The Oval Office ✓ (Book One)

Chapter Twelve

  "Mr.President I-" Aileen sees the prime minister hyperventilating with the White House doctor , and gestures for me to come out to the hallway.

  "What?" She looks around, her eyes methodically zooming in on every single dot on the walls before speaking.

  "He'll talk if we get his kids out. He just needs to make the phone call first to authorize it."

"Then get him a phone and send a team over there, now." I say.

  "I want to help with the rescue mission, too." Aileen sighs.

  "I would be a pretty shitty friend and president if I let you go back to that place after what happened to you there."

  "To be fair, it wasn't technically the prince's fault- it was his fathers. But, Mr. President- there's something else's you should know, since it's going to come out sooner or later." She pauses, contemplating something for a moment.

  "Aileen- what?"

  "The..prince and i..." She can't get the words out, but I can hear it in her voice.

  "Oh god no- tell me you didn't."

  "We did." She nods. "We were young. It was when I was still a servant- I was fifteen, he was sixteen and a prince and I..I had a daughter. When his father.. found out I was pregnant I was tortured again and... I was forced to marry Ahmad. Kyle, he wasn't always bad, growing up in that place made him the way he is. Then I finally had a chance at escaping and I figured with her... being royal blood she'd at least have a chance, but according to him she died a couple of weeks after I got out."

"If your...ptsd flares up while you're there-"

"I know. I won't be able to work on the investigation anymore- but sir,I lived in that castle for five years. I know where everything is."

  "Fine-" I say. "You can head the rescue mission too. Just- Do not fuck it up."

—-Lauren's P.O.V—-

  Severe burns cover my entire body now. The smell of burnt flesh lingers in my cell. This was my punishment for almost escaping. Burns were the one thing I could never get over when they prepped us for the possibility of kidnapping and torture at the FBI academy. Even then, it was only minor burns because they couldn't actually torture us.  They did, however, successfully train us to ignore pain.

  That's what I'm trying to do now. I sing random songs, think of random memories from years ago that haven't crossed my mind in years. Basically, I'm trying to be anywhere but here.  "Will you stop whimpering?" I've learned that the other woman's name is emily. "It smells like shit in here."

"Oh gee-" I roll my eyes. "I'm sorry for getting tortured. How inconvenient it must be for your poor nostrils."

"I mean- whining like a starving dog isn't gonna make the pain go away. I've been through it before, just ignore it until it's over."Emily shrugs.

"What the fuck-"

"James is your head of security, right?" I nod. "Every time he's refused to do something that... whoever runs this 'group' told him to, they torture me. Madam First Lady...what- what do you know?"

I glance over at the guards and lower my voice. "The British royal family is involved. I don't know how, but they are. I was in the castle before they brought me here."

"Well shit."

"Shit is right. We have no idea how deep this thing runs." I hear one of the guards say something into their walkie talkie, and seconds later, there he is. "How the fuck are you walking? I literally shot you!"

  "You did what?!" Emily shakes her head.

  "Oh, shut up. You're lucky it wasn't between the eyes." I gesture to both of them.

  "You didn't have to shoot him." Emily looks away. "There's always another way."

  "Tell that to your boyfriend. How many people do you think he's killed?" I snort. "If I had shot him where I was thinking of shooting him you would both be fucking dead by now."

  "To answer the question-" James interrupts. "The bullet went into the one fleshy part of my foot. Didn't hit anything important."

  "You shut up." Emily seems to hate him just as much as I do. "If I'd never run into you in the mall I wouldn't be here right now."

  "Emily- I love  you. You know that-"

  "The get me the fuck out of this place!"

  "That's exactly what I'm trying to do. I'm trying."

—-Aileen's P.O.V—

  "Here's your damn phone. What's the number?"

  "I cannot tell you that. I'll have to put it in myself." Prince Ahmad replies.

  "That's not happening. If you want your children out you'll tell me the number."

  "And if you want your First Lady back you'll hand the phone to me. It may or may not have been days since she's eaten. She could be dehydrated." He sarcastically replies. Don't punch him, don't punch him, don't punch him.

"Listen, you fucking- "

  "While your sitting here trying to argue me down the first lady's life is in jeopardy. So, you can either give me the phone or kiss your precious information goodbye." Shit- the president's going to kill me for negotiating with a terrorist, but it needs to be done.

  "It stays on speaker the entire time." I narrow my eyes at him and slide it across the table, just within range. He types in a number that I make a mental note of: 2099-1749-919. Local to Ordaia- all numbers ending in 919 are part of their highly secured government network.

  "Hello?" An operator answers.

  "Get me Commander Cyrus, now." He calmly replies.

"Prince! Are you alright? Have you been captured?"

"I'm fine, I'm just-" I raise an eyebrow at him, reminding him that his children are on the line here. "I'm... here working on the negotiations still. I'd like to bring my children here to meet the president. Hold back military forces, I'm sending American secret service to get them."

"Are you certain you wouldn't rather us bring them there?"

"Yes, commander."

"Very well. I'll let the general know. By the way- what happened to your body guards? I can't get a hold of them."

"They're off duty. America is... safer than I thought it would be. Goodbye, Commander." Well that's bullshit- his body guards are being held until further notice. It's Not that we think they have anything to do with the first lady's disappearance- the hold is temporary until our investigation is over. They, at least- have cooperated more than the prince. They allowed us, though not without arguing first, to remove their trackers.

These next twelve hours are going to be some of the most crucial yet.