The Oval Office ✓ (Book One)

Chapter Thirteen

                                 Aileen's P.O.V

  You can do this. You'll be fine. Everything's fine. If I fuck this up it's over. Over for the First Lady, over for me. They obviously know we are investigating, but the room I interrogated the prince in has been guarded twenty four seven for thirty years and is sweeped  for bugs regularly- they won't know the real reason we're here.

  I'm on the helicopter now. It'll be a five  hour flight, even at the dangerously high speed we're going. Five hours back too. So much could happen in that amount of time- if we could make this damn thing go faster we would.  In any ordinary rescue mission, we would contact troops in the country or neighboring ones, and they would do it- but Ordaia's Borders and airspace have their own troops patrolling them twenty four seven. If there's anything I learned while I was there, however, it's that all orders from the crowned prince are absolute and final.

His second in command only acts on his behalf in his absence. Upon his death, his son would take over. The daughter would be a last resort, if there are no other male family members- and as far as I'm aware, there aren't. A couple of years ago there was a widespread Ebola pandemic that, thank god- claimed the life of the prince's brother. That fucker was even worse than him.

  In preparation for the mission , the president brought out one of the  First Lady's fully bulletproof pantsuits for me. I usually dress casual, but today, I need to look like secret service. Two agents from the president's security team accompany me along with  several FBI agents and four from my own team. I haven't been there in well over ten years- but it can't be that different . The royal family has kept the same layout for hundreds of years; they don't even replace furniture or paint the walls unless they're falling apart. It's not out of cheapness, they just like the original design of the castle.

  There are so many ways this could go wrong- Capture. War. Although we could blow them off of the map in seconds, the president is against all civilian casualties unless absolutely unavoidable, and we have yet to use a single bomb under his administration.

Nobody really feels like talking, so the ride is silent. Hours later, I can feel the helicopter getting ready to land.

"Alright- you two, you're gonna stay with me." I command the secret service. "No matter what. You-" I point to one of my investigators. "Since we're Americans they're definitely going to be watching us at all times, but see if you can get away from them somehow and find something out. Anything. I know Ahmad said he would talk once he sees his children in person but even if everything goes to plan we are looking at five hours until we get back- five hours we can't afford. We need to be able to pass information to the president as soon as possible."

"Yes ma'm." The agent replies.

"I'm two years older than you, please don't call me that."

"I'm sorry- I thought you were older, I mean not that you look older I just assumed with the position you have-"

"It's okay. I got out of..." I look out the window, and see the designated landing spot a couple hundred yards away. "this place when I was fifteen. I got my g.e.d, went to college and the FBI academy- u.s government officials asked me about a million questions  and made me take a lie detector test dozens of times to make sure I wasn't a spy, and after reviewing my first few investigations I was invited to work for the White House at twenty six. The president thought I would be a valuable asset when it came to human rights investigations because I'd experienced it myself."

"I'm sorry." He says, a concerned look on his face.

"I'm not. Now, let's get in and get the hell out as soon as possible." Upon landing, we're greeted by about ten people.