Tragic Death in the White House

DAY ZERO SINCE THE MURDER OF THE PRESIDENT Chapter 1 White House, Washington D.C. The Director of the United States Secret Service didn’t want to make a big fuss out of it until he made sure everything was as the agent told him right outside the President’s room. He shot across the hallway, but then paced himself and started walking fast. “It’s impossible. That cannot be true”, he was thinking to himself while his subconscious was trying to figure out how his life would look like if it was indeed proved it was “possible”. If he had gotten this information somewhere else, he would have been sprinting right now and would already have all of the forces on field. He wouldn’t even have stopped for a minute. But here? Here, he was not allowed to do anything that might interrupt the daily tasks and life of the personnel. Who would even think that something like that could happen right there, in the middle of the White House? What would he and his personnel have to do after such an event? Maybe he should issue some commands. But… all of that was highly unlikely. He wanted to see for himself, with his own eyes. To check the situation and assume control over it. That was the same reason why he personally responded to the ominous phone call that came through the command line. Even though his subconscious was thinking about his future, he decided to be sensible and concluded that even if the given information was true, there are people who could worry about state security. But now, less damage would be done if he lost a minute or two in this investigation, rather than announcing so dreadful news. The agent outside was visibly upset and as white as chalk. Disbelief, fear, confusion and tons of questions could be seen in his eyes. The hallway was deserted – the only advantage in a situation like that. No inquiring eyes and unnecessary witnesses. Both of them felt their knees weaken. They were doubtful they could remain standing for long now. The sight was shocking, nasty, and unbelievable. Something unreal. But at the same time, as desperate as it can be. Was the blood unreal as well? Were they seeing something that wasn’t there? The agent started talking, but he couldn’t listen. There was a buzzing in his ears. The President’s body slumped to the left. There was a stick supporting his body; the stick fell and his body fell into a weird position… it was unacceptable and undignified. He decided to move the dead body of the President and prop him up in a more respectful manner, even though he would be contaminating the crime scene. The agent mutely realized what he wanted to do, so he helped; he got hold of his legs and both of them laid the President down. After they put the body on the sofa, Robert Down decided to call the Deputy Assistant Director of the Office of Protective Operations. Before calling, he remembered to ask the nervous agent what he was saying. “How did this happen?” he said. “Who did this?” “President’s mistress” was his answer. “She has got to be around here somewhere. Issue an order for her arrest…” The agent was shaking due to tremendous stress. When they laid hands on the dead body, it helped them grasp the situation, release part of the stress, face reality and gave the Director enough time to come up with a plan suitable for an unforeseen event like this. He knew this was not a regular situation and that he would need all of his prudence, wit and determination. After all, he was the Director of the Secret Service. He took the position due to his set of skills. And he knew that that b***h was not going to get away with this. He called the Deputy Assistant Director. He tried speaking soberly, with the voice of a man who’s in charge of a situation, even though his mind was racing. He announced that they should all be on the lookout for a blonde woman. That they “should all watch if they catch a sight of Elizabeth Tribe! Of course everyone knows Elizabeth Tribe, she’s the President’s mistress! People know her better than the President’s wife, for God’s sake! If someone sees her, she should be arrested and taken into the offices of the Secret Service. Everyone watch the exits! No one is allowed to leave the White House!” “What’s going on?!” inquired Andrew Smart. Heavy silence fell on the room for a minute. Both of them knew the weight of that silence, but the subordinate didn’t insist to hear the truth, because he trusted his boss. “Something terr… very unpleasant. I’ll tell you later” said Robert Down and thus interrupted the silence that seemed like it lasted for ages. “See to the matter as soon as possible. And give me a call straight away.” He knew that they would locate very easily the current position of Elizabeth Tribe with the help of the CCTV cameras. They would soon catch her. From one side, that gave him some comfort – that one part in the chain of actions that he needed to take would be successfully done. It was a part that was only his, a part connected to the safety of the President. But from the other side, as a person who in a small part represented the country, he had a picture of the series of events and consequences that would follow after this event. He knew what he was supposed to be doing in an event like this, when the President is “unexpectedly” dead. He didn’t even want to think about “assassinated”. There was a standard protocol in place. But this was an unusual assassination. This was more than that. This was an attack on the nation, on its dignity and pride. An unusual situation demands an unusual solution and procedure. That was what he was thinking. He forgot that it’s possible that he might be held responsible for neglecting the rules. But he was not thinking clearly. He knew that state authorities, before taking any security, diplomatic, or political activities, need to form an opinion about the “event”. They needed to show the murder of the President in a manner that would enable the country to stay dignified. The President must serve his country, even when he is no longer alive… He wanted to personally call Vice President George Green. He was then thinking he should probably call the others, those that he thought would be appropriate to know about the assassination. But then, he changed his mind… “Mister Vice President”, he called the Vice President, who responded immediately. ”Robert Down talking, Sir. Could you please come to the Silver room, there has been an emergency. The President is dead. And please, come personally, do not send anyone else. I am afraid something terrible has happened.” He could sense the confusion on the other side. “Excuse me?” George Green tried to find out more, but Robert Down had already hung up. He knew there would be questions, but explaining over the phone was ridiculous and futile to him. And he had zero time to waste. Then, he called his assistant. The assistant responded immediately. “Anything new?” asked Robert Down, moving back and forth in front of the sofa where the dead President was lying. “We can’t locate her anywhere at the moment. Now we’re going through the CCTV recordings. What is this about? Why are you so anxious?” he wanted to say ‘frustrated and mysterious’. “Listen…” he wanted to issue an order and raise awareness, so everyone could act according to protocol, but then changed his mind. He knew that would be a step in the wrong direction at this moment. Postponing ten minutes or so, or even hours, would not change the usual procedure set in order for emergencies, nor would it help them catch Elizabeth Tribe faster. But if he did that now, he would change history. After all, they do know who was to blame. “The President is dead. The last person seen with him is his mistress. Thus she’s a suspect…” he didn’t want to say “a suspect” but that word was part of his daily life. “That’s why we need to find her.” He could only imagine what his shaken assistant looked like at the moment. “I’m sorry… what?” “Yes, he is dead. Listen, coordinate the activities of our men and call me when you find her. And don’t tell the news to anyone yet. Not even to our men. I am waiting for the Vice President to arrive at any moment right now. We’ll decide about the next step after I hear his thoughts. I’ll give you a call.” “The situation is very… delicate”, he added. “If you don’t find her here, go look her up at her residence.” “Go stand in front of the door and don’t let anyone in”, he said to the agent that was standing above the dead President’s body. “No one comes in”, he pointed out. How much time passed since destiny had given him this ungrateful role? He wasn’t even aware that what currently seemed like eternity to him while waiting for the Vice President to arrive, could be counted in minutes. How much time did he need to get here? He didn’t even ask where he was. Really, what could he do in that short time? And how much was that short time? Why didn’t he ask him where he was? He hesitated whether he should call the one in charge of the Vice President’s security, but decided not to. He got scared the news might spread furthermore. He was deciding whether he should call other officials that he thought should know the truth, but again, concluded that he shouldn’t do anything without the approval of the Vice President. And yet, he couldn’t wait just like that. He had to do something! But what could he possibly do when he had already limited himself? He had to stay calm. “Stay calm”, that’s what they were told during their training. But who can possibly stay calm under circumstances like these? He was calm considering how bad it could get – he resisted the urge to declare emergency right away, he didn’t alarmed the whole service, nor the establishment, because that meant the public will be informed as well. He was in charge of the situation. The doors flung open and the Vice President flew in. He came with his Chief of Security, but entered the room alone. His face was red due to the hustle and anticipation. He looked at the Director of the Secret Service, who lowered his eyes and went to meet him. A few steps after entering, he saw the dead body of the President Alfred Bagshaw. He got stunned so much, he couldn’t move for a while. The bloodied face of the President made him desperate. He did not expect to see this. This was way more than what he was hoping to see. He didn’t expect to see such a traumatizing scene, but rather a dignifying death of the President, maybe even a natural death. “Dear Lord, what happened?” he barely managed to ask. “He has been murdered, Mr. Vice President. There has been an assassination”. “Who did this?” “His mistress”. George Green realized there and then that this was a very delicate situation, much more delicate than the critical situations the USA have ever had since proclaiming their independence. This was not a usual murder, nor an ordinary assassination. It was not about that the victim was the President of the most powerful nation of the Earth, nor was it that his friend was lying in front of him, but it was about the place of the assassination. The assassination took place in the White House, the bastion of freedom and democracy. That made the event much ghastlier and even more significant than the atomic threats to the USA. This was an attack to the confidence and dignity of the American people. No matter the motives, the consequences of this would be catastrophically bad for the spirit of the nation. “Are there any reasons why she did that? Have you caught her?” “I ordered them to apprehend her. So far, I have zero information if they have. But I didn’t order anyone to declare a state of emergency. I wanted to wait for you.” “Does this have any background story or…” “I have no idea.” “Whatever the reason, he is dead, may God rest his soul. Our job now is to take appropriate measures to ensure the safety of the country and not allow panic to spread throughout the nation. We also have to prevent whoever planned this to take advantage of the situation. We have to keep the dignity of the nation and… his dignity as well.” “What do we do now?” Robert Down asked impatiently. “Alert everyone, and the Council will decide whether to declare a state of emergency.” “And what do we say about the manner of… death?” he asked and looked towards the dead body. “The President is dead now no matter what, so the manner of death doesn’t change the type and intensity of the alarm. Meanwhile, we’ll meet in the Situation Room and decide together on the necessary and reasonable decisions.” The Vice President knew what the Director of the Secret Service was talking about. He was thinking exactly about the same thing ever since he had seen the situation. He was fully aware about the answer they had to provide for the given situation. He had already come up with a final answer. He didn’t have all the details, but the Council would give more suggestions and they would finalize everything. He was the one who had to think of a solution for the unheard event, the terrible humiliation of the proud nation. He was aware he couldn’t do everything alone, even if he abused the authority he would later on receive as a President. So he needed support and advice – maybe someone could come up with another solution, totally different than the one he had. But he would make things his own way, feeling that’s the only right thing to do. His thoughts wandered and he started thinking how all of this looked as if he were a part of a Hollywood blockbuster. ’Still, this is real life.’ He focused on the moment. Before exiting the room, he ordered Robert Down to appoint guards in front of the door and to prevent anyone from entering the room. That went also for the agents in charge of the security of the room. “What happens if Miss Bagshaw appears?” “The same goes for her. But just in case, make sure she is as farther away as possible. If she is outside, have them take her someplace else… wherever, just very far away, until we decide how to deal with the situation.”