The West Wing’s shadow engulfed the SUV as the driver brought the vehicle to a halt. Alex and Webb sat in the back seat with Martin between them. Alex had never expected to see the White House in person, let alone have the opportunity to go inside. Two soldiers in ceremonial uniforms stood at attention beside the building’s entrance. The bronze seal of the President of the United States hung above the double doors.

Webb got out of the vehicle to help Martin. Alex left on the opposite side. She looked around the White House grounds. The Executive Residence stood to the east, looking just like the old photos and movies: the pristine white walls, the smooth marble columns supporting the northern portico, and the rows of rectangular windows. The only difference was the flag waving high above the roof: red, white, and blue but instead of stars, a coiled white rattlesnake.

Martin’s boots hit the pavement with a thunk, and he started toward the West Wing’s entrance. Webb pointed for Alex to follow. Inside, the foyer was clean and well lit. The walls were beige and the ceiling and trim were white. A glass-fronted bookcase stood against one of the walls. Two paintings hung near the case. One painting depicted George Washington crossing the Delaware River. The other was of the New York skyline focused on two identical skyscrapers side-by-side towering above their neighbors.

Alex’s excitement transitioned to anxiety as they moved through the West Wing. Martin had assured her she would be safe. But if anyone recognized her, the White House security forces would descend on her like a swarm. With Webb so close, she was defenseless.

They walked slowly through the corridors, keeping with Martin, whose steps were heavy even on the carpeted floors. Men and women in military uniforms and business suits flowed around them. A few people acknowledged Martin and exchanged brief greetings but no one paid Alex any attention. Webb’s presence seemed to make the staff uneasy. Everyone gave Webb nervous glances while others deliberately changed course to avoid him. Even the NEA realizes that he’s a monster, she thought with a hint of satisfaction.

They arrived at a small office. A woman sitting at a cluttered desk looked up. “General Martin, he’s eager to see you. Go on in.”

“Thank you, Ashley,” Martin said.

Martin went to a door angled into the wall and pushed it open.

Alex followed Martin inside and instantly recognized the Oval Office. Across the space, a man sat in a black leather chair behind an elaborately carved oak desk. Behind him were three windows looking out on a grove of trees. A flag stood at either side of the middle window. The left flag was identical to the one above the Executive Residence. The other was dark blue with the presidential seal in the middle.

The man behind the desk got up. He was in his early forties with the tall and slender figure of a runner. His skin had the hint of a fading tan, and his wavy brown hair tapered neatly to the base of his neck. His eyes were cool-gray, vibrant, alive, and alert. He wore a black suit with a white shirt and a red tie. He grinned at Martin and walked briskly to the middle of the room.

“John,” President Resnick said, shaking Martin’s left hand, “it’s good to see you. I knew I put the right man in charge. I wish you had told us earlier about General Park. I would have had a lot less sleepless nights.”

“After New York, I wasn’t sure bringing up my correspondences with a Directorate general would be in my best interest.”

“Well, it all worked out. Please, take a seat. Have a drink.” Resnick gestured at a bottle and several glasses on the table in the center of the room. Then he looked from Webb to Alex. “You, too, Colonel. And… I’m afraid we haven’t been introduced.”

Martin and Webb were silent. Alex nervously shifted her position away from the door. Then Martin gave her a nod. “I’m… My name is Alexandra.” She hesitated and then added, “Bedford.”

Resnick blinked. He looked uncertain. Then he laughed. “Very good, John. I know I’ve complained about security, but…” Resnick’s voice trailed off as he looked from Martin to Webb, neither of them smiling.

“Who are you?” Resnick’s voice was low and dry.

“Alexandra Bedford.”

Resnick retreated until he came up against the desk. “No. This— How did…?”

“She isn’t a threat,” Martin said.

“Not a threat?” Resnick said in disbelief.

“Colonel Webb can neutralize her abilities. There’s no risk. I can assure you, Mr. President, Alexandra means you no harm.” Martin turned to Alex. “Isn’t that right?”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Alex said.

Resnick stared at her. Alex could tell he was uneasy. “This isn’t what we agreed,” he said.

“Yes, Mr. President,” Martin said, “but I felt it necessary to bring her to see you in person.”

Resnick shook his head and circled back to the far side of the desk. “John, I need you to give me a reason not to call security. What you’ve done. This… You’ve brought a ticking bomb into the middle of our capital.”

“I can keep her under control, sir,” Webb said. “If she tries—”

Resnick held up his hand. “I’m sure the Directorate thought they could control her. And look at what happened.”

Alex broke in, “I said I wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Resnick ignored her and continued speaking to Martin, “General, I wanted to overlook your history with the Directorate. I was even willing to believe you acted in the NEA’s best interest in New York. But now…” Resnick looked at Alex, “you bring her here?”

This is going well. Alex glanced at the door. Webb stood blocking the exit.

Martin sighed. “May I have a seat?” Resnick hesitated and then gestured toward the middle of the room. Martin limped to one of the couches and lowered himself down. He rubbed his right knee and then leaned back. “Not one of my better days, I’m afraid,” he said with a weak smile.

Resnick’s expression remained humorless. He stared at Martin, occasionally sending quick side-glances at Alex and Webb. Alex felt awkward and uncomfortable standing stiff at the door with Webb directly behind her. But she was hesitant to move, afraid she might spook Resnick into shouting for the guards.

“I knew Alexandra’s mother.” Martin’s voice was calm and clear. “We were close friends. I was there when Alexandra was born. I was there when she was baptized. I was there when she took her first step. Kate… her mother died a year before the outbreaks. My last promise to her was I would look after Alexandra as best I could.”

Resnick looked surprised. “And you’re willing to put the NEA at risk for this girl?”

“Yes,” Martin said.

“Then why did you bring her here? I agreed to speak to her, but the intent was she would be well out of our territory.”

“I wanted you to meet her. I needed to show you she’s more than a weapon.”

Resnick regarded Alex for a long moment. Then he gestured at her and Webb. “Why don’t the two of you sit down?”

Alex didn’t move. Webb began to reach for her arm but she stepped away. Slowly, she went to the couch opposite Martin and sat. Webb took a seat at Martin’s side and stared at Alex. Even with the black membrane covering his eyes, she could tell he was irritated.

Alex looked at Resnick. He was leaning just slightly forward with his hands on the desk. He appeared to be studying her. She wondered if she looked threatening or only small and nervous, as she felt. To her surprise, Resnick circled back to the front of the desk and then came to the middle of the room. He sat down in the cushioned chair at the head of the two couches.

“Do you prefer ‘Alex’ or ‘Alexandra’?” Resnick said.

“‘Alex’ is fine,” she said cautiously.

Resnick nodded. “My sister preferred that, too. Her name was Alexandria. After the city – not the one here in Virginia, but in Egypt. Only our father called her that.” He smiled, but after a moment, his expression turned somber. “She died during the outbreaks. So did our parents… So did everyone. I don’t suppose you remember those times, do you?”

Alex shook her head. There were confused images: a black helicopter, her father putting a headset over her ears, a military cargo plane, and the entrance portal of Cheyenne Mountain. But nothing concrete.

“The United States died that August,” Resnick said. “As far as I know, there weren’t any survivors here in Washington, and if there were, they weren’t able to hold things together. Everything collapsed. For those first five years, the only thing resembling order was the Directorate. I have to give your father credit: he got things running quickly. But even as far away as Massachusetts, we heard things. Stories about forced labor camps, military rule, mass executions. A few people – I was part of a group just trying to survive outside Boston – they went west toward Colorado anyway. They promised to send help if they found it. We never saw them again. Of course, I can’t say if they even made it to Cheyenne Mountain, but…” Resnick’s voice trailed off, and he shook his head.

“Eventually, we realized if we wanted to survive, we had to help ourselves. It took us a year before we managed to build something that even resembled a community. But we grew. Eventually, we had alliances across the entire East Coast. We traded supplies, offered mutual protection, and started to rebuild. Then we came into contact with the Directorate. We never wanted a war. We tried to avoid one as long as we could. Most of us were against an organized military. I was a proponent of militias, nothing more.”

Resnick turned to Martin. “But John convinced us we would need to be able to stand up to the Directorate. It’s thanks in part to him we’ve survived this long.”

Martin offered a slight nod.

Resnick looked back at Alex. “You say you don’t intend us any harm. Is that true?”

Carefully, she replied, “I said I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“But would you hurt me if it meant victory for the Directorate? How far would you go to win?”

Alex held Resnick’s gaze but kept silent.

“I need you to understand something,” Resnick said. “The NEA will finish this war. We will not accept anything but unconditional surrender.”

“You won’t win,” Alex said quietly.

“I’m sorry?”

For the first time since entering the office, she allowed her voice to take on a threatening tone. “I said you won’t win.”

Resnick looked amused. “John, could you give us a brief description of where our forces stand?”

“General Anderson and General Park will reach their objectives by 1600 local time. We expect Cheyenne Mountain will hold for a few days, but once we begin the attack, Peterson, Fort Carson, and Colorado Springs should be under our control within twenty-four hours.”

Alex regarded Martin for a moment. “And what about my dad?”

“I’m told your father is in a coma,” Resnick said. “Is that true?”

Again, Alex was silent.

“The Directorate’s leadership will have to answer for what they’ve done,” Resnick said. “We have ample proof of the atrocities committed by—”

“You’re not going to hurt him.” She glared at Resnick and Webb. “Not again.”

“Threatening me won’t help your position.”

“So what do you want me to say? If you think I’m just going to cooperate while you—”

“Alexandra,” Martin interrupted, “perhaps—”

“No, it’s all right, John,” Resnick said. “I want to hear her out.”

She took a deep breath. Just calm down. He’s right. You’re not in a position to make threats. But maybe you can do some good.

“You said you never wanted a war,” Alex began. “So why can’t we just end it? If you attack us, more people are going to die. Why won’t you just talk to us? We can sign a treaty.”

“What would you propose to be the terms?”

“An end to the fighting. Everyone can just pull back to their own territory and we can leave each other alone. My dad wanted to sign a treaty. That’s what we came to New York to discuss.”

“So, even though we hold the upper hand, you’d like us to withdraw and act as if none of this ever happened?”

“I don’t know,” she said, irritated. “I’m sure if you talked to General Harrison or someone at Peterson, you could figure something out. Don’t you think enough people have died?”

Resnick seemed to consider her question. “I made a decision at the start of this war. I told our leadership we would only accept total victory. I made that decision to ensure the survival of the NEA and to free the men and women you’ve forced into slavery. We founded this alliance on the belief that a man has the right to choose the course of his life as long as he doesn’t infringe on someone else’s sovereignty. The Directorate has been working to subjugate this country for more than a decade. I won’t let that continue.”

“That isn’t—”

“I’m not finished. Now, when General Martin and I spoke a week ago, I was prepared to order our military to take whatever measures necessary to remove you as a threat. John convinced me he could bring you in alive and keep you from causing any more damage to this country. That said, you need to understand there will be no treaty. If your forces refuse to surrender, we will take Cheyenne Mountain by force. If you can’t accept that, then I won’t let you remain a threat to my people.”

“So you’d have me killed?”

“We don’t kill our prisoners of war.”

“Then what? Are you going to lock me up and drug me?”

“As I understand it, that’s exactly how Colonel Webb was treated under your care. Is that correct, Colonel?”

“Yes,” Webb said. “It was unpleasant. It’s worth noting though, sir, General Park injected Ms. Bedford with a tranquilizer just before my arrival on site. It didn’t have any effect.”

Alex reached her hand up and rubbed at the side of her neck.

“You’re saying we can't sedate her?”

“I can knock her out but she’s developing a resistance to that as well.”

“What would you recommend?”

“A bullet.”

“Mr. President,” Martin said after giving Webb a chastising glare, “I’m sure none of that will be necessary. Alexandra understands the situation. She won’t be any trouble.”

“I’d like to hear that from her,” Resnick said.

“It’s not like I have a choice,” Alex said. “I can’t go anywhere and I can’t do anything as long as he’s around.”

“I’m not concerned about the next few hours or days,” Resnick said. “I want to know what will happen at the end of this war when the Directorate is gone. If we let you go, what’s to stop you from repeating Kansas City right here in Washington?”

“I’d never do that. I didn’t destroy Kansas City on purpose. I never wanted to kill all those people.”

“We lost two thousand of our men and women in that city. That isn’t something to be glossed over or brushed under the rug. You say you didn’t do it on purpose. So how did it happen?”

“I wasn’t—” She stopped herself midsentence. She had been about to claim she hadn’t been in control, that it had been Ellzey’s fault, that she hadn’t wanted to kill anyone. But that wasn’t true. “I let it happen at first. I couldn’t… I didn’t want to stop. Then I hurt someone on my team. I knew what I was doing but part of me wanted to keep going. I know I killed all those people. I know I destroyed Kansas City. I wish I could take it all back, but…”

“So would it be fair to say that you have limited control of your abilities?”

“Nothing like that ever happened before,” she said.

But it’s happened since… With Ellzey and then almost with Harrison. And it could have happened in Fort Riley, too.

“That isn’t what I’m asking.”

She felt like she was digging herself deeper into a hole – or more like a grave, she thought – each time she spoke. Martin gave her a reassuring nod before turning to Resnick. But before he could speak, the windows on the far side of the office shook in their frames. Then she heard the explosion.

Resnick stood and moved to the windows. A moment later, one of the office doors opened and a man wearing a black suit and tie rushed in. “Mr. President, we need to get to the shelter.”

“What’s happening?”

“We’re under attack.”

“By who?”

“Who else?” Webb had left Martin’s side and was now standing at the windows next to Resnick, looking up at the sky.

“Mr. President,” the guard insisted.

Resnick stared at Alex and then looked at Webb. “Can you keep her under control, Colonel?”

“Yes, sir. I can take her somewhere secure.”

“No,” Resnick said. “Bring her with us. I won’t risk her getting loose. Let’s go.”