Conrad
The Situation Room was flooded in light that was gone just as fast as it came, the door closing with a soft clunk as Russell walked out. People started scurrying about, half-listening to the conversation on the phone, half having their own conversation. Conrad couldn't help but smile as Elizabeth and the others worked on, well, work.
He was half-way out of his chair when the unmistakable sound of skin getting slapped echoed around the room. He felt as the surrounding room froze. What just happened was obvious. The man has just slapped someone and that someone could have only been one person. Elizabeth.
The anger and disgust that hit him were overwhelming and sudden, almost knocking his feet out from him as he stared at the phone.
He asked what everyone else was wondering, "What the hell was that?"
Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump.
Taking a deep breath, he looked around the room and saw a variety of emotions displayed on their faces — some barely showing, some right at the surface. Disgust. Disbelief. Anger. Fear: Outrage.
Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump.
The only thing that stopped him from slamming his fist into the table was the nagging reminder that he can't — not as the President, not as a leader. It wouldn't help. Not him, not those around him, and certainly not Elizabeth.
Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump.
He watched as Ellen's eyelids fluttered open, slowly putting back the pieces of her mask that fell out-of-place. A couple of hands fell away from faces, others slowly let the shock sink in as their faces returned to 'as-impassive-as-ever.'
Part of the man was glad Russell wasn't in the room. First off, he probably would have imploded. Or had another heart attack — whichever came first. His perspective, more likely than not, would have made the hush that swept across the room even more… muggy.
Could he even use 'muggy' to describe the atmosphere in the room? It felt like they found out a dirty secret — a secret that was very personal and could make the owner of it slowly crumble. It hung in the air; filling them with each breath, clinging to their clothes, their skin. Sure, 'muggy' could work.
Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump.
And secondly, Russell was going to give an update to Henry and the kids. Had Russell been in there to hear that… Well, that's just a completely different story.
Conrad slowly sat down, clearing his throat and focusing on just doing what he can in the situation they are in. He was just about to tell everyone to get back to work when Elizabeth's voice replaced the beating of her heart.
"I'm not here to work. Okay."
Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump.
"I can't be of any help if you don't give me something. Why am I here?"
The room slowly came back to life, time unfreezing. Good ol' Bess. She was always surprisingly good at acting like certain things never even happened. But that slap? It definitely happened. And all they can do on the other side of the phone is listen. Sit there and listen.
Elizabeth
Elizabeth knew that continuing where she left off was a risk — the stinging in her cheek all but proved that. Now, if only she could find out why. Why are they there? What do they want? He hasn't given her anything, and aside from the guns, he didn't look like he was about to lash out. He looked calm and in control.
The seat was reoccupied by him seconds after their skin came in contact. She opted out of looking at him and looked towards the others, their faces wearing the shock and anger that filled them. The clearing of his throat had her looking at him.
"I'm not here to work. Okay." She paused and tried to read him, "I can't be of any help if you don't give me something. Why am I here?"
He leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together in front of him, "Why do you do what you do, Madam Secretary?"
"Well," She inhaled, "I could give you a handful of reasons, but at the top of my list? Because I have the opportunity to make this world just a bit better, safer. I want that for my children, for every child, and for generations to come."
Breaking eye contact, she let her eyes rake over him. No rings, no visible tattoos, no birthmarks. Her eyes flew up to the chain around his neck. She had seen that before, she was familiar with it.
Someone behind her cleared her throat. Computer guy. The man in front of her got up and left, heading behind her. Man, she needs better names for the — 'computer guy' and 'over-the-shoulder-dude' just won't cut it. Or better yet, she could find out their real names.
The image of his necklace imprinted itself into her brain: McK. Damn.
Dipping her head into her chest, she whispered, "McKinley."
Yeah, it's going to be a long night.
Henry
Henry was on his feet the second Russell walked through the door. The man almost looked calm, and when Russell Jackson looks calm it's never good.
"How is she?" He asked as Russell finally glanced up from his phone.
Russell looked around the room, his gaze narrowing in on Stevie and then Jason and Alison, "I was expecting more than that. Nice one, McCords."
"Russell."
He let out a sigh and shoved his phone into his pocket, "Bess is fine. There is a situation at the State Department."
Stevie leaned forward in her chair and glared at the man, "A situation? You can't give us any more than that? We could probably find out more on the news."
Their gazes locked and, surprisingly, Russell was the first to look away. Yep, calm was never good. "Someone has taken control over the State Department, seizing the seventh floor."
Silence filled the room as they tried to comprehend the words that came out of his mouth.
"Are you saying that this is a hostage situation?" Alison was the first to break the silence, her voice soft yet loud enough for everyone to hear.
Russell's phone chirped. "Yes. There are five hostages." He pulled his phone out and glanced down while continuing, "There were six, but two were released."
"What do you mean?" Jason stood and stopped in front of him.
The man pulled his gaze away from his phone long enough to show that he almost looked… uncomfortable.
Jason crossed his arms over his chest, "You said there were six, two were released, but there are five. I'm no math major, but even I know that makes no sense."
"Russell?" Henry asked.
He sighed and put his phone away again, "There were six, yes. But two would only get released on the condition of another person. Six, minus two, plus one."
"Who?" Stevie was standing now as well.
Henry's voice was almost audible when he whispered, "Elizabeth."
"What? No way." Jason's arms fell to his sides.
A bubble of laughter escaped Stevie's lips, "How is that even possible? How did someone take over the State Department? The building where the world's most powerful diplomat works?" She walked over and sat next to Ali, pulling her into a hug.
The phone in his pocket chirped again, "Listen, I've got to get back. That's all I can tell you right now. Someone will come by with an update as soon as we have more information." He walked towards the door, his hand now clasped around his phone.
"Russell." Henry's voice had him stopping and turning around. "Two released for one. Did Conrad approve of sending her in?"
"No." He cleared his throat, "No, she was already in there when we found out."
Henry felt as if all the air in his lungs suddenly left his body. "She… she traded herself?"
"She did." And he turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Jason's hands clenched and unclenched, his anger clear and hiding the fear. The tears that Alison was holding back now fell freely down her face, Stevie was holding her in her embrace, her hand softly brushing her hair back repeatedly. Just like their mother would do.
Henry felt the anger build up in him, almost leveling out with the fear. It would be a lie if he said he was surprised that she had given herself up, no, he wasn't surprised about that. He was surprised that the day came. Surprised that she would be in a situation where she gives herself up because of the slightest possibility it may save someone else. But that anger? He wasn't expecting it to hit him like that. And he can't figure out if it's because of the people who did this, her actions, or both.
Jason turned and stormed from the room, leaving the door wide open in his wake.
"Jase…" Henry sighed and rubbed a hand over his chin. He knew Jason would want some space, but he also knows how bad it can be if he bottled all of those feelings up.
Stevie pulled away from Alison and looked over at him, "I'll get him." She tilted her head towards Alison and walked out, closing the door as softly as possible behind her.
Henry walked over and sat next to Alison, pulling her into a hug. Her voice was surprisingly clear when she asked, "Is she going to make it out of there?"
He kissed the top of her head and let out a soft sigh, opting to go with the truth, "I don't know. But I do know your mom, and she-" He chuckled, "If anyone can get themselves out of a situation like this, it's your mom."
Deep down, he really believed that. And knows, he knows that she can handle herself. Now all he can do is wait and hope that doing what she is best at gets them all out of there.
Conrad
"... child, and for generations to come."
Light flooded into the room as the door opened. Conrad was sitting, intently listening and staring at the phone as Russell walked back in and stopped to his side.
"They took it better than expected." Russell's phone clattered against the table.
Conrad leaned back in his chair, "Is that a good or bad thing?"
"I'm not sure, sir."
Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump.
"McKinley." Elizabeth's voice swept through the room. She must have been closer to the phone — much closer.
Russell crossed his arms over his chest, "McKinley. McKinley, who?"
"Come on, Bess, come on," Conrad muttered to himself.
"He's wearing the family emblem with the McK." Her voice sounded again.
Conrad clasped his hands and let them rest on the table. He glanced over at CIA Director Haymond, "Run a search on the remaining members of the McKinley family, and loop in the FBI."
The man nodded and stood, working to leave the room as quickly as possible when Conrad called out, "And Hugh, it goes without saying, do it quickly."
With a nod, he walked out.
Russell leaned in to whisper in Conrad's ear, "The McKinley family?"
Leaning into his hand, Conrad took a deep breath, "That would make sense. And it might make this situation even more dangerous. It's not fueled by politics or her position, it's personal between the two — that either adds to the fire or helps put it out."
"Sir." DNI Ware walked up to the empty side of Conrad's chair and folded his hands in front of him, "We know how they got in."
"Finally," Russell muttered.
Ephraim nodded in acknowledgment, "It took a while because we had to track down two men who work in custodial services; Owen Henderson and Royce Rosario. Henderson works the night shift, and Rosario works the day shift, but neither showed up today. They were found unconscious outside a bar that they go to on occasion. Both men are uninjured, but their passes were… gone."
"And just when we think this can't get any worse…"
He ignored Russell and continued, "The two passes were used to gain entrance, and once they got the cameras shut down, we believe that's when the third came in — bringing the guns with them."
"Worse, I'm telling you."
"Russell," Conrad warned with a raised hand. "Have we confirmed any identities?"
"No, sir. Looking at surveillance cameras, we have possible suspects but facial recognition is still running."
Conrad nodded, "Keep us updated."
Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump.
Russell cleared his throat and pocketed his phone, "Did I miss anything while I was gone?"
A few people around him stilled, only snapping back into action after receiving a look from Russell.
"I'm assuming that's a yes." He gave Conrad a weird look
Conrad smoothed out his tie, "You did."
"Sir?"
After clearing his throat, Conrad looked over at Russell, "He slapped her."
The color in Russell's face slowly drained as he rubbed a hand against the top of his head. He looked as if he was trying to figure out what to say, weighing it carefully. His gaze flitted over to the phone, the th-thump floating across the line, and then back over at Conrad.
"How'd she take it?" He finally asked.
"Like a champ…" Conrad's gaze landed on the phone, "How she always does. It was even a little diplomatic." He added with a chuckle.
Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump.
They stayed there like that, listening to her heartbeat, and waiting for information. Sit, wait, and listen.
Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump.
Elizabeth
The sting of the slap slowly dialed down to a pulsing along her cheekbone. Her tongue still hurt from biting it to stop the sound that threatened to spill out of her — the man had power behind it.
She listened intently as the men behind her whispered. Mustard stood, gun in hand, up against the wall where he has been the whole time. Who is he? And a computer guy? What do they want? Why are they here? There is a whole list of questions she'd like to ask, and it is a decent-sized list.
He walked back over and sat in the chair, a smile on his face. She stared back at him; McKinley, amber with flecks of gold… she knew she recognized those eyes, how could she not? Those are the same eyes that have-
Oblivious to her internal dilemma, he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, "Now where were we?"
"You were just about to tell me why you are here."
"Ah," He swept his arms out, and then re-crossed them, "Well, that's simple. My father is dead. And you are the reason why."
*Notes:
Thoughts?
Thank you for your patience! I didn't intend on this taking so long to write.
I promise, everything will come to light in the next chapter...but in the meantime, please enjoy this cliffhanger, because there totally hasn't been enough in this series.