.o Presidential Attacks o.
Macey POV
"But I don't want to go to another stupid convention!"
I sighed, feeling the headache start to blossom. Out of everything my great, great grandmother's school taught me, dealing with angry politician's daughters was not one of them. Luckily for me, that is exactly what I happened to be for over fifteen years before I began my training.
"Look, Bianca, I know you don't want to go, but how about this? After you standing and smiling is over, I'll make your father let me take you out to have some fun?" I asked with a smirk. After I had graduated from Gallagher, and the last of the Circle was taken care of, I joined the Secret Service; and less than a month later was able to fulfill my desire to be the President's fifteen year old daughter's personal security agent, like Abby had been for me. It was great most of the time, Bianca was a lot like I had been before I went to Gallagher: annoyed, bored, and ignored except when needed for the camera. So it was easy for me to understand what she was thinking. Even if it did annoy her a lot.
The day I had met her, she was in her room; a Paramore song could have been heard from two corridors away. After the Secret Service agent got her to turn the music off, he introduced me as her new personal security. Bianca, true to the 'rich brat' persona, had huffed and rudely told the agent to leave. After he did, she stared at me for a while. When it was obvious I wasn't going to say anything, she raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "What, no 'I am here to protect you. Your safety is my top priority' speech?
"Well, you know, I would, but you just ruined it." I had smirked.
Bianca had blinked. "How old are you?"
"Nineteen," I had told her.
"Really, they're sending teens to watch me now?" She snorted. "How low on their priority list am I? Or did they run out of real agents?"
"You sound like you've had quite a few different personal agents," I'd observed, leaning against the frame of her king-sized bed. I had taken out my little dagger and was twirling it in my hand. That conversation had started to remind me of one I had like it years ago.
Bianca had crossed the room to her I-Pod player and was looking through her playlist. Apparently, I was boring her. Shrugging, she picked up a piece of paper I recognized as an itinerary and held it near her face to read it. "I wouldn't really say there was anything different about them; they're all nothing but big- ACK!" What the other agents were, I'll never know. Bianca had screamed and jumped so far backwards I thought she would run into the wall. She looked from me to where her itinerary was pinned to the wall by my dagger.
Pushing off the wall, I held out my hand to her while yanking the dagger out with the other. "I think you'll find that I am a little different than your previous protectors," I told the mini-me standing in front of me. "My name is Macey McHenry, daughter of senator McHeny of Virgina, and personally, I love 'Fences'. It always fit my mood the best." I smirked, playing said song on her I-pod and turning it up louder than she had it before.
The President's daughter had just stared at me, eyes wide. After a few seconds, she'd turned down the music and mumbled, "Giving me a headache anyways."
Raising my eyebrow, I had asked, "What? No, 'I don't care what you say. I don't need you'? No, 'Get out of my room and leave me alone'?"
All I'd received was an eye roll.
"Oh, silent. Is that the game now? Bianca, I know these games, and I'm not going to get annoyed with you."
Bianca only walked to the nightstand and popped an aspirin into her mouth. When she turned around, she crossed her arms. "I'm sitting in a room," was all she said, but I knew exactly what she wanted.
I grinned. "Made up of only big, white walls," I'd finished the Paramore line.
Finally, Bianca had smirked. "You weren't lying."
"Nope."
"You seriously know who Paramore is?"
"Of course. Also, Fall out Boy, Skillet, Panic at the-"
"Okay!" Bianca rolled her eyes again. "You're decent. I'll give you that. Don't expect me to actually listen to you though."
I'd grinned. "Where would be the fun in that?"
We had spent the next hour dancing and singing to Paramore in her room- until the Service came to tell us that if we didn't turn it down, Russia would start complaining. After a few weeks, I gained Bianca's trust. Now I was the longest lasting private agent Bianca has had since becoming the President's daughter. That would be the reason Bianca had come back from her tutor demanding that I get her out of the conference, where her father wanted her to make an appearance that day.
Bianca looked up from where she had thrown herself on her hotel bed. She looked me straight in the eye and narrowed her own. "You mean it? I won't have to sit through fake smiling and forced nodding while listening to boring discussions that will not effect me in the slightest for hours straight?"
"Would I lie to you?"
She contemplated this. "I guess not"
"Then come on," I said. I walked over to her I-pod player and played our new favorite song.
Singing along to Evanescence, she got two dresses out of the huge closest, then looked at me. One dress was green with a brown belt, the other was shorter and had black straps down the back. While the more stylish was the purple, she knew she couldn't wear something like that for a conference. I pointed to the green dress.
She stuck her tongue out at me. "You're no fun."
"And you're a brat."
Rolling her eyes, she changed and walked over to let me do her hair. One of the perks of being a Gallagher Girl: I was her favorite security guard and wardrobe and hair stylist.
"French braid. Not too tight. I don't want to look surprised the entire day because you don't know how to loosen your grip again."
"When have I ever done that?" I pointed at her with the comb. "You are making up lies about me and I will not have it!"
"I am not lying! The banquet, two months ago!"
"What- oh, yeah... Sorry about that."
Bianca pointed at me in the mirror. "See! You owe me an apology."
I tilted my head, pulling another lock of hair into place. "Hmm, considering your hair is in my hands right now, do you think it would be wise to boast?"
"If you do anything, I can always get you fired."
"But that means you would get a new, not-as-awesome-as-me agent." I tossed her finished braid over her shoulder.
Bianca's reasponse was cut off by a knock at the door.
"Miss Davis? Are you ready to leave?" We heard Katie, the woman who was in charge of Bianca's schedule, yell. At the same time I heard, "Peacock, is Nightingale ready for transportation?" in my comms. Nightingale was Bianca, of course. We came up with that codename when I heard how well she could sing.
Bianca turned off the music and looked at me; I nodded and winked. She took a deep breath, "Yes, I'm ready," she called.
"Nightingale is secure and awaiting transportation," said into the little microphone in my cuff. I smiled and whispered "It'll be fun."
"Nightingale is arriving on the scene," I said into my comms. We were entering the conference room; Bianca went to stand with her father and mother on the stage. While the interviewers and photographers snapped pictures, I scanned the room for security threats.
There were nine entrances and/or exits to the room. Three doors, four windows, and two air ducts. Snipers were a minimal risk, firearms seem to be cleared, the air ducts were cleared before we arrived; everything seemed to be secure.
That's when I saw him. Near the far, left corner of the room there was a man holding a camera with an abnormal sized lens but not taking any pictures. At least not of President. This man seemed far more interested in the security of the room.
"Beta team, I have a suspicious photographer. Black hair, blue jacket, brown shoes, left corner of the room." I said into my cuff. Instantly, three Secret Service agents were escorting the man out to 'talk'. Turns out his camera was malfunctioning, but we're keeping an eye on him.
After the photo and question portion was over, Bianca walked off the stage, straight to me. "That was not fun."
I just nodded. I was in 'Private Security' mode; she knew that.
Bianca and I waited until we knew she was not needed, then we walked out of the room. Instantly the head of the security team was in my ear.
"Peacock, explain absence."
"Nightingale, has requested to leave. Are we secure?" There was a two second pause, then-
"West side secure."
"East wing secure."
"North side secure."
"Sniper threats negative."
"You're clear, Peacock. Do you need backup?"
"No, but I am taking my car."
"Nightingale is still needed present, Peacock."
"Understood. She will be here when needed."
After we were cleared, I turned to Bianca. "Let's go."
She grinned, "I want ice cream."
We sat in the middle of the ice cream parlor, at the table facing the doors. A man with grey hair was sitting with a five year old boy behind me. On our left two girls were deciding what movie to see later. Bianca was sitting across from me. She was out of her green dress and in a cute blue top and white shorts, licking her mint chocolate-chip cone. I had changed too, instead of the Secret Service uniform, I was wearing a red top and black pants. We had a little more than half a hour to get back to the conference.
"Macey, how did you join the Secret Service?" Bianca asked quietly.
I turned to her from scanning the outside of the parlor windows. "What do you mean?"
"You're nineteen. You're the youngest agent I've met, not to mention girl agent," She said leaning toward me.
I considered how much to tell her, but then my internal clock struck 3:30, which meant we had thirty minutes until Katie started looking for Bianca. I sighed, "Come on, we have to go. I'll tell you later."
She frowned. "Alright."
It took us seven minutes to get to the conference building, then fifteen for us to get changed. Well, Bianca to get changed; I was ready in less than a minute.
"Peacock, what's your position?" I heard in my ear.
"Nightingale and I are in the west wing." I replied as we turned the corner to find Katie storming toward us.
"There you are! You need to be on the stage in two minutes! Come, come, come, stand here," she said pulling Bianca to he door near to the stage. When Bianca went to stand with her father and mother again, I went to my position near the stage.
It was almost over. The President said his last words to the audience. Secret Service cleared the way. We exited the building.
I was at Bianca's side; she always rode with me whenever she could. Her parent's car had just left, and we were waiting for my car to be brought.
That's when it happened.
I saw the man from earlier. He was standing among the bushes, nearly invisible. That's when I realized he was pavement artist. I saw him take out his camera. I saw him remove the lens to revile the little device hidden in it. It happened too fast; before I could say or do anything, I saw him twist the device in his hand. The comms went silent in my ear. The man tossed the device. I grabbed Bianca and shoved her down with me.
"Get down!"
There was a small explosion, but it wasn't until two seconds later that I realized what it was meant to do. "Hold your breath!" I yelled to Bianca.
The explosion may not have been big, but it released a large cloud of sweet smelling smoke. There were screams and shouting, but I only had one focus: keep Bianca safe. I heard a gunshot go off, but my comms was still silent in my ear. I grabbed Bianca and we ran.
Another shot went off.
I had to get Bianca out of there. I steered us toward where the emergency cars were waiting.
"Macey!" Bianca yelled. I turned and saw her dress was caught on something. Bianca was trying to extricate it, but the smoke was already making her movements clumsy. She couldn't hold her breath as long as I could. I turned and yanked her dress free- probably tearing it. I grabbed her arm and pulled her behind me.
When we made it to the cars, I practically threw Bianca into the bulletproof car. I dove into the driver's seat and hotwired the car. As I drove us away, I saw Secret Service agents running after the man with the camera.
"Macey, what's going on?" Bianca yelled as I sped us toward the safe house. She sounded terrified, but also like she was half asleep. This was bad. She needed to get to help now.
"You're going to be fine, Bianca, but do not go to sleep, okay?"
She nodded, her eyes wide with fear. When we finally reached the safe house Secret Service rushed out.
"I have her. She's unharmed but she's inhaled an unidentified chemical," I yelled as I helped Bianca out of the car. She was stumbling now.
When we were inside an agent tried to lead Bianca into a room. She yanked her arm away and threw her arms around me.
"I'm not going anywhere without Macey!" She yelled, her speech slurring now.
"It's okay, come here," I said leading her to a couch. Bianca finally relaxed for a second, before she finally blacked out in my arms.
Cammie POV
MYSTERIOUS ATTACK ON PRESIDENT'S DAUGHTER
Yesterday, March 7, an attack was made on, not the President, but seemingly his 15 year old daughter Bianca.
While leaving a conference in D. C. a bomb was detonated, releasing a large cloud of smoke and an unknown substance.
Gun shots were heard, but by whom is still uncertain.
The girl is said to be unharmed, thanks to her private security agent, but still unconscious from inhaling the unknown substance.
Reporters are still unsure if Secret Service know who is behind the attack.
I sighed and passed the newspaper to the boy next to me. "What does it mean?"
"I don't know, Gallagher Girl, but it was a good thing Macey was there," he said, sighing and placing the paper on the table.
We were sitting in the picnic area on the edge of Georgetown University's campus, near the river. Zach normally visited me on the weekends he (or I) wasn't on a mission. We normally went unnoticed- being pavement artist and all. The few who did notice Zach just knew him as the 'mysterious guy who shows up now and then'. Which we were perfectly fine with.
I had just heard about the attack on the President's daughter, and it didn't make any sense. "Who would do this? The Circle is gone!"
My exclamation was met with silence. "Zach?" I said, looking up.
He was staring at something over my shoulder. I turned to see a familiar back retreating down an overgrown path. I turned back to Zach and nodded. We waited about thirty seconds, then stood up and casually walked down the overgrown path. When we got to the hidden door I punch in the number code. We stepped in and scanned our hands and retinas. Then we descend the staircase to the man waiting at the bottom.
"Joe, what's wrong?" asked Zach.
"Is mom..." I trailed off.
"Your mother is fine, Cammie," my stepfather said. "I'm really here for Zach."
"Me?"
"Yes, the Secret Service have requested you," Joe replied.
"Why?" I blurted.
"Why do they want me?" Zach asked.
"The man responsible for the attack on the President's daughter was captured and is being interrogated now," Joe said.
"What do they this need me for then?"
"The man is not cooperating."
"So? This happens all the time," I stated.
"Yes, but this is different. The man said- and I quote, 'You can give me all the truth serum you want. Torture me for all I care! I am not opening my mouth!" Joe said.
"What does this have to do with me?" Zach asked.
Joe put on a grim expression, "Because he said 'I'll die before I say anything. I will only speak to Zachary Goode.'"
.oOo.