Chapter Five

Elizabeth

Elizabeth smoothed out the creases of her dress, then she stood in front of her desk, her gaze trained on the door. A moment later, the Russian ambassador barrelled in. He held his arms wide, a jovial greeting, and he sported an almost baffled smile. Though even he couldn't be oblivious as to why he had been summoned there today. Not when Salnikov's chat show had become a nightly occurrence, and the rhetoric about shutting the American embassy was the only thing that would distract him from his tirades about Elizabeth and the Dalton administration.

Elizabeth frowned at the ambassador, and she gestured to the chairs in front of her. "Take a seat."

The ambassador looked around the room, as if expecting others to join them, or perhaps he was still feigning ignorance about what this meeting was regarding. Slowly, he lowered himself into the seat, but he perched at the edge and gripped the armrest. "Madam Secretary, I—"

"I understand that you're intending to close our embassy in Moscow and to expel our diplomats," Elizabeth said. She folded her arms over her chest, and shook her head to herself. "I'm a straight talking person, Mr Ambassador, so I'll cut to the point. This escalation is unwarranted and it will not work in your favour."

"But—" the ambassador held up his hand.

Elizabeth's gaze sharpened, and she raised her voice to speak over his protestations. "I suggest that you speak to President Salnikov and rectify the situation immediately, or else the United States is willing to put any number of sanctions in place." What those sanctions would be, she hadn't decided yet, but Conrad gave her a pretty long rein when it came to the Russians. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

"I have to warn you, Madam Secretary, that any sanctions against Russia would be met in kind," the ambassador said. He leant even further forward in his seat; just a centimetre more and he would find himself on the floor. "Our response is to American aggression. You have brought this situation upon yourself."

Elizabeth scoffed. "We shut down the consulate because you were using it as a base for intelligence operations within the United States," she said. He opened his mouth as if to deny it, but she held up one finger and silenced him. "We have left your remaining consulates and your embassy open. Now, unless you want us to impose sanctions, I suggest you reverse your plans. You have forty-eight hours. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Madam Secretary." The ambassador stood up, a little stiffly, as if he had taken a physical beating to go along with the verbal one. He straightened out his suit, gave her a curt nod, and then marched out of the room.

Elizabeth rested against her desk, clutching the edges, and letting her head fall back, she gave a long sigh.

"Tough day?"

The voice jarred through her like the shock of toothache when taking a bite of candy floss. Her gaze snapped to the door. Teresa Hurst. Just what she needed. "Madam Vice President." She forced a smile so wide that her cheeks twinged. "How can I help you?"

"Not upsetting the Russians, I trust." Teresa raised her eyebrows. And was that a glimmer of hope dancing in her eyes? Or perhaps it was just a joke, and Elizabeth was feeling snarky. Living at a rave could do that to you. "You know, if you're having difficulties over the embassy, I could always speak to President Salnikov myself. We still have a cordial relationship."

"Thanks," Elizabeth said, and she retreated behind her desk, "but I've got a handle on it." She motioned for Teresa to take a seat.

"You know, I really admire the work that you've done during your time as Secretary of State." Teresa lowered herself into her seat, one ankle tucked behind the other, and she folded her hands in her lap. Prim and proper. "I'd like you to know that if I were to become president—" she gave a saccharine smile that reminded Elizabeth of Sweethearts candies, and she crossed her fingers "—your position would still be open to you in my administration."

Elizabeth's whole body tensed just a fraction, but she nodded. "Good to know." Her gaze flitted to the sea of paperwork on her desk, then back to Teresa. "Was there anything I could help you with?" Or was this just a strange kind of social visit?

Teresa's smile faltered, but she fixed it within a second. "I just wanted to check in on the status of the proposals sent out to the countries in the adoption scheme."

"We haven't heard anything yet." They'd only sent out the draft proposals a few days ago. They'd likely still be sitting in an inbox somewhere, waiting for someone to click on them.

"Well, I'd appreciate it if you would keep the pressure on," Teresa said. "I'm gaining support for the bill, but it will only succeed if these countries agree to the safeguards."

The safeguards that were still only in their preliminary stages and were far from being anything even resembling a signed agreement or piece of legislation.

"I understand," Elizabeth said, and she did her best to keep her tone level, "and I will follow up as soon as I've given everyone a chance to read the proposals in full." She stood up, her fingertips resting against the desk, hands arched. "The moment I hear anything, I'll let you know."

"Thank you." Teresa rose from her seat with the air of a cat being ousted from its favourite sunbathing spot. She stepped behind the chairs, but then turned and looked back at Elizabeth. "I hope you don't mind me saying, but you're looking a little tired. Is everything all right?"

Elizabeth's lips tweaked into the warmest smile she could muster. Positively arctic. Of course she didn't mind people commenting on how haggard she looked; why would she? It wasn't like Teresa had been the one to insist she pull an all-nighter. She gave a shrug. "Teenagers."

"Well, I guess I wouldn't know anything about that." Teresa flashed that acid smile again, and Elizabeth's mind screamed. Was there anything she could say without offending that woman? "Have a good day, Elizabeth."

"You too, Madam Vice President." Elizabeth's cheeks ached from holding the smile for so long. A 10k run would be easier than playing nice with her. As soon as the door shut, the smile dropped, she collapsed into her chair and let her forehead fall against the desk. She groaned. Why? Just: why?

The house was dark and eerily silent. What had happened to the protest music and the vitriolic break-up songs? Elizabeth pushed the door open, and tentatively—as if entering a scene from a horror movie—she stepped inside. She dragged one hand along the wall as she stumbled down the corridor. "Hello?" Her voice echoed through the hall.

"Through here," Stevie shouted back. And the thud, thud, thud of Elizabeth's heart eased.

DS agents had swarmed the kitchen. They all had torches out, the beams of light flashing here and there—so the rave wasn't truly dead—scanning every inch of the walls for the reflection of a lens. Others were stood on ladders, dismantling the light fittings and smoke detectors; more still knelt at the power sockets and unscrewed them from the walls.

Elizabeth squeezed her way through to the den. The kids were sat on the couch, their backs to their father as he sat at the table. Elizabeth leant over the back of the cushions and kissed each of them in turn. Jason flinched at her touch, but didn't push her away. That was something. Elizabeth then turned to Henry. His hand found her waist as she pressed a kiss to his cheek, then mussed his hair. His gaze was a little vague, but he attempted a smile.

"This is ridiculous," Jason said as one of the agents walked through the den with a radio frequency detector. He spun round to face his father, his brow furrowed in a deep frown. "Why can't you just have the decency to tell us the truth?"

Henry's gaze dipped to the floor, and his thumb brushed up and down the edge of the book that sat on the table. His jaw tensed, but he said nothing. Perhaps he had realised that trying to defend himself against their allegations was futile.

Jason turned his gaze on Elizabeth. "What happens when they find nothing?" He nodded at Henry. "Will you believe that he's having an affair then?"

"I'm not having an affair," Henry said, his voice low and soft, barely more than a mutter.

"This check is just a precaution," Elizabeth said. As Mark Greyling had pointed out at the time; they didn't expect to find anything. "The absence of a bug isn't proof of anything."

"Then what proof do you need?"

The lights flickered back on and the electronics beeped and whirred into life. Elizabeth shielded her eyes from the glare, whilst the kids buried their faces in the cushions. Henry closed his eyelids and then pinched them, as if he had a headache coming on. Though of course this whole situation was just one massive migraine.

"Ma'am." One of the DS agents approached her, holding a clipboard. "We've checked every room and all the appliances, and as far as we can see, the house is clean—"

"See!" Jason said, and the DS agent paused. Elizabeth shot Jason a look—being angry and upset was no excuse for being rude—then she turned back to the agent.

The agent cast a wary eye over Jason before he continued. "Of course, we haven't checked any of your devices—laptops, phones, et cetera. That's up to the FBI."

Up to Jon Smythe, more like. And she already knew what his reaction would be. Elizabeth gave the agent a tight smile. "Thank you."

The agent nodded, then stepped away and followed the rest of the team as they filed out of the house, leaving behind a cavernous silence that seemed to feed on the tension in the air. Elizabeth covered Henry's hand where it rested against the table, but he didn't respond, just continued to stare through her and into some distant space, the darkness of which she couldn't even begin to imagine. For once it would have been a relief to find out that someone was spying on them, that somehow they had invaded their home just like the stalker had; at least then people might believe her when she said that her husband was innocent. But innocence was just a single voice amidst a chorus of untruths.