeth cleared the emotion out of her throat and focused on the only thing that wouldn't send her spiraling, "What was the situation?"
They gave her confused looks before Blake pulled his head away from the wood, obviously picking up on the fact that she was referring to work. "A situation in Ethiopia..."
For the time being, she would just have to do what she could.
They were brainstorming ideas when the dragging of a chair filled the room. 'Over-the-shoulder guy' was dragging a chair from the conference room over to them as slowly as possible, as dramatically as possible. Elizabeth didn't even acknowledge his presence as he placed it directly in front of her and sat, crossing one leg over the other — she simply continued her conversation with Jay and Kat on the possibility of Congress approving an aid package.
"We can have someone put some feelers out, but if the chances are that low-" She felt a hand on her knee, "We may have to think of something else." She looked down at his hand, and then up at the owner.
"Can I help you?"
He flashed a quick smile, "It is quite lovely to hear you using that brain of yours. But..." He trailed off.
Her gaze flickered back down to his hand, and then landed on Jay, "If there is push-back from the public, we may have a chance of swinging Congress, but-"
There was a flurry of movement in front of her, the heat of the man's hand left. As she turned her head towards him, she could see that he was standing just a step or two away from her, a single hand clenching and un-clenching at his side.
"I did not bring you here for you to discuss work."
She tilted her head ever so slightly, "So why am I here?"
He stood there, eyes glued to her, giving silence as his answer. She took that opportunity to pick up where she left off, "But it is highly unlikely. Especially when they are looking into cutting our bud-"
The rest of her sentence was cut short as his hand connected with the side of her face.