Day 245 – The Passenger – Part 12

Word count:1056

The coffee that Phil had brought tasted absolutely disgusting. If she had been a connoisseur of ditch-water, she would have said it was akin to a ditch water contaminated with uranium and possibly a hint peat and cow dung. She almost spat it out when she first tasted it, but holding the little plastic cup gave her something to do while sat in the interview room as Phil was being interviewed by Walker and Finch.

It must have been hours and hours she had been here for. It felt like a week. Why she was not allowed free she knew all too well, but that was not something they had confirmed yet! She was pissed off. Suspicion on this level was completely unfounded. They had no evidence that she even entered the bank – never mind hit that police officer! As for the small shop in the middle Tumbleweed Town, they probably had never heard of what a police force was.

Kate crossed her legs impatiently. Alone with her thoughts, she could only think about the events that had happened in the White House. They were so spectacular, she was dying to tell someone, but of course her lips had to be sealed else she really would never be leaving this place.

To say she woke up in the White House after a nap in the car may have been slight hyperbole on her part. But she was part of the story, she had the right to exaggerate! What had happened was in fact she had woken up in the car park to the White House. The actual government-own-CIA-controlled carpark that no doubt have drones monitoring their every movement and someone somewhere was downloading their entire social networking history onto their tablet PC in order to verify that they had never ever been affiliated with any form of explosives.

The White House loomed before them. Not the traditional postcard-world-famous view: the back entrance.

“What are we doing here?” Kate woke up, dazed and confused and very, very hungover. She wanted eggs. And bacon.

Nick was jumping around in the car giggling to himself, “I can’t believe it. I cannot believe I actually got us in!”

He was wearing a smart black suit and a tie.

“Where did you get that from?”


“When? What? But…”

“Look at yourself, Miss Fancypants!”

Kate looked down. She, too, had transformed from drunken hick with dusty office clothing to a slick, slim woman in a smart black pencil skirt, new blouse and a suit jacket.

“Did you undress me? Oh my god you undressed me!”

“Ish – I didn’t look!”

“Did you drug me, you drugged me?”

“No, I swear to god I didn’t!”

“Nicolas – Nicolas whatever the heck your last name is – tell me this instance, did you drug me?”

Nick cringed, “A tiny bit,” he demonstrated with his fingers, “Just an insignificant amount…”

“You saw me naked!”

“I did not remove your undergarments!”

“Oh god this bra feels new…”

“Okay, okay I couldn’t resist!”

“Resist what?”

“The bra!”

“I’m married! I’m married!”

“Calm down, you’ll bring us attention!”

“Nick,” she thrust a finger out the window the direction of the White House, “Why the fuck are we here and how the fuck did we get in?”

“Because I wanted to and because I managed to get a fake pass from a friend of a friend of a friend. I wanted to try it.”

“What… what is actually happening.”

“Come on, let’s go in! It’ll be a laugh!”

“What are we going to do?”

Nick’s mischievous grin returned with a vengeance.

“Something illegal… please tell me you’re not going to kill the President?”

“No, no – god no! He’s out of the country anyway. Let’s just steal a pen or something?”

“A pen?”

“Or something…”

Kate’s despairing composition could not compete with Nick’s sheer determination. Within ten minutes they were in the reception of the White House signing in guest passes and greeting everyone as if they had known them for years.

“What are we doing, what are we doing?” Kate mumbled under her breath.

“We are being calm, collected and professionally casual.”

“Do you even know your way around this place?”

Kate had never imagined what the inside of the White House would really look like. She had seen set versions of it on movies and tv; in news conferences there had even been snippets of it but being here was so far removed from possibility that she was starting to sweat with the pressure of having to stay within the comfort zone of denial.

The hallways were white with a rich red carpet. Orname frames encapsulated artist’s impressions of old politicians, the founding members, the Civil War and the Civil Rights Movements. Photographs of a moment caught in time of every President since the turn of the last century could be seen everywhere. Scattered around the place were little tables of fake flowers. Walking along the corridor felt like wandering through a posh hotel. People in smart suits breezed by chattering about important issues and files, but no one looked at them. They were in. They were normal; they were not suspicious.

“We’re not going into the Oval office, are we?”

Kate breathed a sigh of relief at Nick’s response.

“No way in hell, I am not that mad!”

“Oh thank god,” Kate’s pulse calmed.

“I’m not letting you anywhere near that place!”

Nick smiled and ran off down the hallway. Kate just stood there, panicking. Were they watching her? Did they know? Did she act accordingly enough? Would he get caught? What if he did get caught? Could she cope, could she have the suave and intellect to get out on her own?

She hovered by the nearest elevator, pretending to wait for one even though she had not pressed the button. In the corner there was some post-it notes, clearly left for anyone to use. She picked them up and pretended to be reciting some speech she had to make, just in case anyone came along.

Footsteps. She heard them marching through. Armani heels against soft carpet, unmistakable. Seconds later Nick turned the corner with a pen in his hand and the most electric expression in his eyes.

“That,” he announced, pressing the down button on the elevator, “was cool.”

~ by S.G. Mark on June 8, 2012.

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