Thank you all for your reviews, favorites and follows. To the person who wrote about Charlie, you're right. I caught it when I wrote it, but decided it didn't bother me enough to change.

Chapter 3

How many times has Olivia heard the words, "The choice is yours" knowing she really doesn't have a choice? It is an impossible maze of twists and turns with no real exit. Because he holds the key. A cruel game he played then; a life or death game he plays now.

As a teenager, a resourceful one at that, it was she who had the last laugh. It was a difficult choice she made, that's for sure, but she left on her terms. Turned her back on her best friend. Turned her back on the woman who raised her. It was because of him, of his job and "impossible situation", his words, not hers, that the choice had to be made at all.

It took months of planning. Months of squirreling away money. Of hiding clothing. Of intense mental and physical preparation. He did that to her. His infrequent visits and empty promises of how one day, they'd be a real family. Always a promise he made as he was walking out of her life again. Leaving her to a virtual stranger, never speaking to her of her mother, of leaving her to fend for herself because trust, it was a foreign concept to her. After all, she couldn't even trust her father.

As she stands across from him now, she sees the cold-hearted, calculating stranger with the eyes of cruelty. The eyes of murder. Of pain. Of loss. He can and will take away everything from her to preserve his own legacy. So, what's the point? What's the point of even playing his game if he's already determined the outcome.

"I can hear you thinking. Rest assured, Olivia Pope," emphasizing her name, the name she'd chosen for herself, "you cannot outsmart me." Rowan is wrong to think that. Olivia learned long ago to use such a misconception to her advantage.

She thinks of Fitz and their new understanding. She knows he's going out of his mind with worry and that concerns her. How can she protect him at this point? What cards does she have left to play? She is here, at The Compound, in his territory and no one knows. If she is to prevail, if she is to outsmart him, she must think like him.

"Where's the bathroom?" she asks, with her best poker face.

Rowan tilts his head, as he tries to read her. Her face gives nothing away. "Down the hall and to the right. By the way, the windows are nailed shut."

And then disappears into the darkness as she yells over her shoulder, "Good to know."

Harrison twirls the phone in his hand as he paces. Back and forth he goes. Back and forth he goes. Quinn and Abby watch. He paces. They watch.

It's funny how things work. When Olivia is there, everyone seems to fall in line. They know what to do without words. Now, she's gone and they're lost. Quinn has grown tired of the endless keystrokes leading nowhere. Abby's vision is blurred and mind is tired as she tries to link the unlinkable, connect the unconnectable.

The only person moving, with an actual plan, is Huck, and he's not speaking to anyone. He sits alone in his office, staring at his computer screen. He hacks into camera after camera, tracing the black sedan. Then, the cameras stop. Stop recording. Stop working. The screen is black.

However, he knows the route well. Beads of sweat form on his forehead and his breathing becomes ragged as he recalls his time there. He could take it. He was strong and couldn't be broken. Liv, she thought she was strong but at The Compound, she is just another spirit they will break.

Huck shuts down his computer and opens the door. Harrison, Abby and Quinn turn toward him expectantly, but he says nothing. Quinn rushes toward him speaking in her rapid-fire way, "Did you find something? Is it something? Are you going to find Liv? I can help you with that."

He shakes his head as a wave of disappointment rushes over her. When he's like this, they all know to stay away. Let him work through it on his own.

While Huck is the one who is focused, Harrison is the one who seems most lost. Twirling his phone, no longer cool and calm; more like someone who is drowning, struggling for oxygen. A couple of times, he's walked away for some privacy, a very Liv-like move when she is hiding something. Harrison tries to play the boss role, the leader, but those are roles he doesn't wear well. Everyone knows it, but no one has the heart to tell him so they just let Harrison be Harrison.

But today, his phone has been ringing and the hushed tones he uses when he speaks raise Abby's antennae. The hushed whispers that have an edge. She's known him long enough to know when all is not right. He's pretending. He's anxious. He's...up to something.

Fitz sits at his desk, looking around his office, unable to concentrate on anything. Whenever his door opens, his heart lurches a little, hoping it's her. Instead, he's disappointed.

Huck hasn't called. Tom has found nothing. Cyrus is close to having another heart attack. And he is helpless.

Then, there's Mellie. She's a loose canon, ready to play the shocked, heartbroken wife for the American public, hoping to play on their sympathy.

He knows what he has to do. He knows what she would insist he do and that is to beat Mellie to the punch. Control the narrative, that's what she always said...says. What can he say? He can't deny her; he won't deny her.

His thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of his private line. He picks up.

"Mr. President?" The voice is barely above a whisper. Almost desperate. "It's Huck."

"Have you found her?" It's no time for pleasantries. He holds his breath as he waits for a response.

"I have a lead and-"

"What do you need from me?"

"Nothing."

"Where is she?"

"It's best you don't know."

Fitz sits straight up, afraid of the cryptic message that lies beneath Huck's words. "I'm the President of the United States. It is best that I know."

Huck sighs on the other end. "B613. There's a compound and I think she's there."

"Tom!" Fitz yells.

Tom rushes in, "Sir?"

"Huck, I'm going to send you my best agent-"

"Mr. President, I need to go alone. I know-"

"This is non-negotiable. Tell Tom where to meet you. Tom, you are to go fully armed and prepared for...just be ready."

Olivia looks around the bathroom for something, anything that can help her out of her current predicament. Huck always told her to go into a bathroom. Lock the door, double-check to make sure it works. Look for a window and if there is one, see if it opens. Look for a vent. Something to unscrew it with. Feel around for a gun. Then, wait, he will come for her.

It's a plan they'd worked out long ago. At the time, she thought he was crazy for suggesting such a thing but the deeper she delved into the underside of Washington, DC, the more she understood the why. And now, of all times and of all people, she is forced to depend on someone else.

She goes through the checklist. Door locks. There is a window; it won't open. There's a vent. She looks around for something to unscrew the cover, but there's nothing. She says a silent prayer as she attempts to use one her her well-kept fingernails to act as a makeshift screwdriver. It works. She carefully removes the cover and places it on the ground. She feels around in the dark shaft until she feels something cold and hard. She smiles to herself as she withdraw the gun.

It's loaded. It's ready. She is ready for the inevitable knock on the door. The plea to come out before he has to come in. Because if he does, it'll be bad. A threat, not empty, but filled with the promise of what will happen if she forces his hand.

So she waits. Gun pointed toward the door. Waits for the jiggling. The picking of the lock or maybe even kicking it in. She takes a couple of steps back, into the bathtub. She's not sure why, she just does. A quick calculation of his height tells her if she holds the gun at this height and this angle, she will hit him in his stomach. A bit higher and to the right, she can hit his heart. Higher still, his head.

She looks at her watch. By now, Huck will have hacked into security cameras, unless they were jammed. But he would figure the approximate route. He is the best.

Tom pulls off the road. Huck had given him directions, but they weren't normal directions, like turn right on Jefferson, they were landmarks. "Pull off the road at the oak tree 50 feet from the stop sign. Drive through the clearing. Make a right at the great rock, then keep going until you reach the pine tree. The highest one."

When he arrives, Huck is nowhere to be found. Tom exits the car, gun drawn. He doesn't hear movement behind him or see the shadows dancing across his car. "We need to be quick," Huck practically whispers, startling Tom.

"Okay, let me show you what I've got." Tom leads Huck to his trunk and opens it. He'd grabbed all he could carry and slip into pockets and bags. Guns, grenades, teargas, gas masks, everything he'd though they may need in case of the worst.

Huck quickly grabs what he thinks they'll need and closes the trunk. He starts shoving the munitions in every pocket he has, handing some things to Tom in the process. "We're going to go by foot the rest of the way. The house is in the woods. Deep. There are motion sensors on every side, but I've already taken care of them. There's a bathroom on the first floor, in the back, that's where Olivia will be waiting."

Rowan is used to silence. He can sit alone all day and listen to absolutely nothing other than the thoughts running around in his head. He is a soldier. This is his country. He thinks of the sacrifices he's made, all of them, including her and he can't say he has any regrets. It has all been worth it. For decades he's kept the nation safe. Sure, he has to engage in questionable behavior, but it's all for the greater good.

He'd tried to protect Olivia. It's why he left her. Why he did nothing as her mother shriveled away to nothing. It's why he left her with a woman who was a stranger to her, but whom he knew all too well.

It never should've come to this, he knows. Although, if anyone around him was competent, this would've been handled long ago.

He gets up from the sofa and calls to her, "Olivia."

She doesn't respond. It's not worry or fear that crosses his mind. Even when she was a young child, she took plenty of time to make sure her appearance was as close to perfect as possible. "Come on." He walks down the long, empty hallway, with a bit of pep in his step. He stops when he gets to the door and begins to knock. "Hey, we need to finish talking."

"I'm not finished," she yells back.

He shrugs as he sits on the floor. And waits. So used to the waiting. It takes him back to the time when he was just a field agent. How he would wait for his target, staring through a lens and waiting. Just waiting for the perfect moment, the perfect shot and when he had his chance, he took it. He always took an extra moment to really look at his work. Watch the blood squirt from his victim's head; perfect shot. The chaos that ensued on the street and the peace that occurred within him. He reaches in the back of his slacks and smiles when he feels his gun.

He stands, "Come on!" His voice a little firmer this time. His knock a lot louder.

On the other side of the door, Olivia remains calm. "Why are you doing this?"

"It's my job."

"It's always been 'the job'."

"My job is to protect the country. You are a threat to the country. Your relationship is a threat to the country. I always told you to think things through. Consequences. The consequence of your relationship with the President of the United States. Just think, if he is impeached, Sally Langston becomes President. That would then make Edison Davis, your former boyfriend, Vice President and the country, with a liberal and a conservative would accomplish nothing for the remainder of his term."

"A term that's lasting one more year."

"A lot can happen in a year, Olivia. Just look at your relationship with him. He was ready to give it all up for you until Verna – you didn't think I knew about her. Despite that, almost a year later and you're still-"

"In love with him. Yes, I'm still in love with him, but that's not something you can understand. You don't love anyone but you love your country. I get it. I want what you want. I want this country to thrive under this administration-"

"Let. Him. Go."

Huck taught her to engage. Keep him talking and distracted. I'll come for you. I will come for you.