Chapter 10
Within 20 minutes, the Presidential motorcade arrived at Walter Reed Hospital where Fitz and Olivia were put in separate emergency rooms. While in the car, the agents realized that the President had been shot in his right shoulder. They also surmised that the bullet that entered his shoulder from the back had exited through the front and grazed Olivia above her ear, causing her more blood flow than damage. The President also did not have life threatening injuries, but both would be admitted overnight. Agent Larson had been in touch with Olivia's security detail who had attended the party as guests, but now were all hands on deck. Sully reached out to Huck, who also was at the party, but made his way back to OPA with his teammates to begin their investigation for their new clients: Olivia Pope and Fitzgerald Grant.
The President had been taken into surgery to assess the damage to his shoulder after a physical examination confirmed he had no other injuries. Across the hall, Olivia underwent a similar examination. She had been grazed above her ear by the bullet that struck Fitz. It produced a lot of blood making it look as if she'd been severely wounded, but Fitz unwittingly took the brunt of the force of the bullet. Her wound was cleaned, and she received three stitches.
Cyrus had made his way into her emergency room amped up and nerves frazzled to full charge. "Liv, my god!" He grabbed her upper arms and gave her a once-over.
"I'm fine, Cyrus. It's just a flesh wound. A few stitches and I'm all good. Any word on Fitz? A nurse told me he was hit in the shoulder, but nothing life-threatening. Where is he now?" Olivia asked hoping for an update.
"He's in surgery to close up the wound and assess any possible damage. He'll be sedated for a while, so if you're alright, you need to be the one speaking with his doctors. He's named you as his medical power of attorney," Cyrus informed her.
Olivia sat quietly for a minute and then nodded her head, "Has anyone been in touch with Mellie and the kids?"
Cyrus was the one to nod this time, "Yes, I ensured Secret Service had them secured."
"Was anyone else hurt?" Olivia asked after remembering she heard several shots.
"Thankfully no. There are rumblings that one of the Marines on duty is missing."
"What?! What does that mean?"
"No one is sure yet. His name is Travis Wayne Bickle. Twenty-eight years old. Right now, he's looking like a loner type."
"Travis Wayne Bickle," Olivia said as she instinctively reached for her bag to retrieve her phone but realized that she didn't have it with her. "I need to speak with Tom," she mumble to herself as she slid off of the exam table and made her way into the hallway to look for the agent. Olivia then remembered that Fitz was in surgery and Tom was likely outside of the operating room. He wouldn't be far from Fitz at a time like this. She looked around the hallway for any agent, but soon saw Bex and Sully. They both gave her a hug, then Bex handed her a bag with a change of clothes and comfortable shoes inside. "I lost my clutch with my phone in the confusion. I need a phone. Quick!" she insisted.
Sully handed her his phone. Knowing he had the number she needed already programmed, she searched for it and hit the call button. When Huck answered, all she said was, "Travis Wayne Bickle. He was on duty at the party last night but is currently missing. See if there is anything to it." Olivia ended the call and handed the phone back to Sully. "I need to get to the OR where they are operating on Fitz. I want to be there when he gets out of surgery."
Bex whispered something to Sully then left them to go to the waiting area closest to the operating room of the President. "Where are Kelly and Ben?" she inquired.
"Kelly headed to OPA. Between her and Huck, things should be secure there. Ben just went back to base. Tom has ordered several agents stationed around your apartment. He knows the President will be insisting on reinforcing your security." Sully stopped walking and gently pulled Olivia close to the wall and quietly began to whisper, "There has been an increase in white supremacist chatter online. We knew something may be coming, but we didn't know what or from whom. Olivia, I'm not sure the President was the target," he said with his hands now gently on her shoulders. Olivia just looked away at nothing in particular and nodded her head. "We need to get to Fitz's waiting area," was all she said barely at a whisper.
When they entered the waiting room, there were several of the regular Secret Service agents usually on Fitz's detail. Marcus was also there on his laptop typing but looked up when she walked into the room and gave her a relieved look to know that she was okay.
"Ms. Pope," the usually booming voice called out to her from the side of the room but with a much flatter tone.
"Senator, I'm glad you're here," Olivia sincerely said to the elder Grant.
Big Jerry looked at the side of her head, and a cold glare at the wound flashed across his face before he set his eyes upon hers, "You should be lying down, resting."
She shook her head a little too vigorously, remembering it was her head that was hurt. "It looks worse than it is. I was only grazed by the bullet that shot Fitz. How much longer will he be in surgery?"
"Hopefully not too much longer, being that it went right through his shoulder. It may take a while if any significant damage was done. Come on, sit down. You still lost some blood, so you need to take it easy," he told her as he guided her to a chair and sat next to her.
Just then, Bex entered the waiting area holding Olivia's clutch. "Found it. It was still in the Beast," she said handing the small bag to Olivia.
Although no words came out, she mouthed the words, "thank you" and tried to muster a smile. Bex just gently squeezed her shoulder and found her way to Sully to touch base. Being former Navy, Sully put out feelers with some of his most trusted servicemen to gather information on Bickle, if anyone knew him or knew of him, who were his drinking buddies, what were his hobbies, what was he like when in the barracks. Sully knew Huck would fine-tooth-comb Bickle's online presence, so he would do the same with his fellow servicemen. He had also checked in again with Kelly and Ben to make sure things were still quiet at base and OPA.
Olivia sat quietly for a while, still stewing in Sully's words to her. Was she the target of an assassination attempt? Was her life still in danger? Did this put her team at OPA in danger? She realized that she hadn't spoken with anyone from OPA other than Huck. She dialed Stephen's phone to check in with her crew.
When he saw her calling, Stephen answered on the first ring, "Liv, are you aukay?" he asked with a heavier than normal brogue.
"I am. Just a few stitches over my ear. Fitz is still in surgery. He was shot in the shoulder, but he should be okay. I haven't even seen the news yet," she said turning to the TV set that was on in the waiting area with the pre-empted news reports of the events of the assassination attempt. Cyrus was planted in front of it as if in a trance. She hadn't even noticed that he came into the room. "How are you all making out over there? Is there anything you need me to do?" she asked, not really knowing what to say.
"Just take care of yourself, Liv. We have everything handled over here. We'll find him and we'll get him."
"Do me a favor Stephen," she said. "Keep an eye on Huck. Something like this will surely trigger him, and you and the others need to try to keep him close, at least until I get back to the office."
"Done. And you try to get some sleep soon," he told her before she hung up without saying another word.
No one spoke for the next twenty-five minutes until the surgeon entered the room. Everyone immediately stood and circled around the doctor. "I'm Dr. Akbar, the lead surgeon. The President is fine. It was a very straight forward surgery. As you know, the bullet entered and exited his upper right shoulder. He should make a full recovery once the wound has healed, and he's completed a course of physical therapy. It's even better that it's his non-dominant arm. He should be able to function just fine while he recoups in a sling. I'm glad you're alright as well, Ms. Pope," Dr. Akbar finished as he took a quick glance at Olivia's head wound. He didn't say it out loud, but he thought how lucky she was that the bullet hadn't exited Fitz's shoulder an inch to his left.
"Thank you doctor. May I see him now?" she asked.
"We're setting him up in his room. One of his agents will escort you to his room once our team has him comfortable and the agents give us the green light for him to have visitors. He should be awake by the time you see him."
"How long will he need to stay in the hospital?" Big Jerry asked.
"If he has a good night, we'll probably release him in the late afternoon. I've been in touch with his primary care physician, so he'll be awaiting his return to the White House when the President is released."
Big Jerry stuck out his hand, "Thank you Dr. Akbar. I appreciate your taking good care of my son." Everyone in the room co-signed on the sentiment as sighs of relief and big smiles returned to everyone's faces.
XXX
Another twenty minutes passed before one of the Secret Service Agents in the waiting area was cleared to bring Olivia, Cyrus, Marcus, and Big Jerry to the President's floor. Once outside his room, Olivia suggested that Big Jerry be the first to visit with Fitz. "Why don't you go spend some time with your son, Senator."
"With all due respect Ms. Pope, I think you are the person he needs to see first. Put the boy's mind at ease that you're alright. I'll hassle him after that," he smiled and took a seat. Cyrus and Marcus both agreed with a nod.
Olivia was still in her gown, not taking the time yet to change her bloodstained clothes. She approached his door where Tom, slightly disheveled but nonetheless the sentinel, stood manning his post. "Hi Tom," she greeted quietly with a smile.
Tom just nodded and confirmed, "He's awake and has been asking for you," he said moving out of her way as she crossed the threshold into Fitz's room.
The President's eyes lit up when she entered, then reddened with unshed tears when he got a good look at her. The top of her ear had a large bandage, and blood had dried on her neck and stained her dress.
"Hi."
"Hi. How are you feeling," Olivia asked him as she poured water into a cup, put a straw in it and placed it to his dry lips. Fitz took a long sip before speaking.
"I love you. I love you so much," he declared as he took her hand into his left hand and stared into her eyes. "In the car…I saw the blood running down the side of your head, and I thought…," Fitz hung his head as the tears dropped onto his blanket.
"Hey…hey…hey, look at me. And here we are. Both of us fine. Alive and well and in love as ever," Olivia reassured him, but he dropped his gaze. "Look at me Fitz, look at me," she insisted as she gently cradled his face in her free hand and lifted it so they could meet eyes again. "I love you too. They didn't get us, and we get to walk out of here tomorrow and show that to the world." She wiped his tears and kissed his cheek. "Your father is here. I'm going to go get him so that he can see that his boy is okay," Olivia said in a tone mocking Big Jerry's way of referencing his son. "You good?"
Fitz took a deep breath in and out and nodded his head in agreement. Olivia got up and left the room to find Big Jerry to come and visit with his son. The elder Grant stood and wiped his hands nervously on the front of his pants and walked into Fitz's room. For the first time since meeting Big Jerry Grant a couple of years earlier, Olivia thought he looked old and haggard as a result of the night's events. For his sake, she was glad that Fitz did not have life-threatening injuries.
Big Jerry entered the room walking slowly to the bed. He and his son locked eyes, neither breaking the lock until the older man was at the side of the President. Big Jerry began by nodding his head several times, then speaking, "You must be doing something right as President if people want to kill you."
Fitz just chuckled, appreciating his father breaking the tense ice.
"I'm glad they failed, son." Big Jerry next did something that Fitz didn't expect. He reached over and began to smooth down Fitz's unruly hair, much like he used to do when Fitz was a small boy. The President, fondly remembering better times with his father, closed his eyes and accepted his father's show of affection. "You may have accomplished more than me, boy, but you will not leave this earth before I do. I'm an old man, Fitzgerald, so just let me have that."
"Yessir."
Big Jerry put his hands in his pockets and changed the subject. "I like her…Olivia. When I first learned of your relationship with her, I was very skeptical about her. But when she came to visit me at the ranch, I could see exactly why you chose her." Fitz looked his father in the eye as if a big secret had been revealed. "I see it too. There's something about her that reminds me of your mother. And seeing her…her mannerisms in the very home I shared with Tempey. I think I was a fan of Olivia Pope by the time she walked out the door."
"Sometimes I feel like mom sent her to me."
"If anyone had that kind of power, it would be Temperance. I know you miss her. I miss her too. I'm just glad she's not here to see this day." Fitz silently nodded his head not quite knowing how to have a conversation with his father anymore. Big Jerry straightened his stance and announced his departure, "Now that I know you're going to be okay, I've got to make a quick trip back to the ranch. I'd like to come see you once you are back at the White House and feeling up to visitors. I'll even bring some of that Scotch you used to sneak when you were at the ranch."
"I'd like that. And something tells me Olivia likes you too. She'd probably like to see you again soon." The men nodded at one another one last time before Big Jerry left the room.
XXX
Shortly after Big Jerry went in to visit Fitz, a nurse found Olivia to inform her that per the doctor who treated her wound, she was to be admitted overnight as well. The nurse guided Olivia to a room diagonally across from Fitz's room which allowed for her security and the President's security to act as back-up for each other. Olivia went into the bathroom only to relieve herself, but once she got a look at herself in the mirror, she took off her clothes, took a careful shower to get the dried blood off her skin, and put on the gown, robe, and footies provided by the nurse. She knew she had blood in her hair, but she'd decided to wait until she returned home to wash it in her bathtub rather than the shower. It was almost five in the morning, and Olivia was exhausted, but she wanted to see Fitz one more time before going to sleep. She made her way across the hall to his room where she found him asleep. Glad that he was getting some rest, she kissed his cheek and returned to her room where she climbed into the bed and immediately fell asleep.
Outside of the hospital, all hell was breaking loose in the media with the release of the shooter's name, photo, and eighty-nine page manifesto detailing his warped white supremacist ideology. The shooter was confirmed to be Travis Wayne Bickle of the Marine Corps. He hailed from Danville, Virginia and had been a Marine for the last six years. He'd never been married, and often had trouble keeping a relationship with a woman. Sully had learned that Bickle had liked a couple of fellow women Marines who declined his advances beyond friendship. He turned more resentful towards women, especially ones that were clearly out of his league, such as those who had reached officer status or civilian women who were very accomplished.
Bickle had worked security detail on a couple of previous occasions when the President or Vice President were attending large scale events in DC. His manifesto told of how he was disgusted that Grant won the presidency, and that the only reason he took the job to provide security for the administration was that he needed the work and his military benefits. He also saw it as a way to be close to those he found detestable and could affect the remedy. Of his eighty-nine pages, fifty-five of those pages mentioned Olivia. Bickle saw her as the harlot of Babylon, that she was the personification of the downfall of America.
In his low-lit closet of an office, Huck read each word of the manifesto. He kept count of each time that Olivia's name was mentioned and planned to make Bickle feel a special pain on a different part of his body for each of those mentions. He made it his mission to find Bickle before anyone else did. He had found Bickle's link to Danville, Virginia as well as several relatives that were still alive.
Sully had given an update to Kelly who informed the OPA team that Olivia was fine and resting, and both she and the President were scheduled to be released from Walter Reed later that afternoon. With the reassurance that their boss was fine, everyone with the exception of Huck went home to get out of their party clothes and get a few hours of sleep. Huck had a self-imposed mission, and nothing would deter him from his goal.
XXX
At 9am, Vice President Vargas addressed the country with the events of the night before, and reassured the American people that President Grant was indeed alive and alert and scheduled to return to the White House that afternoon. He also touched on Olivia's minor injuries, and the fact that the shooter was not successful in his attempts at assassination. VP Vargas did not mince words when he eloquently enumerated the shooter's failings in response to the thirty-two times Bickle had mentioned him in the manifesto and his outrage at America having a Latino Vice President who was not duly elected by the people.
This statement was played all day until the President and Olivia were spotted walking into the White House around 4:30pm. The world was now assured that the President was indeed well enough to govern, as his only hinderance seemed to be his arm in a sling. Olivia's hair mostly covered her fresh bandage that was smaller than the one applied to her ear the night before. When they reached the Oval Office, VP Vargas, the Grant children, and Mellie were waiting. The kids were ecstatic to see their father for the first time since the shooting. Mellie and Frankie greeted Olivia with hugs while the kids where huddled around their dad before letting him go to offer Olivia a hug too. Frankie gave Fitz a long handshake and a look that said, "thank you for not dying." Fitz and Mellie finally hugged for the first time since before their divorce years ago, but one filled with sincerity and friendship.
"It's good to have you home, Mr. President," VP Vargas offered as a formal acknowledgment. "Olivia," was all he could get out when he looked at her again, now feeling the anger of the situation. "This racist piece of shit isn't going to get far. As long as he's out there, my family and I are targets too. I'm not letting them off the observatory grounds until he is caught."
Everyone moved to sit on the couches. "I had a chance earlier today to read through his rantings," Olivia said through clenched teeth. "He's not a smart man, so it won't be long before he's in custody," she said out loud, but she knew how this was likely to actually end.
"I think you kids should stay here until Bickle is caught, and until we have a good assessment of other threats being made against this administration. Mellie, I'm willing to offer you security as well if you think it's necessary."
"Thanks, Fitz. I don't think I need added security, but kids, I think your dad is right. You should stay here under the extra protection of the Secret Service."
The Grant kids looked at each other and silently agreed before nodding their approval of staying fulltime at the White House.
"Frankie, I've ordered a thorough review of all the Naval and Marine officers who have access to the VP residence. Tom has reassured me your and your family's Secret Service detail has been re-vetted, and none need to be removed. I have declared a zero-tolerance policy on white supremacist ideology within the military which takes effect immediately."
The Vice President nodded his head in satisfaction. "Luna will definitely appreciate this," he said rising to leave. "I need to get back to my family now. I truly am thankful you two are alright. I'll see you tomorrow morning, Mr. President," Frankie said and nodded his goodbyes to the rest of the room.
"I'm going to go too. Come walk your mother out," Mellie said to the kids, then turned to Fitz and Olivia and gave them a look of relief that they were doing well and on the mend as she and her children left the Oval Office.
Once alone, Fitz and Olivia just held hands for a few minutes in silence before Olivia announce, "I need to go home for a couple of days."
Fitz looked at her stunned, believing she'd want to stay with him at the White House. "Olivia, you'd be safer here with me and the Secret Service."
"Fitz, there are some things I need to take care of, and I'll be in the most capable hands of my security detail, as well as Huck," she told him, not willing to negotiate or compromise.
"Will you at least stay tonight?" he asked.
"I'd really like to sleep in my own bed tonight. I just need to feel…familiar things right now. I also need to check in with my team at OPA. They need to know that I'm alright as well."
Fitz nodded in understanding. He leaned forward to kiss her gently, and they spent a few more minutes sitting quietly before she made her departure for home.
Meanwhile, at OPA, Huck was narrowing in on the whereabouts of Travis Wayne Bickle when his phone pinged with a text. The text came from an unknown number, and all it said was "STAND DOWN." Although he hadn't been associated with the sender for years, he knew exactly who sent the message, and that it was in everyone's interest to follow its instructions. He was very disappointed that he wouldn't be utilizing his toolbox, but he had no doubt that Bickle was still, in fact, a dead man.
Just under 48 hours after the assassination attempt, one car, then a second, pulled up to the door of an abandoned warehouse in West Virginia. Three men walked to the center of the large vacuous space where the likes of Travis Wayne Bickle sat on a folding chair placed on top of a blue tarp. Bickle was still alive, but his hands were bound behind his back and his ankles were tied to the feet of his chair. The three men, a stone-faced man in a black suit, a tall older man in a blue suit, and a younger man with striking light blue eyes, short brown hair, dressed casually in a Dickie's jacket while sucking on an orange lollipop, approached Bickle within six feet.
The stone-faced man walked square up to Bickle and just stared, then spoke, "Travis. Wayne. Bickle," he said enunciating each name. "Since you had so much to say in your manifesto, there is no need to allow you any last words. You have less than sixty seconds to live."
Bickle tried to seem nonplussed and responded, "Who the fuck are you?"
The stone-faced man steeled his face and answered, "I… am the hell and the high water," he said, punctuating each word with certainty. The man finished his statement by adjusting his suit jacket and walking back to his car.
The tall older man reached inside his jacket to retrieve a most magnificent gold-plated revolver with a pearl grip from his holster. He walked to the left side of Bickle, looked at the younger man who shook his head, then walked to the right side of the wannabe assassin, looked at the younger man again who this time nodded, placed the revolver to his right temple, and pulled the trigger. He wiped the blood off the gun with a cheap handkerchief, throwing the rag on the tarp at Bickle's feet, placed the gun back in his holster, then walked to his car and left the warehouse in satisfaction. The younger man, now alone with the body of Bickle in the warehouse finished his lollipop and proceeded with his job of clean up.
Twenty-four hours later, Agent Larsen entered the Oval Office with a folder for the President. "Mr. President, Bickle is dead. Preliminary reports suggest he died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound inside of a rundown trailer in a West Virginia campground. He had a police scanner inside of the trailer, and it seems he was aware that his location was close to being found. We'll likely close this case by the end of the day."
Fitz read through the file that included photos of a dead Bickle. He was satisfied with the outcome and called the Vice President and Cyrus into his office to debrief. Olivia had not yet returned to the White House, but they had stayed in touch over the past couple of days.
Olivia was at home in bed, but not asleep. Huck, who had a set of keys to her apartment, entered and made his way to her bedroom. He took off his shoes and laid on the bed on top of the comforter. Olivia turned in his direction, "Was it you?"
"No. I got a message to stand down. You know what that means," Huck said as he stared at the ceiling.
"I knew he was at Fitz's party for some reason. He knew something was about to go down, something serious. Serious enough to have him sneak into the President's private birthday party to see his daughter," Olivia turned and looked at Huck with a softened face, "At least you didn't have to let your guy out," she told him. Huck, on the other hand, missed his guy and felt excitement when he thought he would see him again.
"How does he know Big Jerry Grant?" Huck asked shifting the subject.
"He doesn't. At least not that I know of. Why?"
"I saw them huddled together talking at the party. Talking in a hushed way."
Olivia immediately sat up straight. "OH MY GOD!" she said, turning to stare at Huck with wide eyes for a few seconds, then she grabbed her phone and dialed a number.
The phone rang a few times before the person answered on the other end, "Olivia, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"
"Hi dad. Is that invitation to Sunday dinner still open?"
XXX
"Mr. President, Your father is here to see you," Lauren said leading the elder Grant into the Oval Office.
"Thank you, Lauren," Fitz said, closing the file on his desk and standing to greet his father.
"How's that shoulder, son?" Big Jerry said entering the Oval Office holding a cardboard box.
"On pace to completely heal. I should be able to start physical therapy in a couple of weeks. I'm not allowed to do any heavy lifting just yet." Fitz walked him over to the sitting area, "What have you got there?"
"Just some things from the ranch I thought you'd like. Talking about your mother the other day made me a bit nostalgic."
Fitz began to reach in the box and pull out items. First was a bottle of aged Scotch that Big Jerry had promised him during their hospital chat. Next was a photo album with page after page of family photos of the Grants with each other and with family and friends. He then removed a small square box with a gold antique pocket watch that belonged to Fitzgerald Grant, Sr. The final item Fitz pulled out was an elongated handcrafted wooden box. He laid it on the coffee table and opened it. Inside was his mother's revolver that was custom made for her by her father. The gold-plated pearl grip gun was one of a kind.
"Mom's prized possession. She always said this gun settled a lot of scores…righted quite a few wrongs. This gun has probably never been fired," Fitz said, running his hand over the craftsmanship of the weapon.
"Maybe you can make a place for it in your Presidential library, in honor of your mother. She always made a way to look out for you."
Fitz nodded, fondly remembering Temperance Grant and her protective nature of both Fitz and his father. "This would be an interesting piece for the library. If only this gun could talk, I wonder what tales it would tell," Fitz said as he closed the lid on the revolver and placed it on his desk.