Hadassah

the end

The night was a blur. I’d barely slept in that freezing cell, each minute blending into the next until my head was spinning. Just as I thought I’d lose myself completely, I heard something distant—a deep, roaring chant growing louder and louder.

“Dominate! Dominate! Dominate!”

I blinked in disbelief. I knew that voice anywhere. Patrick.

The shouts grew louder, rattling through the walls, shaking the entire building. I stumbled to my feet, heart pounding, pressing my ear to the cold metal door. Suddenly, the lock burst open, the door flying wide, and there stood Chris Jones, looking like a man on a mission. He saw me, his face fierce with determination.

“Hadassah,” he said, reaching for me, “we’re getting you out of here. Now.”

I didn’t even need to answer, just grabbed his hand as he pulled me down the narrow corridors, where guards were scattered, some lying unconscious from whatever madness had just gone down.

“Where’s Patrick?” I asked, breathless.

“He’s up ahead, rallying the team,” Chris answered, his voice sharp and focused. “The whole team’s here. We’re not stopping until you’re safe.”

As we turned a corner, I caught sight of Travis in the distance, throwing punches and laughing like he was at practice. “LMFAO! Let’s go!” he shouted, dodging a guard’s swing before taking him down with a solid hit. Nearby, Dad and Pops—Butker and Isiah—fought side-by-side, backs to each other, pushing back anyone who tried to stop them. They spotted me, and even in the chaos, I saw the relief in their eyes.

“Hadassah!” Dad shouted, his face breaking into a smile. Pops just nodded, a determined look on his face as he kept his guard up.

More of the Chiefs were there—Frank Clark, Clyde Edwards-Helaire, and even Andy Reid, who was orchestrating everything like it was the biggest play of his life. And Patrick was leading the charge, his voice booming through the halls as he yelled orders, moving through the fight with a focus I’d never seen.

When we finally reached the outside, the stars glimmered above us, but the air was filled with smoke and shouts. The White House loomed in the distance, a symbol of everything that had gone wrong. Patrick turned to all of us, his eyes fierce.

“We’re ending this. JD Vance is in there, hiding behind his guards and his orders. He’s the one who started all this, and it ends now.”

The whole team strutted forward, moving as one, breaking through every barrier until we reached the White House steps. Travis cracked his knuckles, smirking. “LMFAO, Vance, you’re about to get schooled,” he muttered, his voice carrying a dangerous edge.

As we stormed the building, the MAGA guards tried to stand their ground, but they were no match for the strength and unity of the Chiefs. Every hallway was a battleground, but we kept pushing forward, step by step, room by room.

As we burst through the White House doors, there was Biden, standing in the center of the room, hands raised as if to say he wasn’t the one we were looking for. The tension in the air was thick, and everyone fell silent, even Travis, who usually had some joke or laugh ready.

“Look,” Biden said, taking a deep breath, “I’m not your enemy here. But I know who you’re after. Vance—he’s in the tunnels. That’s where he’s been hiding.”

Patrick nodded, signaling to the others. Chris, Travis, and I followed him, weaving through the halls and down a narrow staircase that led underground. The air was damp, echoing with every step we took.

The tunnels stretched before us, twisting and turning in the dark, but something pulled me forward. I knew he was here. I could feel it.

We finally reached a heavy metal door at the end of the passage. I nodded to Patrick, who stood back, and slowly opened it. And there he was—JD Vance, cornered and alone, his face twisted with fear.

He tried to scramble away, but I stepped forward, blocking his escape. I could see him looking me over, like he was calculating his chances. But he knew. He knew there was nowhere left to run.

His gaze turned defiant, just for a moment, before he forced a twisted smile. “Clever girl,” he muttered, almost like a final taunt.

And then, BANG—the room echoed with the sound as he slumped to the ground, his last words hanging in the air. The silence after was deep, heavy, like the end of something huge.

I took a shaky breath, Patrick’s hand landing on my shoulder as he stood beside me, quiet. Chris and Travis were there too, looking at me with a mix of pride and relief. I felt my heart steady.

“It’s over,” Patrick whispered.

We turned and left the dark tunnels behind, heading back toward the light.