by D J Small
Summer kissed her temple. “No, it is not. You do not have any control over what those terrorists do. You did the best you could with what information you had.”
Val forced out a short breath and moved away from her, wiping at her eyes. “I knew about the tensions between Iraq and Kuwait, and the insurgents, but I wanted to let the Alliance handle everything out of respect for that fucking treaty.” She met Summer’s gaze. “I should have gone and gotten our people.”
Summer sighed. “Honey, you couldn’t have possibly foreseen this.”
“The moment they were taken, this becoming a reality increased,” Val argued. The fight left her, and her shoulders dropped as she murmured, “It’s like your crash all over again. Except this time, I killed them.” Summer stared at Val, unable to come up with something to say that would comfort her. The only thing she could do was move to where Val stood and wrap her arm around her. A fresh wave of tears ensued, and Summer consoled Val the best she could.
“What do you need?” Summer asked when Val’s crying began to die down.
Val didn’t say anything at first, but then she whispered, “I want you, but I know—”
“You have me.”
Val lifted her head and looked into Summer’s eyes. “Do I really?”
In that moment, the implications of what she was doing didn’t register to Summer, and thoughts of what it may do to them permanently, or her mentally, never crossed her mind. She wanted to be there for Val, and that was all that mattered. “You have me, completely,” Summer stated as she stared into Val’s hopeful brown eyes.
With some hesitation Val leaned in, and their lips met for a tentative kiss. As they kissed, Summer knew deep in the recesses of her mind she shouldn’t be doing this, but Val needed her. That one fact overrode all that was going on with her mentally. They could figure everything else out later, but for right now they would get through this catastrophic event together.
Chapter Fifteen
“Why the hell are you even here, Summer?” Kareem asked, tossing his notepad onto the table sitting in front of his armchair. “We have been at this for three months, and have made little progress.”
Summer stood up from the couch and argued, “I’m trying to get my shit together, and you’re supposed to be helping me with that, but it’s obvious you’re not as good as I thought you were.”
Kareem chuckled. “I see today is a day of deflection for you.” He sighed. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk, and I for damn sure can’t help you if you restrict the topics we can talk about.”
Summer let out an irritated breath and argued, “I have not restricted anything.”
“When I bring up certain subjects, you shut down and stay silent for the remainder of our appointment,” Kareem pointed out casually.
Summer turned and arched her eyebrow as she asked, “What the hell are you talking about?”
Kareem held up a finger. “We don’t talk about your crash.” He held up another one. “We don’t talk about why you decided to get help,” his ring finger joined the first two. “Heaven forbid I bring up the president. That puts you in a horrible mood, and lets not even bring up your relationship with her. I’m still trying to figure out how to approach that one without you beating me over the head”
“All right, I get your fucking point,” Summer grounded out, but then she countered, “It’s not my fault you lack the skills and abilities to get me to talk about anything substantial.”
Kareem let out a sharp laugh. “It is when you’re being a stubborn jackass.”
The comment almost made Summer grin. Val always liked calling her a stubborn jackass. She took a second and drew in a deep breath as she tried to figure out what to tell him, but no thoughts formed. Anytime Kareem tried to get her to talk about a certain topic, Summer’s brain froze and her mouth refused to open. She wanted to get help, but getting over the mental blocks she had constructed the last couple years was a challenge to overcome.
Kareem blew out an explosive breath and said, “All right, let’s try this one again. Outside of you wanting to get your shit together, what else prompted you to get help? What happened that made you realize you needed help from a professional?”
Summer clenched her jaw and stared at him. She knew the answer, but telling him and having him dissect it to help her process what it meant held no appeal to Summer. Some of her reluctance was because of her defenses, but another part was due to fear. A fear of opening a door that would leave her hurt and exposed, and those were two emotions Summer did not want to be involved with.
Kareem drew in another breath and released it. “I see you’re very forthcoming with an answer.” He sighed and pressed his lips together. “I read you are becoming a frequent visitor at the White House these days.”
Summer rolled her eyes. “I didn’t take you as someone who paid attention to those gossip feeds.”
“I don’t,” Kareem said with a small chuckle. “A few of the news streams reported it a few days ago. They believe you are consulting on the conflict in the Middle East. Are you? Will there be a war?”
Summer grunted. “No, I am not consulting.” She walked over to the window and stared at the Capitol in the distance. “If there is a war, know I will be against it.”
“Why?”
Summer turned around and leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m against anything that will take the lives of innocent soldiers. I know they willingly sign up to serve, but I am wholeheartedly against their deaths. War takes parents from their children and children from their parents.” She stopped and stared at Kareem before continuing. “Children are supposed to bury their parents, not the other way around.”
Kareem frowned and remarked, “That’s a grim thought.”
“That’s life,” Summer countered. “Or at least, how it should be. War destroys that.”
Kareem shifted in his chair. “You used to be one of them, remember?”
A sharp, brief laugh filled the office, then Summer said, “There is no ‘used to’, Mr. Faulkner. I still am one of them.”
“How so?” Kareem asked, and Summer watched as he got his notepad and pen off the table. She ignored the way her chest seized up at his actions, and turned around to stare out the window.
“For someone who has a history of treating servicemembers, I hope you know this is an asinine question to ask.”
“It is, but at the same time it isn’t, because the answer is always different.” He paused for a second then added, “I’m always curious to find out the various answers, hoping I might find one that will be similar to another client’s.”
Summer shook her head and decided to answer the question to sate his curiosity. “Being in the military is something that ingrains itself into you the moment you sign your life away. From the oath to boot camp to your first mission, it’s there inside of you, shaping your thoughts, actions, and who you are as a person.” She chuckled. “There is a reason why they break recruits in boot camp. It’s so they can rebuild them into the perfect soldier. It’s worse in the academy.” Summer turned and began to make her way back to the couch. “The only things that matter are the country and your next mission to protect it. It gets drilled into your head day in, and day out.”
Summer rubbed the tops of her thighs as she looked down at the maroon carpet covering the floor. “I lived my life, but I also lived for my next mission.” Serving her country and completing missions had given Summer a purpose, along with the drive to be a part of something bigger than herself, but she struggled to find either of those things now.
Kareem didn’t say anything for a moment, making Summer believe the lapse between questions was more for her sake. “What do you live for now?” he asked after another minute went by. “There are no more missions for you to accomplish, so what’s left for you?”
The question stirred a number of emotions inside of her, and she wanted to get up and punch him for daring to ask such a question, but Summer decided t
o take the less hostile route. She released a long breath. “What’s left for me are the soldiers who sacrificed all or some of themselves for the mission. To help the loved ones they left behind, and to help the soldiers the system has forgotten about. This is my mission now.”
Summer glanced up to see Kareem nod. He tilted his head to hold her gaze. “That is commendable, Summer. You can be proud of the work you are doing.”
“It’s not,” Summer countered with an aggravated breath. “It’s foolish and self-serving.”
“How?”
Summer didn’t answer the question as she continued to look down at the carpet underneath her feet. Her work with the foundation and helping soldiers and their families was due to a number of things, and she didn’t want to put those reasons under a microscope. It wasn’t like she would be able to speak about them anyway. She took a deep breath and lifted her head. “How the hell did we get onto that subject?”
Kareem smiled and replied, “We were talking about your recent, and frequent, visits to the White House.”
Summer narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s none of your business.”
Kareem’s smile widened. “Since I’m careening down a vein of conversation that will surely piss you off, I’ll ask this question: have you told Val about your therapy sessions?”
“There is no reason for me to tell Val about my therapy,” Summer stated, her tone terse and direct.
Kareem hummed in response. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, then he sighed. “It seems we’re back at square one.” Summer only stared at him. “How are you doing without the sedatives? Are you sleeping?”
Summer grunted. She didn’t know what the hell she was doing, but it definitely wasn’t sleeping. “I guess.”
“And the anti-depressants? Any adverse reactions?”
Summer shrugged. “Not that I can tell.”
Kareem nodded and wrote something on the notepad. “Since you just started them this week, I’m certain you won’t notice anything quite yet, but if you have any of the side effects we talked about, let me know.” He pinned Summer down with a hard gaze. “I’m serious, Summer.”
Summer nodded. “Okay, I’ll tell you if I feel like jumping off the Arlington Bridge.”
Kareem stared at her, a deadpan expression taking up his face.
Summer smirked. “I guess that wasn’t a good joke.”
“No, it was not.” He lowered his pen and asked, “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”
Summer stood up from the couch as several things came and went from her mind. There were so many things she could talk to Kareem about, like her fear of talking about her issues, but she couldn’t get over her mental blocks. She drew in a deep breath through her nose. “Keep trying,” Summer said softly.
“Keep trying? What’s that—” He stopped. “I’m not going to stop trying, Summer. I’m here to help you. I just wish you would talk—about anything really. It doesn’t have to be about something that triggers you.”
Summer shook her head, unable to do any more therapy for the day. “How are you doing with the mental health initiative?”
Kareem sighed before he started talking about his plans for the program and helping the soldiers and veterans who needed mental healthcare.
~~~
During her tenure as president for the last five, going on six, years, Val had gotten good at blocking out the white noise created by politicians, military advisors, and staffers who tried to talk over one another in a pathetic attempt to prove they had the best idea, hoping Val would give them a metaphorical gold star. However, Val’s current situation included more white noise than usual, because the leaders from the Alliance, save Nasir and Hasem, were on the large holo-screen via video chat and added to the incessant chatter.
The meeting had started off professionally, and all in attendance were polite, but then it had taken an ugly turn. Admiral Prescott had called the prime minister from Qatar a racial slur, and Val had scolded him for using the word, but it had been the beginning of the meeting’s downfall. Val enjoyed bickering and backbiting as much as the next politician, it was almost as addictive as any drug, but she couldn’t take anymore. Val stood from her chair and shouted, “Enough!”
The room fell silent. Val looked at those in the Situation Room, then her gaze took in the numerous faces filling the holo-screen. She drew in a deep breath. “It all comes down to this; the Alliance needs to find out what additional support they need and how much.”
“We do not need your country’s involvement,” Azar Hussain interjected. The prime minister of Jordan narrowed her eyes, pinning Val down with a hard stare. “We can handle everything with our own military.”
Basara jumped into the conversation. “We do not have enough manpower to fight the insurgents in Iraq whilst trying to protect our other interests. We need help from our allies.”
Azar opened her mouth to argue, but Val said, “The Alliance needs to figure out what its next move is and if you need American support. But the bottom line is this, if we do not have our people back by the end of the month, we will go into Iraq and take care of this ourselves.”
Val meant the threat to a degree. She had a little voice in her head telling her to think about the Treaty of 2072, but at this moment she did not care. For the last three months, the leaders of the Alliance had been at one another and not providing any results, but more importantly, the bodies of three American soldiers still remained in hostile territory, and Val was determined to get them back by any means necessary.
Getting Nasir and Hasem out of power was also another priority of hers, but she planned to wait until after the soldiers were recovered to bring it up to the Alliance leaders. They needed to get their heads out of their asses first.
Admiral Prescott held up his hand and threw in his two cents. “Madam President, I think it is unwise for us to send more of our people over there when they barely have any control.”
Val glowered at the admiral. If he wanted to be a willing target for her annoyance and frustration, then she would give it to him. “Admiral, I understand your concern, but leaving our allies to fend for themselves during this tumultuous time would make it seem as though we are holding a grudge, and we are not. My administration believes in the Alliance, I just hope they can resolve their internal conflicts. We are only going to give them the support they need.”
Val looked back at the holo-screen. “I would appreciate an update by the end of next week if possible. I don’t want to involve the global community in this, because the Alliance deserves the opportunity to solve this conflict on its own, but be aware the organization is now under a microscope. Good day, ladies and gentlemen.”
Val walked out of the Situation Room without another word. If she stayed any longer, it was possible she would do something ill-advised and create a global outrage while simultaneously firing people. Val found Addison standing in the lobby near the Situation Room.
“How’d it go?”
Val grunted, and the two of them made their way up to the Oval Office. As soon as the door closed and they were able to talk freely, Val said, “We’re getting nowhere, and it’s causing me to be impulsive because I’m getting irritated.”
Addison groaned as Val walked over to her desk and sat behind it. “Don’t get impulsive. It’ll do more harm than good.”
“Who fucking cares?” Val exploded. With the weight of the last three months sitting heavily on her, she had finally reached her breaking point. “They were shot in cold blood, and a video of it was streamed on the Internet for the whole world to see. There should be outrage! The Alliance should be bending over backwards to prove to the global community that they can handle the insurgents, but what are they doing? Bickering back and forth about what should be done. I have half a mind to send Special Forces into Iraq and do what needs to be done.”
Val blew out an aggravated breath, then slumped back against her office chair. “I just want to bring them home and give their famili
es some closure, but politics is preventing that, and it’s not fair.” She drew in a deep breath through her nose and whispered, “If this had happened to Summer, I would have sent us into Iran immediately thereafter.” Val meet Addison’s gaze. “Their families need this, Addison.”
“I know, Val,” Addison said with a soft sigh. “But we have to play politics. The outrage is there, but people are also apprehensive about the United States being involved in something we have no right to be in, especially since it involves the Middle East. It took us a long time to get out of there, so everyone is apprehensive about getting involved with this conflict.”
Val sighed. She and Addison had had different versions of the same conversation several times since the video had aired, but she wouldn’t change her stance on it. Her goal was to get the bodies of the soldiers home and possibly pull American troops out of the region. Val sighed again. There were too many variables for her liking, and a number of them rested in the hands of other people. “How is the Senate doing with the budget since it passed the House last night?” Val asked, needing to think about something else.
Addison easily accepted the topic change and replied, “The discussion around it is positive, but some senators want to know where the funding to support the Alliance is coming from since you gave your approval to the five percent decrease in defense funding and allocated it to the public health fund. There are even more questions when you mention W-A-R.”
Val huffed in irritation and muttered, “Of course.” She opened her email and reviewed a few of the messages before commenting on what Addison had said. “We both know where the funding is coming from, and everyone else would too if they would read the entire bill.” She looked at Addison. “I’m assuming they haven’t, or has someone mentioned the extended tax on corporations and you just haven’t told me?”
Addison shook her head. “I have not heard a thing about it since you told Senator Graham to put in there, so if anyone has read it, they aren’t saying anything.”