"Your idea is cleaner than Ashley’s. Fine. We scrap the old plan. We run with what Greevs just said. You two handle it together," Madeline ordered.
Ashley’s face went tight. She’d brought Ivan in hoping he’d stay in the backseat as her little idea guy. Now the smug French bastard was stealing the spotlight.
If this kept up, he’d keep climbing in Madeline’s eyes until he took her own job as head of PR.
Not fucking happening.
"I believe I can manage this alone," Ashley cut in, voice sharp. "I’ve been doing crisis PR for years. Experience beats a rookie any day."
Madeline just watched, clearly enjoying the sudden tension. Good. A little backstabbing kept her people sharp.
Then Ivan spoke up. "I actually agree with Ashley. She’s got way more experience than . Plus I’m already swamped handling The Deep’s new campaign. I don’t have the bandwidth to juggle both right now."
Truth was, he didn’t want the job. Everything he’d just pitched was word-for-word what Holander would say in the interview anyway. Vought would’ve gone that route with or without him.
His real play was still in motion, and it wasn’t a sure thing. It all depended on whether The Deep could reach the crash site in ti.
Right then the TV on the wall behind Madeline’s desk switched to live footage from the scene.
"We’re coming to you live from the shoreline near where Flight 37 went down. As you can see, plane debris is scattered across the water. Rescue crews have begun recovery operations, but so far no survivors have been found. It is now feared that everyone on board has perished..."
Suddenly Holander’s voice bood through the broadcast.
"They weren’t dood."
The Black reporter on the beach waved frantically at the caraman. "Let’s go live to Queen Maeve and Holander on site."
Back in the VP’s office, Ivan’s phone started buzzing in his pocket. He stood up. "Sorry, got to take this."
Madeline barely glanced away from the live feed, just gave a quick nod.
Out in the hallway, Ivan answered.
"Sir, I found what you wanted. But there’s a problem. There’s a little girl still alive. She’s in real bad shape, deep coma. Should I save her? She’s fading fast." The Deep’s head bobbed above the Atlantic waves, one arm holding the unconscious kid out of the water while he clutched the phone.
His voice was practically begging. He was terrified Ivan would tell him to drop her.
"Yeah, got it. Get her to shore. Don’t let anyone see you."
Ivan hung up.
Looks like Lady Luck finally decided to suck his dick today.
"I bet you never saw this coming, a survivor," Ivan muttered, face blank as he slipped the phone back into his pocket. "Can’t wait to see your face."
Holander’s approval ratings were fucking obscene right now. People treated him like an actual god. Vought couldn’t control him anymore, not really. Madeline wasn’t the only one who wanted to cut him down a few notches. Edgar did too.
Ivan walked back into the office just as Holander and Queen Maeve appeared on the TV.
Holander stood there looking crushed. "If North Arican Air Defense had called us the second those hijackers took the plane, we could’ve saved them. All one hundred and twenty-three passengers... the youngest was only six or seven years old..." He paused, voice cracking. "I’m sorry."
Holander looked too choked up to speak for a second. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to pull himself together. The acting was Oscar-level shit. Even Ivan had to admit the bastard was good.
Then his voice cracked, thick with fake tears. "The truth is this never had to happen. If they’d just let us into the military defense system, none of this would’ve occurred. That’s my solemn promise to every one of you."
The second he finished, both Madeline and Ashley whipped their heads toward Ivan on the couch.
No fucking way.
Holander had basically parroted Ivan’s exact words.
"Did you call him ahead of ti?" Madeline asked, frowning.
Ivan shook his head, cool as ice. "Pure coincidence. I never said any of that to him."
On screen, Holander turned to Queen Maeve. "Right, Maeve?"
Maeve forced a tight smile and nodded.
Holander kept rolling, voice getting louder, more fired up. "Go talk to your congressn. Tell them what you want. I believe they’ll listen to the people."
He pointed straight at the wreckage scattered along the shore, practically shouting now.
"We will work together! We will make sure this never happens again in our great country!"
Right then a loud, excited roar erupted from the crowd on the beach.
A flat piece of plane wreckage suddenly drifted in from the open sea. Rescue workers on the beach spotted a little girl clinging to it. What they couldn’t see was the school of fish silently pushing the debris from underneath.
The second the wreckage got close enough to shore, the fish slipped away and vanished into the dark water without a trace.
Holander never noticed.
"Oh my God, this is a miracle straight from the Lord himself!" the reporter blurted out, completely stunned.
Rescue divers jumped into the water, carefully lifted the girl off the debris, checked her airway and pulse, then thrust their thumbs up toward the crowd.
The beach exploded.
People scread, hands flying to their mouths, tears pouring down faces. A real miracle, right in front of them.
"Thank God! God bless that little girl!"
Nobody noticed Holander’s face twist from shock to raw fear... until a faint red glow started burning in his eyes.
"Beautiful," Ivan muttered from the couch, watching every delicious shift in Holander’s expression. "Fucking beautiful."
___
[]~(￣▽￣)~*
Read 12 Advance Chapters—P@t- Captain69
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