Our Bruised Bodies | Bradley Bradshaw

ACT THREE - PART THIRTEEN

Hello, welcome back and cheers!

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Meeting the President gave her an odd sensation of finalisation. This one and then no one. Just one more conversation and they would finally let her go to be herself again, on her way to the next carrier, but other than expected, the President did know who she was, and he did know what she did. Seemed like at least one person in this country had a good PR team, telling him about the right things at the right time.

What Grace hadn't expected at all was for the President, to ask her to linger after the official part was over, she had gotten her medal and a picture was made of her shaking the President's hand, then she was asked to stay for dinner, just as Cyclone, only for the President, who they of course couldn't refuse, to tell them that he wasn't a fan of pulling serving members of their nation into the spotlight like that and that he was truly sorry if they felt uncomfortable. Grace wanted to snort, tell him that 'if' was the wrong word, but a look from Cyclone stopped her right in time.

The more time they spend with the President, the more Grace actually believed him to tell the truth. That he shared their dislike for such public appearances and that he understood that they wanted to return to the Baltimore as quickly as possible.

One topic of conversation morphed into the next just as hours passed easily, not that Grace would complain, after the President offering her some vodka, after being told that she preferred that drink. She had no idea who had told him that, but for once she didn't mind being spoken about when it resulted in her having a good drink. Maybe she should think about the amount of alcohol she had been having as of lately. But she guessed it wasn't worrisome just yet. The moment she would be back on the Baltimore it would be all over anyways.

The President asked about Cyclone's kid and about her father, he complimented both their determination, their sheer will power to serve their country and acknowledged Grace's quick rise in the ranks, telling her that he was looking forward to working with her more closely in a few short years. It was pleasant, she understood why people were mesmerised by the man, but she didn't take it all too seriously. Knowing that after all, he was still a politician.

What she did take seriously was the bottle of very good and very expensive vodka the President presented her with and the three days of leave. To get to know the city she would work in the future he had said with a wink and a smile, while promising Cyclone the same three days of leave to be able to see his son. To say that Cyclone jumped at the offer would be appropriate, just not that he was delighted about the prospect of seeing his son, for the first time since his wife died. He didn't tell Grace that, but it wasn't hard to guess that Cyclone's son wasn't talking to Cyclone.

Not too much later, she was back in her hotel room and Cyclone was on his way to see his son, causing her to unscrew the bottle of vodka, before taking a sip, with no care for a glass. Not when she was finally free from all that PR stuff. Not when they would finally allow her to return after three days of hero holiday.

It took her twenty minutes, then she was bored out of her mind with suddenly nothing to do, but she also couldn't enjoy the newfound quiet, not when suddenly she had to think of Cyclone and his kid. Wondering if the people she had killed, if they had children too. Husbands or wives at home. A life they needed to get back to, only for them to be handed a flag and an empty casket to be buried.

God may judge you, but his sins outnumber your own. Yeah, fuck that.

Stumbling slightly as she tried to not fall over her own two feet, Grace put the bottle of vodka down, kneeling down in front of her suitcase to find her phone. She had turned that bloody thing off after letting her father know to reach her through Cyclone, because her phone was blowing up every moment of the day now. She might even need to get a new number if things keep going like that.