Cobalt

by Shelley Grace

  ‘Do you think that was a wise decision, Mr. President?’ Ted reasoned.

  ‘I was joking Ted. Nobody can do it better than Rory and Bella. They’re the best.’

  ‘I meant the policy Sir, I mean you saw the e-mail this morning. Who knows how far these lunatics will take this - they blew up a New York bus station, for Christ sake.’

  ‘I discussed this with you…’ William responded moving around to the other side of his desk to face Ted.

  ‘In private, which is where I thought it would stay!’ Ted interrupted, nearly shouting at William.

  ‘You raise your voice to the President?’ William joked, trying to calm his friend down. They had been friends since university. It had always been like this. William the vivacious one, always in the limelight, with Ted always there to keep his feet firmly planted on the ground. It was only natural that when William ran for office, Ted should become an integral part of the campaign, and part of the Watson administration party. William looked at his friend. The small, thin man always looked as if he had borrowed his body for the weekend and was still figuring out exactly how to use it. Of course, that was part of his charm. While Ted and William were the same age, fifty-six, William’s hair had taken on a silver hue, while what little of Ted’s that remained, stayed dark brown. With a few beers in him, Ted became the life of the party, and it was usually on these occasions that he chose to point out William’s snowy look. Of course William never failed to remind him, that at least he had a full head of hair, and a wife. Ted liked to say that he was far too busy to sustain a relationship, but William believed that Ted had never quite recovered after Gillian left Ted for William. They were in university when that happened. It was about six months after her stint with Ted that Gillian began to see him socially. Ted never let it interfere with his friendship with the both of them, but William knew it was one of the reasons he had never commit completely to a woman. Ted’s brown eyes focused on William from beneath his gold-rimmed, circular glasses as William continued.

  ‘Look, it had to happen. I mean at the moment the White House is controlled by every money hungry lunatic, who can get his hands on an Uzi.’

  ‘That’s why we had congress move on the crime bill. To eradicate weapons on the street, hand guns, Uzis, assault rifles…’

  ‘Yes, so now they have to wait three days before they can pick up their weapon of choice and take the White House. Acceptable?’

  ‘It’s a means to an end Mr President. Compromises have to made to get any bill past. It’s all political.’ Ted admonished.

  ‘Everything’ political. That’s why we’re politicians, but you know what. It’s done. It’s out there. Connie’s polling it as we speak, testing the public’s reaction to the announcement. You know, doing what a Press Secretary does best. Besides, whatever happens with this latest development, with the terrorists I’m sure it can be sorted out by other means. I’ve contacted Marcus. You know, after I ruined your day I decided to ruin his. He’s got his best people working on it as we speak. This policy is important legislation. It ranks up there with liberty and justice for all. We can’t out it because of a relatively small incident at a bus station. As cruel as this sounds, only three people died as a result, hardly an aggressive figure in comparison to other terrorist activities. It does not warrant the end of the non-negotiation policy. It warrants action, investigation, but not the end of a policy that could very possibly end terrorism in the US forever.’ William sat down behind his desk and motioned for Ted to take the seat opposite. ‘After all it was you who said we can’t allow sadists to control the government.’

  There was a soft tap on the door. It opened slightly and Gillian leaned her head through the gap, flicking a stray piece of deep brown hair from her face as she spoke.

  ‘I just wanted to tell you, I’m really proud of you, that’s all. Sorry to interrupt. Hi Ted.’ She smiled and left, closing the door behind her. William smiled also. After the fight they had had last night, he didn’t think she was speaking to him. William turned his attention back to Ted.

  ‘Don’t worry, so much.’ he said smiling at his friend.

  ‘I thought that’s what I was here for,’ Ted said, looking at his planner and seeing what his next meeting was.

  ‘Not entirely,’ William replied. ‘Who else have I got for a billiards partner? But seriously, I can’t see this going any further than it already has. It was a short-lived terrorist group, which has retreated at the publicity surrounding the incident today. Marcus will tell us when to worry.’ William then prepared himself for his next meeting, a fifteen minute session with the New U.S. Special Envoy for Sudan. With only 99 days remaining before the end of the interim period of the Comprehensive Peace and Aide Agreement, and the situation worsening with drought compacting on the war-torn, poverty stricken country, the presidential team was on budget re-assessment.

  CHAPTER 4

  Madeline walked into Director Shaw's office, head held high heels clicking on the tiled floor. She took the seat directly opposite her supervisor, and swinging one long leg over the other, gave him a flash of thigh. All thoughts of his purpose for this meeting went out of the CIA Director's head, as he admired the woman dressed in a red skirt suit, seated in front of him. If there were more meetings with Madeline, I'd never get any work done, he thought. I wish there were more…

  ‘Well?’ she asked.

  ‘Mad... Of course, the mission.’ he stated, his mind quickly switching from perverse thoughts to the business at hand. ‘Lychart intercepted a transmission, over an hour ago, between the White House and a known terrorist group, headed by none other than Kellerin, himself. As of this moment, however, we still don’t know its origin. I would like you to help me brief a team on the best strategy to track down and apprehend Kellerin and his men. If we fail, the President will be forced to pay billions of dollars in ransom, to save the lives of the citizens of Washington DC. And if it comes to that.... you know the President just publicly announced his new and improved non-negotiation policy. His feelings are that a terrorist negotiation less than six hours after that will hurt his popularity, and his credibility, so it's up to us. Lychart will have the transmission origin within the next two hours. The team must be ready by then.’

  ‘A team, Sir? My thoughts would be sending Rick and I....’

  ‘It has been a while since you and the Deputy Director have been in the field.’ He interrupted, placing emphasis on the Deputy in an attempt to gain more power in Madeline’s eyes by reminding her of his superior rank, in relation to that of her partner. He only received her usual calm, indifferent expression. He continued, ‘I have no doubt as to your abilities, but I was hoping your expertise at briefing operatives could be put to use…’

  Madeline cut him off. She rose, giving him another flash of leg. ‘Marcus, you know that no-one can do this as efficiently as me. I have studied Kellerin and his group in great detail. I know where and how they operate. You would also know that I have already evaluated the situation, and know when and where the next transmission will occur. And unlike your younger agents, I am already six steps ahead, and therefore know exactly what to anticipate. This must be a mission of stealth and speed, so the fewer number of people who know about it, the better.’ She stood facing Director Shaw as the intercom buzzed.

  ‘Mr. Director, is Madeline there? I've been trying to locate her. Her flight to Moscow leaves in one hour. She has two seats.’

  ‘I'll be right down, Lychart.’ Madeline looked triumphantly at Marcus Shaw, daring him to argue her decision. He remained silent. He looked at her. She was so elegant, refined, principled, disciplined and ruthless. Nothing stood between her and her main goal, which was always clearly articulated in her words and actions. Marcus resigned himself to the fact that he could not stop her from going on the mission. He resigned himself to the fact that he had no power, no control over this woman he desperately wanted to own. As she noted the look of resignation that crossed Marcus’s face, Madeline smiled to herself
. Just as she could with Rick, she could easily manipulate Marcus. Her motto served her well: ‘never work for a fool you cannot control, or a master you cannot outwit.’

  Madeline turned on her heels and left the office, telling Marcus she would contact him from Moscow, as she left. She heard him call after her, ‘be careful, Madeline, we need you,’ but she kept walking. She had forty-five minutes to be on a plane, and her partner still needed to be briefed on the mission at hand.

  * * * *

  Madeline looked at Rick. Apart from discussing the mission details, he had barely spoken to her since their conversation in the office earlier. He was sulking over Marcus choosing to brief her, over him. Marcus always did, and Rick always responded in the same way – ego controlled pouting. Madeline looked back at him. He looked to be asleep, but she knew better. She studied his face, looking from his silver-blonde hair to the small scar that marked his slightly pointed chin, to his closed eyes. She willed him to open them; that way she could read his thoughts, through them. After a few minutes Madeline returned her attention to the mission profile she was constructing on her lap-top computer. It's going to be a very long ten-hour flight, she thought.

  When the meal was served, Rick decided it was now or never. He turned and looked directly at Madeline, as she ate the Thai chicken and prawn salad. She stopped eating and faced him, a delicate eyebrow raised in question. ‘So, what's the game plan?’ she asked.

  ‘Why don't you be honest with me?’ Rick asked. ‘Will you tell me the truth?’

  ‘Don't I always?’ He hesitated. ‘Come on, that was an easy question. I expect more from you, Rick! You know I always tell the truth.’

  ‘Next you’ll say it’s easier to remember what story you told if you tell the truth.’ He knew he sounded very childish, but he didn’t care. He didn't know how she'd done it, but somehow she managed to change the subject, something else she was very good at

  ‘The truth will do it just about all of the time. But if you’re going to take that very adult attitude, we don’t need to talk…’ Rick heard the sarcasm in her statement.

  ‘You know, Madeline, it doesn't make you weak and helpless if you occasionally show emotion, if you occasionally admit that you care about me!’ Rick waited for a reaction. There was none. Not even a flicker of recognition of what he had just said passed over her face. She simply turned her attention back to the Thai salad in front of her. After two mouthfuls she put down the fork, and pushed the plate away from her.

  ‘I've lost my appetite,’ was the only explanation she gave.

  Rick knew he’d hit a nerve as Madeline was now sitting in silence and for the most part ignoring him, she always did this when he tried to get personal. He now needed to find something to occupy his mind for the remainder of the night-time flight, as he obviously wasn’t going to get anything else out of her now. He tried listening to the in-flight entertainment, but nothing on the ten channels available succeeded at drawing him in. Even the in-flight movies weren’t of interest this trip. Typical, he thought.

  Rick then grabbed a pencil and began tapping it on his tray-table. That activity only lasted until Madeline looked in his direction and raised an eyebrow. He knew she’d had enough. In this current mood she’d probably have him thrown off the plane at 14,000 feet. He settled back against the chair, resting his head against the raised side panel and closing his eyes. He decided that in order for him to last the rest of the journey without seriously offending his partner – by her current attitude towards him, or rather her almost total ignorance of him, he deduced that he had already offended her somewhat – he was going to have to find something completely distracting to occupy his mind.. He felt Madeline move slightly beside him, as she tried to get comfortable in the airline’s padded, reclining chair, he knew exactly what he was going to think about, something he envisioned on a fairly regular basis – particularly when Madeline was not speaking to him.

  Shifting slightly himself he conjured up an image of Madeline and himself in Bannon’s two storey barn. Opening one eye he glanced over at her, admiring her profile and amending his fantasy to incorporate her current mood. In his original fantasy he had her dressed only in one of his white business shirts, arms wide open, a beguiling smile lighting up her face. On second thoughts, he decided closing his eye again, Madeline was dressed in her usual business attire, with him handcuffed in front of her. In her present mood, he figured that’s exactly how it’d be – him handcuffed to prevent him from man-handling her. After all in all the romance novels he had ever read the hero always jumped the heroine in a barn – or a hay loft at least.

  With him handcuffed, hands behind his back, Madeline sat with one leg crossed over the other, on a hay bale, directly in front of him. From where he sat he had a lovely view of her upper thigh. He could also see that she was extremely annoyed with him. In his fantasies Madeline’s emotions were always easily judged…she never hid them from him. He smiled as his mind worked on ways to win her over, change the situation so to speak.

  Reaching behind himself, Rick’s fantasy self grabbed a piece of straw and began working at picking the lock. ‘Why are you so angry Madeline?’ Rick asked, feigning innocence.

  ‘I’m not talking to you.’ She snapped

  ‘Not, or won’t?’ Rick goaded.

  Does it matter?’ Madeline stated.

  ‘Yes, it does.’ He answered, still working at the lock. Almost there. ‘Not is different from wont. Not suggests I have a chance to…’

  ‘Shut- up.’ She snapped at him, obviously tired of his constant banter.

  ‘Make me.’ His voice was teasing, trying deliberately to annoy her further. He felt the spring open. He was free.

  In one smooth movement Madeline was off the hay bale and in front of him. She reached out for his tie, to pull it from his neck and use it as a makeshift gag. As her fingers fastened around the knot Rick pulled his now un-cuffed hands from behind his back, and snapped one end of the cuffs around the wrist closest to his face. His other hand knocked her to the ground. In another swift movement he had her other arm pulled up and handcuffed – both hands fastened securely around a down-pole, Madeline flat on her back.

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? Madeline questioned, her voice tight with rage, her blue eyes darkened with it.

  ‘Role reversal.’ He answered winking at her.

  ‘Let me go.’ She pulled against the cuffs, the metal rubbing against her wrists, cutting in enough to make her stop fighting the restraints. ‘Now!’

  Rick made no attempt to release her. Instead he moved to kneel over her, pinning her legs to the ground, positioning himself carefully to avoid an unwelcomed knee to the groin. He reached behind him and slid her black stilt heels from her feet.

  ‘Get off of me.’ Madeline tried to recoil from him, but only succeeded in banging her head against the post. ‘Damn’ she muttered under her breath. Rick heard it though. He raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Careful. You’ll really hurt yourself.’ He stated, climbing from her and moving to sit behind her.

  ‘Wouldn’t you want that.’ Madeline snapped, her patience worn thin, her neck hurting from the angle she was lying, her head pounding from hitting against the wooden post.

  ‘You know what I want.’ Rick whispered against her ear. He slid his hands in under her shoulders and began to massage her neck, his thumbs working against her collarbone as his fingers skilfully worked at the knots in her neck.

  Madeline kept her gaze steady on his face, trying to ignore what her body felt, what he was doing to make her body react that way. ‘You really think you have a clue, don’t you?’

  Rick shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows. ‘What?’ he asked sharply, his hands pausing for a moment.

  An ironic smile crossed her face momentarily. ‘You honestly think you understand me. And that amuses me.’

  Rick shook his head again. ‘I would never presume to understand you,’ he said softly. A sly smile spread across his face. ‘I just
know what you like. What turns you on.’ He bent down and began to kiss her throat. He felt the muscles shift in her neck. His hands slid down her arms and rested against her breasts. He felt and heard her quick intake of breath. He smiled and raised himself back up to look at her. ‘I also know you love me, so you can stop acting to the contrary right now.’ He leant forward and kissed her lips. She hesitated for a moment and then responded to his kiss. It was almost like she had shrugged her shoulders and thought ‘what the hell.’ Rick pulled away, and moved to sit back in front of her. ‘Well, what now?’ he asked, tracing her jaw-line with his right index finger.

  Madeline smiled. ‘You currently have my undivided attention. Do whatever you want.’