Madam President ✓

36. Don't Pretend To Be The Good Guy

Alex
January 21st, 2021
2:47 am

"So the house speaker knew about what was going to happen-" I sigh. "That means she wasn't innocent either but.... If she did nothing to try and stop it... she knew there was nothing she could have done."

  "Because she knew she'd just find a way to kill them quicker." Jeremy mumbles.

  She truly had us all fooled.

"So Leslie Simmons sold her the Secretary of state's location and the congressman did the same with with the bomb design-" I stop halfway through Jeremy's office, partially from exhaustion and realization. "She couldn't have placed the bombs herself. That's on the first page of terrorism for dummies."

"Which means there was another traitor in the capital building and we don't know if they're dead or not because we have no way of accessing the capital security cam footage because said cameras do not exist anymore." Jeremy replies, half paying attention.

"Can't you access the backup footage?"

"Not with both of the backup capital networks down. There are some things even I cannot hack."

"How? That footage could be vital-"

"Alex-" he turns around. "Right now I'm trying to pinpoint everywhere she has been the past year which isn't exactly easy when you travel with a car that doesn't have a GPS. So please- give me a minute."

"Right.... Sorry..."

Time to go harass a white supremacist.

I make my way to the interrogation rooms in the basement. When I get there, he's mumbling nonsense words to himself.

"What the hell are you doing?" I stand in front of the table with my arms crossed, tilting my head.

He ignores me for a full minute.

"Like it or not I am your ticket to getting life in a federal prison- which I don't think I have to remind you is the better option. So I'd really suggest not pissing me off with the day I've had."

"I was praying you asshole."

"You know, I've never understood the concept of religion. I mean theoretically speaking, god forgives all if you just repent so what's to stop a serial rapist and pedophile from going to heaven?"

"It's not like that-"

"Funny because you seem to think you'll be going there." I laugh.

"Oh I know I won't." He shakes his head. "And I.... Know I'll be down there but... all I'm asking is that he protect my daughter from you people."

"You people? Jesus congressman- cooperate and you'll have nothing to worry about. I don't take pleasure in using mental torture as an interrogation method. Now-" I lean forward. "Who planted the bombs?"

"I don't know." He answers immediately.

"Oh bullshit-"

"I'm not lying. Not about this."

"I find it real interesting-" I sit back. "That your wife was one of the very, very few survivors and you weren't there at all. Why weren't you in the hospital with her instead of at your D.C residence? Was that one of the conditions for you to sell her the design?"

"Yes but...." He sighs. "Republican house leadership invited her and I to the inauguration. The minority leader said he was sad to see me lose election and wanted to say goodbye. By that point.... I already knew what was going to happen so I tried to talk her out of it and she refused."

"And you didn't beat the shit out of her?" I chuckle. "Congressman I'm impressed."

"I.... I've been going to anger management. It helps but...."

"Still no excuse to beat your wife up. You were saying?"

"I called her and made her swear that the bombs would be placed in a way that wouldn't harm my wife permanently, given she was in her seating when it happened. So.... I aggressively asked her not to move the entire inauguration so the supporters I have left wouldn't think she was bored....."

"And so it wouldn't 'bounce back to you'. Clever-" I cough. "But not clever enough. Who placed the bombs?"

"I already told you I don't fucking know!!" He grits his teeth. "She wouldn't tell us. Said it was safer for all of us and more likely to work. Sounded like she knew what the hell she was talking about. Christ, when a seventeen year old girl approached and asked this of me I thought I was actually hallucinating. I mean.... This was something I would have planned if I had the guts or even the smarts."

"How much did you sell her the design for?" I ask.

"Uhm...."

"HOW MUCH FUCKING MONEY?!!" I surprise even myself with my outburst.

He breathes.

"Seven hundred thousand dollars."

I stare in disbelief. In what world was it even remotely worth it?

"So let me get this straight- you, a multi billionaire, sold the most secretive and sought after bomb design among huge terrorist organizations who have offered billions to the brotherhood of terror and the United States government for it in the past for less than a million dollars?"

"Yes...."

"So you agree with what she did? Jesus Fred, that's not gonna help your case in court."

"Yes... I mean no.... Sort of."

"Let me guess- it's complicated?" I raise an eyebrow. "The only reason you've decided to cooperate is because it killed your closest friends and we've threatened your daughter but otherwise, you believe everyone else who attended deserved it?"

He goes silent.

"Did I get that right?"

"Uhm..."

"Have fun in federal prison dickface."

As a last thought, I turn back.

"And thank you for your cooperation. " I say with a fake smile. I take the stairs up to Jeremy's office floor, not feeling like being in a crowded elevator at the moment. When I open his door, he's repeatedly blinking at his main monitor.

"She frequented this warehouse often." He point to a dot on the screen. "Like... really often."

"Jeremy?"

"No. I still have.... So so much to look for."

"Then we'll take one of the mobile offices. Like you said- I'm a fucking idiot if I go in there alone."