Elizabeth

I never thought I would see anything like this here. Here in the US. Here in the country I've served and defended. I'm looking at this scared toddler who needs a diaper change, and my eyes fill with tears of anger. I am completely disgusted, and heartbroken.

"Secretary Elizabeth McCord!" My fists clench at the sound of Barker's voice. "You are trespassing on Arizona State property."

"Am I really?" I respond incredulously, my diplomatic savoir-faire, as Russell would call it, slipping. As my anger rises.

"You tricked your way in here, grandstanding on your self-promotion tour." And there it is. I don't why everyone thinks I am going to run for president. Why would a single woman run for president? All of my dirty laundry has managed to stay pretty hidden, I don't want the dirty details of my divorce all over, just so I can do a job I don't want to do. "You are a long way from the swamp you call home."

"Well, Governor. If Washington, DC is a swamp, what's this?" I counter.

"It's none of your business, is what it is. There is a sheriff out front with a warrant for your arrest." Now who's the one grandstanding, I think.

"Is he going to arrest Ambassador Lopez as well?" I counter hoping to deescalate Barker's mood.

"Mr. Ambassador, I'm sorry Secretary McCord dragged you into her little publicity stunt." It takes all of my resolve not to roll my eyes. Ambassador Lopez makes a ploy for his citizens, which provides me with a chance to calm myself down.

"You're government has no authority here." He says to Lopez and then he turns his attention back to me, "neither does yours ma'am." And I want to punch him.

"I think the ambassador's claim is on humanitarian grounds." I try to appeal to Barker's humanity, not that I think he has any.

"I don't care if it's on grounds of coffee. This is my state, my rules. Lucky for you, I'm feeling charitable today. You all can exit peaceably, through the back and without talking to any press, and I will let you leave this state without incident."

"Without incident?" Its Kat's turn to be incredulous.

"Look around Governor, we're passed that." I gesture to the kids behind me. Those poor terrified kids who miss their parents. And their parents, who are terrified for their children. Probably out of their minds with worry, when all they were trying to do was come here to collect the better life we promise them.

"I suggest you get moving before I invite the good sheriff in here to come get you." I think about leaving, but the baby's cry in the background riles me back up. I step up to the plate.

"You think you can intimidate me, or shut me up?" I swing and walk away, but Barker can't resist trying to get one up on me.

"Don't test Arizona justice ma'am." He shouts after me.

Henry

She looks beautiful. Which is not what I should be thinking, as I watch her make an impassioned speech through my TV screen. She is fighting for families, children. And that is part of what makes her so beautiful. She has such a capacity for compassion. I can't believe I ever let myself forget that. Most days I can't believe that I let myself fall so far into a hole that I lost her. We should be coming up on our thirty year wedding anniversary, and instead I'm alone, watching her on the news… Wait watching her get arrested on the news.

I jump out of my office chair, almost ready to yell at the TV, like I'm watching a high stakes football game and the ref just made a terrible call. What is happening? What can I do, to help? I pick up my phone to call the President, and then I pause. I don't have that kind of access anymore. I gave it up when I quit working for the Federal Government. When I left Elizabeth. She is being arrested for no reason and I can't do anything to help her. So I watch helplessly as a deputy loads her into a squad car.

Elizabeth

Sitting in a jail cell is not how I ever thought I would spend my thirty year wedding anniversary. Or what would have been my thirtieth anniversary. I keep waiting for the time when I won't miss Henry. I have been divorced for going on three and a half years. I have watched others get divorced and meet someone new and get married all over again in that time. And here I am just stuck. Still in love with the man who left me. I almost feel pathetic, but I don't think I care.

"Hey!" I call out to the guard, "Can I make a phone call?" He nods and starts fingering the keys on his belt to open the cell door. I almost lose my nerve on the walk over, but when I pick up the phone I dial the number.

Henry

What a way to spend this day. Reading through old love letters I found. I wonder what happened to these two twenty-somethings who thought their love could save the world. We were so sure of ourselves. I wonder how she's doing. I pick up my phone to call Stevie and ask, when it rings.

"Hello."

"This is a collect call from Elizabeth McCord" her voice breaks in soft and nervous, "an inmate at an Arizona Correctional Facility. To accept the charges please press zero" I hit the button, desperate to talk to her.

"Hey…" I hear the awkwardness in her voice.

"Hi, how are you doing?"

"They're letting me wear my own clothes, and I can make phone calls whenever I want so, it's not too bad. Definitely providing me with special treatment…" she trails off again.

Elizabeth

I don't know what else to talk with him about. I just wanted to hear his voice. To pretend to be close with him for just a few minutes. I feel tears start to make their way down my cheeks.

"How are the kids?" I change the subject to get rid of the shared breathing on the line.

"There doing okay." And we're back to sharing silence on line. Just us with nothing to say, as I dance over words in my head. Thinking of things I want so badly to say. But I can't speak them aloud, and risk his rejection. I don't know if I'll be able to pull myself back up again, if I needed too.

Henry

"I'm proud of you, for fighting for those families." I tell her as the automated voice says we have two minutes left on our allotted call time.

"Yeah?" I feel her doubt in that single word. And I remember all of those things I said to her three years ago. Those insults that were so cold and untrue. The ones I said to her, that I meant about myself.

"Yes, the world can always count on you to fight the good fight." I hear her swallow thickly, a telltale sign of her tears.

"Happy Anniversary, Elibet." I whisper right after the prison phone system cuts our call.