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Nothing could be further from the truth. [Cramp entry.] |
Nothing could be further from the truth. Riley stared at his boss, not quite believing what he was being accused of. This had to be a joke, and maybe Matt was trying to pull a fast one on him, and the other officers were all watching Riley from a hidden camera somewhere. But Matt looked perfectly serious, tapping his pencil on the desk in an erratic rhythm that sounded like Morse code. The tapping only had the effect of unnerving Riley even more. "Riley?" Matt's eyebrows were raised. "Answer the question." Riley was still stunned, trying to let the accusatory words sink in, but it all still didn't make an ounce of sense to him. He tried to recap his actions, his words, his damn body language over the past few weeks. Sure, on hindsight, maybe he had been a little too aloof with her, maybe a tad too unfriendly at times. But it had all been for her protection. And his too, if he wanted to admit it. If anyone found out his secret, he could very well kiss goodbye to this career, and no other government agency worth its salt would take him in. Riley closed his eyes. If the Secret Service had taught him anything, it was to lie, and lie well. "No, sir," Riley said, looking straight into his boss's eyes. "The answer is no." Here Matt took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair with a contemplative air. Riley was trained to read body language the way academics were trained to read dusty old texts, and from all the signs, he knew Matt wasn't buying it. His boss's eyes were clouded with doubt, and there were brackets on the sides of his mouth, indicating his unhappiness. Riley decided that distraction was the best choice. "Has a complaint been filed?" he asked, startling Matt out of his thoughts. His boss shook his head. "Not an official one, but she's unhappy, I can tell you that. She asked me specifically about you." Matt sighed as he flipped through the brown classified folder on his desk. "And let me just say that they seldom ask about specific officers." Despite the apprehensive nature of his circumstances - and the fact that Riley could lose his job at any second - his heart jumped at the thought that she had been asking about him. "Is she really that unhappy? She wants me out?" Here, Matt seemed stumped for the first time. "I really can't say." There was an edge to his voice that Riley had not noticed before, and that unspoken tone was more unnerving than everything else that Matt had said to him today. "Anyway, Riley, you're dismissed for now. I took you off the next three shifts while we investigate the matter." Riley's jaw clenched. He had not seen her all week, and just as he was about to in his next shift, it was to be taken away from him, possibly for good. "Yes, sir." As they stood up, Matt caught him just before Riley reached for the door. "I'll ask you one more time. Just between us, off the record," Matt said earnestly. "You honestly don't have any issues guarding a female President?" "Come on, sir," Riley said. "I guarded Obama for four years, how can I possibly be some kind of sexist bigot?" Matt's grip on his arm loosened. "If you say so, then." As Riley stepped out of the office, he was greeted by a row of 42-inch plasma screens, all showing an array of news channels. His eyes flitted over the BBC and FOX news ones, before settling on the CNN screen that was currently showing footage of the President landing at Camp David and stepping out of her chopper, waving to the crowd with a beaming smile. Riley traced the edges of that beautiful smile on the screen, ignoring the strange stares of Matt's receptionist. As he walked off, the conversation continued to replay itself over and over in his head. Riley, do you have a problem with having a female President in power? Riley could only smile as he strode down the corridor, already reaching for his cigarettes. My problem is much bigger than that. |