Author´s note: All right guys, once more it has been a while.…in short, as usual, I have been busy and my muse has had to slave away elsewhere. However, I´m back. Enjoy. :)
trininads: Heh, as for what Maya might be up to…we will soon know. As for Fitz, oh absolutely agreed. With all his flaws I always saw him as one of the more honourable characters in the entire show… Hope you´ll enjoy the next chapter.
IAMASCANDALLOVER: I was just teasing about the caps, so no worries. I took your excitement as a compliment. :) Yep, Tom´s reappearance miiight foreshadow stuff getting tricky now, but let´s see…
Noro: Thank you and sorry for the long wait.
SeptemberMom: Great to hear. :) And as you see the hurrying didn´t work out too well. Hopefully this new chapter was worth the wait.
Crabapplet: You´re welcome.
Clio1792: Thanks for all the nice things you said about the Liv/Fitz scene, it was really important for me to get it right because it did feel important to me. Interesting take on the whole Eli and Fitz thing btw because you are right, even though I never really thought that Fitz was "worked" for Eli as…intensely as say Jake or other people. Oh and Olitz will be able to go into more depth…but maybe not in this chapter, shit´s about to hit the fan ;)
jennkyle: No need to apologize. I hope the camping was fun and most of all I hope you´re feeling better. :)
kelleekellkell: Hope you´re on the edge of your seat, it means I did something right with this fic. :) Thanks for the review.
: Thank you. :)
Chapter 34
Springing the trap
The anchorman, one Jason Harrod, was probably in his late forties, he guessed. Fitz had seen him, occasionally, mostly reporting from places outside the studio but right now the man looked very pleased with himself in his light blue button down shirt and dark tie matching a navy blue jacket. All serious, professional, the kind of journalist Fitz had encountered many times in his two terms. The man´s brown hair starting to go a little salt and pepper at the temples, only adding to the gravitas of the news he was reading.
"…The information, leaked exclusively to CNN adds new fire to unanswered question of what really happened in that fatal night before the presidential elections last year." he announced. "At this point we do believe the material you are about to be exposed to is genuine and that more is to follow. The origin of this so far is unknown as is the identity of the person or persons involved, but we do believe that the American taxpayer has a right to know what is going on behind the curtains. And just like we have in the past exposed mismanagement and occasional controversy caused by any administration, we do want to add our two cents in hunt for the murderer of Jerry Grant."
Fitz could hear her enter from the balcony, her step slowing down, almost in shock. "It´s too early…" she muttered.
"What?" He could sense something was wrong.
"Huck hasn´t…Huck hasn´t called me yet. If this is out there without the feds being involved yet…this is giving him one hell of a head start." He turned to look at her, his arms crossed as he stood a few paces away from the large TV screen in the sitting room, a slight frown on his face. "What did Huck give the hacker, Liv?"
She gave him that look, that one look he had never been fully able to decipher and shook her head ever so slightly, barely noticeably. As her eyes searched the screen, he turned around to face it as well.
"What you are going to hear is an audio file. It has been edited but our experts here at CNN claim that apart from the very start everything you are about to hear was spoken by the same person. Edits probably involve a second person who for some reason or the other has been cut from the file almost entirely, apart from the first few words spoken and this is when you are going to hear static." The anchorman turned a little, shifting on his chair importantly. "Let´s hear it, Donnie."
The screen changed to a photograph of his deceased son with the words audio file clue to Jerry Grant murder? in bold red letters right next to itabove the ever rolling ribbon of other, right now far less interesting news and stock market ups and downs. What he heard next nearly froze his blood cold. Huck had altered her voice slightly, and Fitz had no doubt that it was fool proof, hiding, masking her identity to the viewers, but still… There was static first…and then…altered and cut down to the essentials, there was the very same conversation he had heard already, when Liv had come to him to tell him what she knew:
"You…KILLED A CHILD…Why?"
"There are things that you don´t understand, ...you do not understand the meaning of sacrifice. You do not understand the meaning of compromise. I left this man this…boy…in office. .. But things do come at a price. …
I am a MAN who is trying to shape the world for the most important person in his life… You have no right to be questioning that.
…child playing president, …Nobody is going to believe you anways."
His heart had done a painful leap when he had recognized what was being played, thumping against his chest. It was probably, he told himself, one thing to plot and a whole other thing to see plans playing out. It was something he had been through over and over in seven years as Commander in Chief, but never had something been so close to his heart. It was one thing to move troops on a map or to keep them out of harm. It was a whole different issue to see the media tear into his family tragedy. He had seen it back then. And now, this moment, woke bad memories of a time that he would rather forget, a time he had been to places far darker than he felt comfortable recalling in his adult life to this point, and that did mean something. But there was more to this, one thing in particular that was tugging at his heart, making his fingers tingle with the feeling of helplessness that he felt stubbornly he should not have to feel. Not with the world´s greatest army and the world´s allegedly most powerful office at his bidding.
"You gave Huck that?" His voice sounded hollow, a mix of reproach and suppressed concern, almost fear that he was trying to hide. How could he feel fear? It wasn´t right for him to feel fear. He shouldn´t have to. But that was the reality, the president, scared, of those more powerful. Those more oscure, more wicked than he ever could or wished to be. The fear that those people could hurt…her. And that she had, unnecessarily, just placed herself in the very line of fire.
She just gave him a look, the answer prompted by his rhetoric question.
"Liv, he will be in front of a tv or a computer sceen at this moment, watching this and he will draw the right conclusion. You are putting yourself in a danger that…"
"That´s absolutely necessary, Fitz." she interrupted him, her voice the kind of stern and serious it would always be when she was arguing a case she was convinced of.
"No, Liv, it was not." His voice, as he turned around to face her, helplessness seeping into a fearful anger as his eyes met hers sounded more forceful than he had intended. "Not with…"
"With boxes full of evidence?" She completed his sentences. So often did, one way or the other, in good times and bad. He opened his mouth, scowling, but she cut across him, doing a step towards him. He could see that flickering fear in her own eyes, that same fear he was unwilling to admit. "Boxes full of evidence leading to a part of your government that mustn´t exist. Boxes …proving that the American people were betrayed, spied on and mistrusted for years and that there were people pulling the strings that had never been elected into office." She shook her head. "We both knew that those weren´t the evidence we could be using, Fitz. We both knew that."
"We could select." He interjected, his tone matching hers, angry about his own lack of control and the anger seeping into his own voice. Angry because he wanted to protect her and why was she making it so god damn difficult for him? Angry because he felt so… helpless. "we could use those documents that hint at the murder and…"
She shook his head. "For now I trust Huck on this, Fitz…" Her voice was softer than he had imagined and for a second, when she reached out for his arm with her right hand he thought he´d pull away, but he didn´t. Instead he released a breath he hadn´t known he was holding. "Most of this stuff…" she said. "needs to go. We both know that most of the things in those boxes can never EVER see daylight again."
"That´s not right…"
He could not tell from the look on her face whether she admired him for his sense of justice in this moment or whether she was slightly, sadly amused by it, couldn´t interpret that faint hint of a smile. What kind of a dark place had the world become? Oh how he longed for those far easier times, when it was so easy to pretend that there were things such as white hats…
"What´s not right..." she corrected him gently. "is that my father walks around free with what he did. We might be able to use some of the material that was in the boxes, but most of it is a danger to this country." She was seeking his eyes and he met them. "Let´s trust Huck. He´ll have a plan on what to leak…"
"You were saying it was too early…" he reminded her of her earlier distress, regretting it immediately when he saw shock and worry cross her features and she fumbled for her phone. In that moment, her phone rang. She answered the call while still looking at him.
"Huck?"
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Kimi didn´t particularly like rain. Actually, she hated it. But today there was no way a little drizzle would ruin her mood. When she slowly walked backwards along the road leading into Chippowa Falls, the hood of her bright yellow raincoat pulled over her head just enough to make oncoming drivers notice she was just some sweet young woman and not a potential axe killer, the raindrops were falling into her face and pitch black bangs, slowly making their way down her forehead and into her eyes, making her blink every few seconds, but her mood could not have been better.
Her thumb out at the street as yet another driver passed her by she had to stifle a grin. All of this was so exciting. Even the rain couldn't wash away the thrill that came from watching the news and KNOWING she was responsible for the latest flashy headline, even her dumb old scooter breaking down on her way home couldn´t ruin her mood because she knew that while she had struggled to even put enough gas in that old thing up till now, she´d be able to get a brand new one in a couple of days. Hell, she could even get a car. A really nice one. If she was stupid that was. She knew she had to be careful. She trusted Finn, her hacker contact, not more than hackers trusted one another of course, but she knew the man (or woman, it could really be about anybody) was right when advising caution over tossing out the money that the CNN host had just transferred to that untraceable online account. But still, a car sounded just so nice. No rain. No being stranded just a few miles from home with a thunderstorm coming up. And yet: what was a thunderstorm to dampen the moods of her, Kimi, badass hacker that had helped expose the murder of the effing POTUS?
Another car passed her by after slowing down a little to inspect her. Stupid racists… She shook her head but the same pleased smile stayed on her face which she had barely been able to wipe away ever since she had left her computer. It had all been so easy and she felt safe. Dropping the bombshell right at the beginning of a new news cycle, it was a win-win, really. That prick Harrod had a news story to wank over, she herself finally had some money in her (virtual) pockets and what was more important: this would be her breakthrough in the hacker community, because she was not just some douche sending out classified documents en masse: she was someone that would help catch a child killer.
Of course she wasn´t stupid. She had sent the same document to the feds about two hours before she informed CNN: the audio file that was, plus some information the TV channel had not received but would, later: about the probable murderer, four files with information she understood half of but that looked like the guy, one Rowan Bishop, was pretty much done. It had contained the man´s address, current bank account data…no photo, unfortunately, because Kimi would have loved to see what the asshole looked like, but whatever. Her information would give the FBI a good head start to track down the asshole and get him before he´d be able to get away. All in all, she was pretty damn proud of herself. The future looked bright. She´d even find a way to get some of the money to her family without them growing suspicious. Maybe she´d fake a lottery ticket, something like that…a few thousand bucks would make her mother sleep more easily for sure.
It was getting dark and it was getting a little annoying that there was no sign of any charitable drivers today. She slung her arms around her coat and trudged on, turning and walking because she remembered it wasn´t far to a gas station that had a little diner attached to it. Maybe half a mile. Calling home from there wouldn´t make much sense, because she knew her mother was off to work, but she´d probably be more lucky there when it came to hitching a ride.
When she reached the place about 10 minutes later, she was chilled to the bone and adrenaline still high or not, felt like she direly needed a coffee first and foremost before even thinking of how she´d get away from here again. She walked to the counter of that dingy little diner and took off her hood ordering one, extra large, no sugar. "Any chance one of you guys is headed into town later and could give me a ride?" she asked the cashier. The guy could be no older than herself. He gave her a shrug. "I could." he said. She knew him, not by name, but she had been to this diner before. "but you´d have to wait some, I won´t be able to get off my shift for another four hours." While that sounded annoying it was a whole deal better than walking fifteen miles, especially in this weather. "Sounds great, thanks." she said, took her coffee and retreated to one of the booths towards the other end of the diner. Good thing she always had a paperback on her. Even though, she noticed, it was pretty difficult to focus with the TV on and CNN repeating over and over what she already knew…
She had been brooding over the same ten or so pages of Ernest Cline´s "Ready player one" for about thirty or so minutes when he came in. She guessed he must be somewhere in his late fifties. Wearing a long coat but looking like he could afford fancy clothes. The pants and shoes he was wearing, plus the coat, were pretty much top notch without trying too hard. He had clearly come in to pay for the gas he had pumped outside, but for a coffee as well and exchange a few friendly words with the guy behind the counter, just like she had, earlier. Big smile, stark white teeth, dark eyes that looked kind and yet very alert when he spoke. A few moments later, he walked over to her, coffee in hand. There was barely anyone else in the diner and his smile seemed open, non creepy, perfectly nice. She knew of course that looks could deceive, but there was something, she had never really noticed, that she would show more trust to non-white strangers. This case was no exception. Maybe it came with being a "minority" herself, thank you fucking European imperialism. That´s what she would have thought, had she been aware.
"Mind if I sit?" he had a rather pleasant baritone and Kimi inwardly affirmed her guess. Upper fifties looked about right. No danger there. She looked up from her book, eyebrow slightly raised.
"Sure." she said.
He sat down, put the paper cup down and shook a few water drops off his coat. "I really don´t want to intrude, I´ll leave you alone if you want to, but that fellow over there said you might need a ride into town."
She looked up from her book again, tossing a glance to the boy behind the counter who gave her a well meaning little shrug. "He said he´ll take me." she said
"Yes, I know, he said the same", the older man said resting his elbows on the table and interlacing his fingers comfortably. "I´m just saying that I´m just here for a short coffee and then I´ll be off again, he still has to work. You could be in town three hours early." He raised his hands in a friendly, open gesture. Like a politician, she thought instantly. This man was someone who could easily win people over. "Hey, I have a daughter too, older than you, but still. I just want to help." He took another sip of his coffee. "Can I leave my coat with you?" he asked then. "I´m going to head to the washrooms real quick and then I´ll need to be off. Think about it."
And just like that he left. Leaving his coat. Leaving his valuables. Pretty stupid, Kimi thought to herself. No, that tall guy of a man who already had a little aging stoop in his walk when he made his way towards the bathrooms was no danger. She´d be home three hours early. She had hitchhiked before. She was good at reading people. This one posed no danger. When the man came back, her mind was made up.
"All right let´s go," she said, finishing her coffee, taking over command and getting up even though she could see he was a little surprised at her reaction. He still hadn´t finished her coffee, but harmless as he might be, Kimi liked to be ahead of herself, always a step further and showing a stranger she was no shy, weak little girl was part of it. "And thanks."
"No problem at all." he replied with a genuine smile as he put on his coat and they left the diner. "What´s your name, by the way?"
"Lara," Kimi said.
"Lara." He repeated. "If you feel safer I can show you my I.D." he reached for his coat pocket.
"Oh that´s all right," she said, shaking her head and he abandoned that endeavour. "But you are?"
"I´m Eli," he said.