AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This is a revamp of chapter five that I decided to write because I wasn't really happy with how it was. I felt it exposed too much and I wasn't really happy with how I was going about planning the original "conspiracy" that I had in mind with this fanfic. It didn't really make sense considering how the U.S President would realistically operate in this situation, and I didn't enjoy writing about how it would operate. I still want to keep some elements from it, but overall I kind of want this to be an international modern day Game of Thrones-esque superhero setting. And a shadowy cabal controlling half of the U.S government with the other half somehow not knowing about it didn't mesh well with that idea. With that said, this revamped version has less words and is shorter, and it serves more as a stepping stone that I'm going to use to set up future arcs. But I hope ya'll like it regardless.
The click-clack of President Victoria Neuman's high heels echoed around the corridor as she trudged through the White House, superhuman secret service agents trailing along at her wings and in front of her. Had Victoria been born with a more of a sadistic streak, she would've been feared and praised as one of the most powerful supes in the world. Arguably matching Homelander himself in sheer lethality.
But she didn't want to be a hero, nor a soldier. Instead, she followed her adopted father's footsteps and pursued a career in politics.
She was ruthless, determined, a living force of nature manifested within a woman in a three piece suit.
And right now, Victoria wanted nothing more than to lie down and take a deep, long sleep. Because she hadn't been able to get any rest at all for the past month, and was operating solely off of three gallons of coffee. Supe precogs had been warning of a possible terrorist attack for weeks, stating that there was going to be a devastating assault on one of America's biggest cities sometime in the coming future. Problem being that future sight was straining to use any longer than short bursts. Added with the fact that probabilities branched off with increasing frequency the more precogs with differing interests were active. That "Federal Seers" couldn't get a clear bead on when the attack was going to happen meant one thing; someone with serious pull was conspiring against the United States.
Her advisors had told her to take their predictions with a grain of salt, but still recommended that she kept her guard up. And she did. She'd increased federal supe presence near big cities, which meant calling upon supes from rural areas to temporarily move away from their homes to patrol in and around L.A, New York, Chicago, and other big population centres. She'd halved resources and supes to foreign aid efforts just to keep them on American soil. The military remained on high alert. And monitoring of the public increased tenfold.
The past few weeks had been torture for Victoria. Like waiting for a nuclear pin to drop.
And now, it finally happened.
She was scheduled for press releases, interviews with news outlets, a meeting with Congress on the matter of superhuman defence, national addresses to assure the American public that all was well and that they had NOTHING to worry about. She'd done more frantic speed walking in the last hour than she had for the last 36 years of her life.
But there were a few positives, she had to admit. She'd taken solace in the fact that, at the very least, this attack on New York probably wasn't going to result in another Global War on Terror. On account of the fact that the supe-terrorist was a mentally-ill, 28 year old white woman named Sandra Mulligan who had been born and raised in Houston Texas, along with being stuck in a psychiatric ward since she was 15 years old. Until she'd broken out and posted a photo of a white paper with her name on it, along with a statement detailing what she was going to do 3 hours before the attack.
Regardless of her race, hundreds of millions of people were calling for her death. As of now it was the only issue in America where both the left and the right mutually agreed on something. And that was good. Unity was good. What she did in the here and now could mean she'd get approval and clout from both sides that would hopefully help in the next election.
But the next election was four years away, and right now she had an aftermath to deal with.
Victoria stepped into the situation room, scanning the faces of her top advisors and military leaders as she took her seat at the head of the table. Tension rattled the air around them.
"Good afternoon," she began, her voice steady despite the fatigue that gnawed at her. "Let's get to it. Updates on the Times Square situation?"
The Director of National Intelligence, Robert Harmon, spoke up as he opened a file in front of him. "We're still piecing things together, but we do know Mulligan's mother, Lina Mulligan, appeared to have been exposed to V at some point in her life."
"How do you know it was from her mother?" Victoria asked.
"Lina used to work in a V production facility in Britain throughout the late 80s and the early 90s, right around the time the West managed to get their hands on the K-strain from the Soviets and began replicating it. There was an incident which happened in 1992 that led to a chemical explosion. It killed most of the staff, with Lina and 3 others being the only ones to survive. She later moved to Texas that same year, met Noah Mulligan, and they had Sandra in 1994. When Sandra was fifteen, Lina and her husband both died in a car accident, with Sandra being the only survivor. Since then Sandra had been in a psychiatric ward until she broke out just today, although nobody realised she had powers, or that she had the potential to have them."
Victoria hummed quietly as she tapped her fingers on the table. Hushed whispers erupted around the table as everybody processed the information.
"So Lina was a victim of one of the K incidents, and somehow we didn't take note of the fact that her daughter, and one of the most powerful geokinetics we have to date, was in a psych ward this entire time?" Victoria asked incredulously, "If Lina had been exposed to the K strain in that explosion, HOW did the British government not think of marking her as someone who could potentially become a supe?"
"We're not sure ma'am," Harmon continued as he passed her his file, "but medical reports from the many examinations they conducted on her suggest that they didn't detect a trace of V in her body. So we can only assume Lina herself either had some sort of ability that helped her hide her powers or the British made a huge miscalculation. And I'm more inclined to believe the former."
Victoria sighed angrily. "I want a full profile on Sandra. Psychological evaluations, known associates, anything that might give us a clearer picture of her motives and potential connections. Whatever you can find."
"Understood," Harmon replied.
She turned towards her Communications Director, Jenna Haynes. "How are we doing on the publicity side of things?"
"People have been crying bloody murder, but most are too busy grieving to begin pointing fingers at you. For now we've been pushing a narrative of resilience and unity, highlighting the heroism of those who responded to the attack and honouring those who've passed. But…"
Victoria raised her eyebrow as she stared at the director. "But..?"
"There's a growing demand for harsher measures against superhumans. People are scared, and now it's only emboldened certain groups like the Church of the Collective to… Call for mandatory de-powerment of supes…"
Victoria clicked her tongue in annoyance, but kept her expression firm. "Ignore them. Those crazies aren't a threat. Only thing I'm worried about now is whether or not there's going to be any follow up attacks…"
The day trudged on as she travelled to and from military bases, FBSA facilities, and communicated with America's top military advisors. Precogs and intelligence had informed her that there wasn't going to be another supervillain attack for the rest of the year. Or at the very least, not another at the scale of the one that'd happened today.
As the sun finally disappeared over the horizon, Victoria had finally gotten the chance to hunker down. She'd arrived in the President's bedroom immediately after taking a shower and collapsing onto her mattress and crawling into the arms of her husband, Sameer Shah.
Sameer scratched her head as he pulled her in closer. "You looked amazing on TV," he whispered.
Victoria scoffed. "The public named me 'finest president since JFK,' of course I looked amazing."
The two laughed, a comfortable silence taking over as they stayed in eachothers arms. But as the moment passed, Sameer could tell Victoria was getting more anxious
"There's always something that comes up. If it isn't another terrorist group somehow getting their hands on V, it's a civvy supe accidentally killing 10 people after snorting a bucket full of cocaine."
"You'll get past this," Sameer encouraged. "The people will talk about how you led this country during one of its darkest times in modern history."
Victoria silently soaked in his praise before speaking, appreciating the thought even if it did little to shake her fears. "We found out that the supervillain's mother had been exposed to the K-strain a few decades ago due to being caught in one of the K incidents. But that's all. The villain posted her identity on Instagram before the attack, just a photo of a piece of paper with her name on it and what she was planning on doing. But the account she posted it on wasn't connected to any other sites or apps. And that photo was the only thing she ever posted on that account."
"Well surely she has another… Hidden account or whatever, right?" he inquired. "Maybe that one was her throwaway."
"We checked, but she'd posted from a phone that was subsequently destroyed afterwards. And I doubt psych wards let patients who were as unwell as she was have access to the internet all that often."
"Do you guys at least have a motive?"
"She's being interrogated right now, our psychics and telepaths are working round the clock to siphon every little bit they can get out of her."
"Then I think your only concern on the publicity side of things is the Republicans spinning this against you. Conspiracy theories up the wazoo about how it was planned. Or about how you didn't do enough to prevent it in time."
Victoria looked away nervously, "It's that last part I'm worried about," she admitted. "Somehow our precogs didn't have a bead on her. They knew something was coming and that she was going to attack a big city, it's the only reason so many supes were able to respond in time. But the fact that-"
"The fact that our large assortment of precogs couldn't detect which city she was going to attack means there's at least an as large or larger group of precogs trying to stop them from doing so," Sameer finished for her.
Victoria huffed in disappointment, "Exactly, and we've been racking our heads trying to figure out the culprits these past few months, before the attack. Whether it be China, Russia, a particularly powerful precog or some mysterious cabal, we just don't know."
"Well… Regardless of whoever might be behind this…" Sameer paused, "I think we can take solace in the fact that this 'Sandra' person wasn't one of ours."
Victoria shuddered at the thought, "God, if it turned out she was one of our stateborns the people would have our heads."
Sameer only laughed, "Fastest government collapse and the shortest presidential term in U.S history, I can see the headlines right now."
The mirth only lasted for a second, Victoria's smile fading as soon as fast as it came. She sighed as Sameer began running his hand over her back gently. An air of uncertainty taking a hold over the two of them.
"This is big, Sameer," she whispered. "I've only just been sworn in as president and now I'm facing down the biggest terrorist attack since 9/11."
"You can pull through this Vicky," Sameer's arms tightened around her. "You always have."
Victoria closed her eyes and sunk deeper into her husband's chest, letting her worries drift away into the night.
"Let's hope so..." she mumbled.