Freedom 13
When Shaan landed in Washington DC, the sun was just peeking over the skyline and it was shaping up to be a bright, sunshining day. A sunrise of pinks, soft hazy lavenders filled the sky and a glistening red, sun had begun to dawn. Much like London, New York, Paris and Dubai, Washington DC never sleeps. He was weary and tired. Shaan had been awake for close to thirty-six hours now. He hadn't been able to rest on the plane either. The only seat on the flight that had been available had been in economy and it had been a middle seat.
As Shaan made his way through Customs and Immigration, he was surprised at the speed in which he was processed, compared to the lengthy delays he had faced when he had flown in less than a week ago. So much faster now he had a green card. Finding his bag in baggage claim hadn't been as easy as he had hoped. With the last-minute flight, booking priority luggage had not been an option. But like with all weary travelers who needed a pick me up, upon landing, Shaan found a cafe in the terminal opening up and ordered himself a juice and bagel. When he returned, the luggage was just beginning to get loaded onto the belt.
Finally finding his lone bag against the chaotic sea of bags, he managed to flag down a cab and rattled Zahra's home address off to the driver. As the driver managed to merge into traffic safely, Shaan sat back and booted up his cell phone, just in time to be bombarded with messages from his love. As well as the President, and the First Gentleman.
"Change of plans." Shaan announced hastily. "Please take me to the White House and hurry."
The cab driver just nodded and began inanely muttering to himself. Shaan thought it best not to engage him in whatever had the driver irked. He was desperate to get to Zahra and did not want to risk the driver overhearing their conversation.
"Man, this is the closest I am getting." The driver muttered when he pulled up on the curb opposite the security checkpoint. "This is as far as I can go. It's been a crazy night and I ain't going any closer than this."
"Thank-you, here is fine." Shaan conceded. He could literally see the security booth from where he had exited the cab. From here, it was impossible to get lost.
Shaan handed over his ID, and was happily admitted, escorted by security. HIs Zahra met him halfway across the lobby, dressed more casually than he had ever seen her dressed outside of her their homes. "Get into these arms, Srivastava." She called out, as he set off in a light jog. "I've missed you."
He surprised even his security escort by breaking into a light jog towards his love. When he reached her, he twirled her round in his arms and kissed her, ardently. Looking his fiancée over carefully, he could see the worry lines and stress on her face. "What is it? What's going on?"
"Come on." She urged him, nodding to the Secret Service Agent that she would take it from here. She led him up into the Residence and not towards her office, which was a surprise. He had never been in the Residence before. He also chose not to comment on how dressed down his Zahra was. His Zahra was like him. Always professional and looking the part. He smirked to himself remembering that not too long ago, he had rushed to the palace in jeans and an old, ratty tee, when the news had broken of his charge's relationship with the President's son. Something had clearly happened.
"Shaan, welcome home, darlin'," Ellen greeted him warmly with a hug. As he returned her hug awkwardly, he was beginning to see the similarities between the mother and her son. Ellen may appear to be cold, and indifferent, like Alex at times, but like her son, she was a warm and affectionate person. She radiated warmth like Alex and that made it impossible to dislike. "I hope you had a safe flight."
"Yes, Ma'am." Shaan answered respectfully. He had worked for the Crown for so many years now that his response was automatic. "What is going?" He asked, looking between his fiancée and her boss, friend, mentor.
"What, is going is what I would like to know!" A voice boomed from the doorway. The voice had a lilt in it, that Shaan recognised from Alex. Looking up, he saw a man, about the same height as Alex with such similar physical features that there was no mistake, he must be Alex's father. "I find out from Raf, of all people, that my son hasn't been seen in a week. I assumed he is London with Henry. When I told him as much, he said his friend in the UK told him that there's whispers that the prince is missing too. I catch an emergency flight to DC, because my ex-wife has yet again not filled me in on pertinent information about our children. Only, when I landed, I was ambushed by a lone reporter asking me about my son and the prince's whereabouts. Telling me that both of them are missing and that the Royal Family and the White House have no idea where they are. Ellen, I demand to know. Where is my son?"
"Calm down, Oscar! Geez!" Ellen sighed in a huff of frustration. "We know where he is, and we know he is safe."
"Where the hell is he and why the hell is it such a secret?" Oscar argued, vehemently. He was not in the mood for his ex-wife's bullshit. Looking around, Oscar noticed that they weren't alone. Turning to see the man standing awfully close to Zahra, he held out his hand in a handshake. "I apologize, I did not see you there. I am Oscar Diaz, Alex's father."
"Senator Oscar Diaz." Zahra whispered to her fiancé. Even though they were in the White House, she needed Shaan to know the correct titles. They were all being watched so closely by the press; they didn't need an inhouse scandal of her fiancé arguing with the president's ex-husband. The press already knows how close and intertwined she is with the first family.
"Senator Diaz, it is a pleasure. I have heard so many wonderful things about you from both your son and His Royal Highness." Shaan smiled genuinely. Inside, he was pleased to be meeting Alex's father. He had actually heard so much about the man from Henry, rather than Alex. Despite the fallout from what had happened at the lake house and the subsequent reunion, Henry had been quite vocal in his admiration for Alex's father. Bragging quite vocally that Senator Oscar Diaz was actually known as the 'patron saint of gender-neutral bathrooms in California' in political circles. That it was an accomplishment the prince had admired deeply. "I am Shaan Srivastava. Equerry to His Royal Highness Prince Henry."
"And my fiancé." Zahra added, looking up at Shaan, lovingly.
"What's going on?!" A new voice from the doorway demanded in the form of a sleepy June. She was flanked by Bea, Nora and Pez. "Dad, what are you doing here?" June asked again, surprised to see her father here.
"Shaan?" Bea asked, looking over at the man she had known her whole life. The man that her father had trusted to care for them after his death. The man who he had organised to be Henry's equerry, in order to make sure that her father's favourite son was always cared for.
"Your Royal Highness." Shaan greeted Beatrice, with a bow from the neck. "I am relieved to see you in one piece. When you have a moment, I have something from you from Princess Catherine."
"Look, everyone is high strung." Oscar tried to diffuse the tension. "We all need to take a collective breath and chill out. Then I suggest that those with answers start talking."
Henry was trying really hard not to panic, but knew he was failing. Alex was doing so well, holding it together for the both of him, but Henry could tell he was just as scared. The sounds of the helicopter had begun its assault in their ears. "Ready Baby?" Alex asked, gripping henry's hand and giving it a squeeze of comfort.
They were standing on the back alfresco area of the house. Their backpacks on their shoulders and their small cases standing upright, handles drawn up, ready to make a run for it. Zahra had told Alex that the chopper would only be on the ground for ninety seconds, that they needed to be ready. That it would let Leo's cousin's security team disembark and collect the two of them before taking off. The security team would sweep the whole island while they were taken to safety, before the pilot would return to collect the security team.
Alex's took a look at Henry, nodding to him. "That's the same tail number Zahra gave us. Ready?" Alex asked, as both men reached back for their cases and made a run for the chopper.
Reaching the helicopter, they were surprised when two big, strong, burley men hoisted them and their belongings inside. "Password?" The first man demanded in a shout to be heard over the whirling chopper blades. Alex rattled off the ridiculous password Zahra had given him, and they grinned at the couple.
"Correct, welcome aboard." The second man shouted and smiled. The first man relaxed, as the chopped began its ascent into the air and Alex and Henry were ushered to the back of the chopper, the last row of seats.
They were handed a headset each and wordlessly ordered to put them on. With the headphones on, Henry and Alex finally felt like they could breathe better. "Thanks man." Alex spoke into the headset.
"Think nothing of it." The pilot in the front seat spoke in return. He had a soothing, yet rich timbre to his voice that made the young men feel safe. "You're Leo's stepson, that makes you family, Mr. Claremont-Diaz. I am glad to have you and His Royal Highness aboard. Call me, Dicky."
"Please, just call us Alex and Henry, really." Alex begged him. Sometimes he hated all of the formality that came along with their positions in life. "You doin' ok, Baby?" Alex asked again, checking in on Henry.
"Fine, Love." Henry answered in a thicker accent than his usual London dulcet tone, but Alex had heard the slight hitch in his voice. Henry was not ok. Alex could tell, not only would his breath hitch, but his accent also always thickened. Alex reached over and took Henry's hand, squeezing it to reassure him that everything would be ok.
"Thanks, Dicky." Alex said, redirecting his attention to one of the pilots. The one that seemed to be in charge. He was also dressed nicer than the other pilot, wearing a Burberry sweater and Calvin Klein jeans, Gucci loafers and he was impeccably groomed. "Where are we headed?"
"My island," Dicky replied, not taking his eyes off piloting the small helicopter. Alex looked over at Henry, he was relieved to see Henry slowly getting back to his usual self. "Three klicks due West."
"What in the hell is a Klick?" Alex muttered in reply, but only Henry had heard Alex's utterance.
"It's a kilometre, Darling." Henry smiled at him, his tone slightly teasing. That was when Alex realised, Henry was back with the program.
Arriving at the island, the two younger men were quickly ushered into an office. "Call whomever you need to call and tell them, you're safe." Dicky said.
This was the first time that the younger duo got a good look at their Saviour. Dicky gave off the appearance of a British entrepreneur and adventurer with a distinctive appearance. He had blond hair, blue eyes, a goatee beard, and a bright smile. He reassured both men, that he was the epitome of discreetness, before telling them, he had actually heard of both men. Especially Henry, since he admitted he was British.
Henry immediately warmed to Dicky, in an ex-pat sort of way. Soon enough the two of them were reminiscing about living, working and visiting London. The places they loved to visit and eat, their favourite haunts. Both men admitted to loving the small falafel stand, not too far from the gates of Kensington Palace. Not too long into their discussion it dawns on the older man where he knows the younger, blonde man from.
"You're one of the Trustees for the Pride Foundation in London, aren't you?" Henry asked, suddenly. "I thought I recognised you from the fundraising gala. I was in attendance with Percy Okonjo, of the Okonjo foundation."
"The Pride Foundation is one of many charities that i am a trustee of." Dicky smiled. "I have, however, currently been looking into signing up to the Okonjo Foundation Project, in the US."
This was where Henry nudged Alex into the conversation too. Both men were assisting Percy with setting up his US branch. Alex helping with the legal team and getting some hands-on experience and Henry helping with the design, planning, construction and securing donors to help fund the project.
Catherine was sleeping soundly, something that she had only begun to do again, in the aftermath of Henry being outed by the media. Her own cellphone was on the nightstand beside her, on charge, as usual. She had not been expecting to hear the jarring sounds emit from it in the middle of the night.
"Hullo," Her British upper-class voice came through the line all soft and tussled.
"Sorry to wake you, Catherine." Ellen Claremont's reply was immediate, and Catherine realised, not as friendly as it had been in the conversations prior. "It's Ellen. I don't suppose you have seen the newspapers yet?"
Catherine bolted upright now, more awake. Ellen's tone had been cold and not in the usual friendly manner they conversed in. "Not really, I was sleeping. It's half-three in the morning here."
"Henry and Alex have been found." Ellen announced, not awaiting the future Queen's reaction to the news. "It seems someone found them. Infiltrated their hide away. The boys were able to escape with the help of an acquaintance of my husband's. His security did a sweep and captured two assassins. They were taken into the custody of the CIA. They both admitted to being following orders from the Royal Family."
"My mother!" Catherine seethed and she was furious. She didn't truly think that her own mother would go as far as to try and kill her own grandson, but here they were.
"You, actually." Ellen said, coolly. "They presented the CIA with proof that it was you who wanted Henry and Alex dead! The media knows, everything. It's going to be in the morning's papers."
"Tell me, you don't actually believe this rubbish?" Catherine asked, sardonically. "I sent you my Beatrice for protection, why would I try to kill my own son?"
"The evidence is what it is." Ellen said calmly. She wasn't letting any part of her feelings break through her voice. "As the President, I have to take action. For all outwards appearances, you have threatened the life of my son. That is something I cannot ignore."
"And for the internal appearances?" Catherine asked in disbelief.
"I believe you. Not whomever else, not do I believe the evidence. What I am currently more concerned about is how the hell did the media get ahold of it in the first place." Ellen took a few calming breathes, audibly. Before confessing, "You're being set-up. The question is by who and why?"