Roy's Independence Day

Chapter 1-2

Sienna felt a gentle shove against her back and stumbled forward as Daniel gave her a push. She turned to tell him to cut it out and she had just a moment to see his smile before he closed the door on her heels. She wished she’d thought to flip him the finger before it closed, just as she had to that sniper on the White House roof. Her father had taught her situational awareness, making the sniper easy to spot. But when he had aimed his weapon at her, it had been completely infuriating. Who did the swine think she was?

It was also her first day on the job and being treated as a threat had just pissed her off all the more. When he’d quickly recentered his aim on her, she somehow knew he wasn’t looking at her as a threat but rather as something to leer at. It had tipped her over the edge. If he thought for a second that—

“Hello, Sienna,” the President tossed his pen down as if the Roosevelt Desk was just…his desk.

“Hello, Mr. President.” She’d get a handle on this in a minute.

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to call me by my given name?” He made it sound sad and plaintive. “My wife will barely use it because I was already President when we met. Please?” He tried a pout which didn’t work at all on his strong face.

“Not a chance, Mr. President.” Maybe she’d never get a handle on this.

“I was afraid of that. Well, I do apologize for bringing you in so late in the administration, but your predecessor as my National Security Advisor seemed to think a shot at being the next senator from North Carolina was more important. Can’t imagine why.”

It was something of a surprise that the home of the nation’s largest fort, Fort Bragg, actually liked the former NSA. While the National Security Advisor wasn’t actually a part of any intelligence agency—rather an appointee of the President—the military still generally despised NSAs on principal. The fact that he had been a retired two-star Army general before becoming the NSA probably hadn’t hurt, but it would also put her at a distinct disadvantage having no direct military service herself.

The President was clearly awaiting some sort of a response. It was definitely her turn to speak.

“It will be…is an honor, sir.”

“I’m just very glad to have you aboard. I really do appreciate the skillset you bring and not just as an interim fill-in. I can’t afford anything less than the best in your position.”

“Thank you, Mr. President.” Sienna felt about six feet tall with the compliment, but her nerves downgraded that to her normal five-six within seconds. Then they once again threatened to make her feel seven years old and four feet tall.

“The nerves go away eventually,” he remarked with disarming empathy. “Just ask this man,” the door opened behind her.

Daniel, at last. Thank the lor—

“He’s lying,” Vice President Zachary Thomas said as he walked into the Oval. “I didn’t hear a word, but I wouldn’t trust him if I were you.” His flat Coloradan accent gave no hint as to whether he was joking.

“Why not?” Sienna was feeling too disoriented to make sense of anything at the moment.

“Eight years ago he chose me as a running mate. It puts me in a prime seat for this election. Care to tell me how that makes the least little bit of sense? You tell me how and I’ll take it back.”

“I can’t imagine how it would, Mr. Vice President.” Which the moment she said it, she knew it had come out all wrong. “I meant—”

“No. No.” The Vice President laughed aloud and held out his hands to stop her. “That was perfect, don’t mess it up by trying to straighten it out.” He dropped into one of the two armchairs at the head of the room, the other clearly for the President by its somewhat more dominant position.

Sienna studied the two men. Both were tall, dark-haired, and dressed in immaculate suits, but you would never mix them up.

All of the President’s Washington, D.C. upbringing showed in a formality that defined him despite his attempt to put her at ease.

Zachary Thomas looked as if he was ready to slouch his way onto a horse, though she knew he’d barely ridden prior to meeting Daniel’s sister just last winter. They had been married in May at a small ceremony on her family’s farm. The fact that the Darlingtons were one of the first families of Tennessee and the Vice President was rapidly becoming the presumptive nominee of his party, had of course made the event headline news around the world.

There had been a great deal of scuttlebutt about the wedding being motivated by the upcoming election, but her father had put the kibosh on that. “Never seen a pair like the two of them. They both get so mushy together a man has to look the other way. The President’s no less in love with his wife, but they are two very driven, very serious people. The Vice President and Anne Darlington-Thomas are…” he searched for a word he was comfortable with, “…gentler. No less impressive, just gentler.”

Sure enough, while waiting for the meeting to begin, the two men were talking about their wives.

“Anne and the First Lady are plotting something for the Fourth, but they aren’t letting me in on it. How about you, Peter?” So, the Vice President was on a first name basis with the President. Braver man than she was.

“Not a word, Zack. Of course with our luck, it will all be for the World Heritage Centre and not a thing for us. Maybe we need a plan of our own.”

“I’ll bring the beer if you bring the dogs…but I’ll wager they’ll surprise the hell out of us just like always.”

The two men shared a smile of happy complacency, so sure of their spouses.

The President and the Vice President had an almost Laurel and Hardy smoothness to them as they continued bantering with the other people arriving for the meeting. The two men had grown very close ever since the Italian avalanche that had rocketed the already popular Vice President into the stratosphere for his rescue efforts. Again, something had changed behind the scenes that she’d only been able to observe externally.

Well, now she was a step closer to the inside for all the good it did her.

And her father had been right, the Vice President was completely mushy about his wife. Why couldn’t she ever attract mushy? She attracted either the ones so driven that their career meant far more to them than she did. Of course, she was the same way, so the driven types made for a bad combination both ways. The other kind she fell for were the total dogs, like that damned sniper. Worse, she fell for them every time. Well, not this one, mostly because she wouldn’t have time.

She was now the new National Security Advisor to the President of these United States of America and by god she was going to be the best one ever, even if it only lasted seven months. Six months and twenty-one days. A lot could happen in so much time.

With only a slight hint from Daniel—once he finally arrived—she took the position on the couch closest to the President’s chair as the others settled in their familiar places. Secretaries of State, Defense, and Homeland Security. Treasury, economics advisor, and the Directors of National Intelligence and d**g Policy. Even the White House Chief of Counsel and the U.N. Ambassador were in attendance. Last in was General Brett Rogers, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, arriving precisely one minute early. His preferred place was standing between the Vice President and Daniel. Everyone had come to the first meeting with the new NSA. The entire National Security Council was in attendance, the statutory attendees and the regulars, as well as the advisors and the additional participants who were typically present only when needed.

But no pressure.

It was probably too late now to get out of the meeting by fainting.

There would be no nice smooth handoff from the former advisor to her. He was spending the start of his new senatorial campaign at home with a late spring flu. She was on her own.

Greetings of different qualities vibrated through the air and she did her best to calibrate and quantify them. Director of Homeland Security and National Intelligence were old college frat buddies who could barely stand each other. General Brett Rogers didn’t smile at anyone and kept strictly to himself. She knew from prior meetings with him over the years at her father’s house that he was taciturn by nature, not temperament. He would speak when he had something to say but not a moment before or after.

For the thousandth time Sienna wondered at the tack she herself should take. There were many here ready to discount her. She was the youngest NSA of the four female NSAs there had ever been and the only woman in the room this morning. She also knew from a lifetime of experience that the only female types discounted more thoroughly than blondes were redheads. She’d considered dying her hair to brown, but for better or worse had stuck with natural, dark red, and it was too late to change it now.

She would be…

She glanced at the gorgeous grandfather clock that stood guard by the door closest to the President’s desk and would have overwhelmed any lesser room than the Oval Office. It was straight up eight a.m., the scheduled start of the meeting.

She would be…herself, just as her father always described her: a natural-born hard-a*s.

“Good morning, gentleman. Mr. Vice President and Mr. President.” She raised her voice to cut through the conversations. The room quieted as she flipped open the cover on her tablet computer and tapped it awake.

General Rogers gave her a terse nod of approval for the timely start—an unexpected show of support.

“Item One on today’s agenda: the South China Sea and what the Chinese are doing there this time.” A hard-a*s with a sense of humor. That worked for her.

Daniel snorted with a suppressed laugh.

That was a better start than she’d expected. Then she started in on the reports she’d spent most of last night and this morning assembling into a coherent presentation.

It only took a few minutes before she and the rest of the group were fully engaged by the information she had assembled. Input and suggestions sounded in rapid-fire succession and she fielded each one, able to answer most and flagging the strays for further research. Thoughts of anything else faded away: May morning, Oval Office, new job, and jerk Secret Service snipers.

Sienna had many lovers who had accused her of “being the job.” It had never been more true than her first moments as the National Security Advisor sitting in the Oval Office.

And she was fine with that.

Ninety minutes on. Ninety minutes off.

Roy’s sniper detail rotated down into the Secret Service room in the basement of the West Wing every hour and a half. Not that time off was actually “off.” Lunch hour was the only true break they ever came close to having, and even that rarely happened.

There was always paperwork, studying new threats, or helping the prep team for the next Presidential outing. It would be so much easier if the country’s leaders just locked themselves in on Inauguration Day and didn’t come out until their replacement trundled their belongings in the door four or eight years later. It didn’t work that way so the preparation tasks were endless.

By his final watch on the roof that day, he was sure he’d missed her—best looking woman he’d seen in a long while. A bummer, but that was the job. Wouldn’t have minded another look no matter what Frank Adams thought about it.

The city was emptying. Rush hour madness had set in.

Roy didn’t exactly relax his vigilance, but for some reason, crazies tended to stage their attacks early in the day. Maybe by the time they had their cappuccino or overdose of McGrease, the little aliens in their heads would leave off with their “special” instructions for a while. Now it was just the steady drone of distant traffic. The White House and the wide grounds made it a relatively quiet haven among the commuter madness.

This bubble of silence always made him think of hunting back home in Hardwick, Vermont. He and his father had spent endless hours tracking through the forests around the backside of Lake Elligo. Sometimes with rifles, sometimes bow and arrow, but most often simply armed with fishing poles. His father rarely spoke, except to instruct, and Roy had come to love the peace of those times.