Madam President ✓

16. Trust Nobody

Alex

Having allotted myself five entire minutes to process things, I collapse once again- this time into a foldable chair in the tent. After finding my fiancé's bloody remains, I slowed down for thirty seconds at the most. Her family will legally be in charge of the burial, and they will make sure I'm not involved in the planning and don't receive an invitation. They've never liked me- not because our relationship was gay, but because of how it started. She'd just broken up with her long term girlfriend- literally hours before graduation, and I was still dating my first and last boyfriend.

  Looking back, our breakup was kinda funny. He walked in on her and I..... Ya know, when he came up to D.C to visit, and he just shook his head and walk out.

  I never saw or heard from him directly again, but apparently he went to pick up snacks at the grocery store and ran into Amber's parents( who he recognized from stalking her on Facebook) and told them what he saw. Amber didn't deny it.

  They think I'm immoral, that I corrupted their daughter. They said she'd never slept with someone's girlfriend before she met me. I believe them, and there's not really a point in apologizing now. I have no idea where he lives or what any of his contact info is.

  She is dead.

  I glance at the pile of bomb suit at my feet. I'm still sweating from the short time I was confined to it, the beads rolling off my face and dripping into my lap. They remind me of  the stream of tears that fell immediately after the explosion. I am not a cryer. Never have been- but the circumstances certainly allowed for flexibility. Now, one threatens to escape again.

  I use anger to keep it in. Anger at who did this, anger at the entirety of the FBI for not working quicker, anger at myself for letting her go in there.

  Anger at the entire fucking world.

  It wasn't supposed to go like this.

   From a few yards away, there's a loud sigh. I look up to see Jane, who is 40 but looks 80. The worry that's taken over her face has done so in a matter of hours, consuming her and every inch of her expressions.

  She approaches me now, the worry directed in my direction.

  "You okay?" She asks.

  "Gee, why do you ask?"

  "You just watched your girlfriend get blown to bits-"

"Thanks for the reminder." I Stand up suddenly and yank the hair tie off my wrist. I throw my hair into a messy ponytail- which I should have done earlier.

  "Alex. Do you need to take a leave?"

  "Why are you even asking?" I roll my eyes. "Under normal circumstances- if this hadn't happened in a year when we were stretched thin on agents, you wouldn't even give me the choice. You would order me to take a mental leave. But because we just lost another agent you can't afford to make me. So it's not really a choice, is it?"

  "Of course it is, Godamnit Alex!" She has to stop herself from raising her voice. "If you are not all there mentally you hurt this investigation more than you help it. So I'm asking you this again: Can you continue to be helpful without thinking about her?"

  "No, Madam Director." I glare at her. "She was the only person I ever loved and now she's gone. I will never be able to stop thinking about her. So what I'm going to do- if you'll get out of my fucking way, is direct my anger towards the case so it doesn't go to waste. Move."

  "What did the house speaker say to you?" She purses her lips, ignoring my command. I want to punch her but I know that would get me suspended immediately. "One of the first responders told me you had a short talk before she passed but that he couldn't hear from where he was."

  "Nothing that concerns you." I cross my arms.

  "Alex, come on. For all intensive purposes I am the director of the FBI. If you know something you need to tell me now."

  "I would if I could." I lie. "Do we have anything on the bomb's origins yet?"

  The house speakers words stick out in my mind.

  "Don't trust anybody."

  I decided to listen to her the second she said that. After all- who would know the people in Washington better than the speaker of the House of Representatives? Maybe the former presidents, or the senate majority leader..... but they are all dead now.

  "No." Jane sighs. "Nothing yet. It'll be nearly impossible because the bomb powderized itself upon explosion and... it'll be hard to differentiate between that powder and the rest of the debri but we're working on it. Where are you going?"

  She calls as I'm halfway out the tent already.

  I turn back just long enough to acknowledge her existence.

  "To the one person in the entire world who would have nothing to gain from doing this."

Having been around since before he was, she understand immediately.

  As I pass the responders; the firefighters, EMT's, police officers and secret service, I can't help but feel like they're staring at me. There are a few scattered in of course, but female FBI agents are not a common sight- especially in this past year's graduating class.

  I laugh. The entire country's gone to fucking shit and sexism is still running rampant. Jane will- if Tanya  Clark chooses her as the nominee, be the first female FBI director.

I click a button on my keys and throughly open my car door. For a minute, I sit in it, observing the scene before me. All visible flames have been put out. The firefighters are currently sitting back, resting. In just minutes they'll jump back in to help search for survivors.

  From the area of the third explosion, two body bags are carried away.

  I drive off.