The Oval Office ✓ (Book One)

Chapter Seventy

Seven Years Later

  "I'm clocking out for the day." I call out to whoever's still left in the office. The clock on the wall reads seven pm- making it a relatively early day for me.

  Four years ago, I finally did it. After my psychologist cleared me and the other director resigned citing family reason, I was speedily confirmed by the senate. There was some pushback from a few members who still- understandably doubted my mental state, but the final confirmation vote was 72-28.

  As I head out the door, i step back for a moment to look at the Washington headquarters. There have been so many thing that have happened in the past ten years- good and bad, that I've looked back on and thought "this doesn't feel real" and this really doesn't. I am the head of one of the most major investigative agencies. Me.

"Director Wells-" an agent gets my attention. "You okay?"

  I realize now that I was standing completely still for over thirty seconds just staring at the emblem painted on the plaza in front of headquarters. Oops.

  "Yeah I'm ... I'm fine." I reply. Director Wells. That one never gets old. I throw my bag in the back of my car,tapping on the Spotify app on my car's touchscreen.

  This is the same route I take home every time I'm in D.C. Anytime I have to travel for work, I use the fbi's private jet and the drivers that are designated for high up government officials.Wherever I am, I workout daily- no exceptions. It's helped out immensely on the rare occasion I'm in the middle of field investigations, though I'm normally commanding from headquarters.

Fbi directors have a ten year appointed term, but most don't get farther than a few years before they resign or are assassinated. I don't plan on doing either- as I fully intend on serving out a full term. Anytime I've been close to being attacked- as encouraged by fbi and general government policy, it's shoot now, ask questions later.

There are a few times that probably weren't justified, like last month. I was on my daily run and felt somebody watching me, so I bent down to "tie my shoe" and grabbed the gun out of my running boots. I immediately turned around to face the person and it was just my deputy director who was out walking too. He was startled for a second, but understood- as he'd been in that situation before. Still, I couldn't help but feel like shit. If it'd been Kyle or Mina or Taylor or Kendra and I'd actually followed the "shoot now" policy, I'd never forgive myself.

A certain degree of paranoia comes with being the head of any government agency, since there's always somebody that wants to kill you regardless of how peaceful this country has gotten. With President Underwood's police and politicians accountability act, nobody is immune from following the law. A sitting President can now be prosecuted if he or she breaks it. Police officers and anybody else - though racism isn't really a thing anymore, can be imprisoned for up to thirty years for unjust killing.

My situation is slightly different. Because I'm my own security team and the director, I have full immunity from prosecution for putting a bullet between somebody's eyes- though I never have and never will do it if I don't at least think my safety is in danger.

The secret service assigned to our front gate automatically open it when they see my car approaching, and I park under the garage, as it's pouring down rain. I open my umbrella and rush through to the front door, as the wind's rendered it almost useless- and I'm fully soaked in the ten second walk it takes to get there. I press my wrist up against the chip reader installed on our door, and it flashes green.

A few years ago, when it came out and the technology was confirmed as solid, He and I got tiny chips implanted in our wrists and index fingers. There was minor swelling for a few days, but after it died down, they were good to go and won't have to be replaced for at least a decade. They're about the size of a pen tip, and from an app- you can add your bank information, medical history and notes. If it's known that you have the chip and are having a medical emergency, an EMT can just quickly press your finger to a reader and pull up your medical history from now all the way back to your birth.