Inside the Pentagon's conference room, Carol sat in one of the peripheral seats. This room was filled with power players—heads of key federal agencies and departments. If not for her being the agent most familiar with both the Secret Service and the White House after Martin, she likely wouldn't even have been here.
Her expression was oddly tense. Roughly half an hour ago, she had received a phone call—from President David Palmer himself. Only then did she learn that the president had long since escaped and had been under CTU's rapid response team's protection the entire time. His absence was deliberate—a tactic to lure out the traitor.
This revelation changed Carol's entire perspective. No longer solely focused on rescuing the president, she began studying everyone's expressions, trying to identify the venomous snake hiding among them.
Yes, President Palmer had explicitly told her: there was a traitor at the top levels of the cabinet. Shocking at first, but the more she thought about it, the more sense it made.
Technically, the vice president was the most obvious suspect—after all, succession was constitutionally guaranteed if the president were incapacitated. But that alone wasn't enough. The vice president already held immense power. Why would he risk everything on such a gamble?
Carol racked her brain, mentally reviewing face after face, methodically eliminating possibilities.
Suddenly, the conference room doors slammed open. A Black military officer, flanked by several escorts and carrying a metal case, strode in with purpose.
The meeting was forced to a halt as all eyes turned to the officer. Vice President Lafferson looked displeased, clearly expecting a damn good explanation for this abrupt intrusion.
The officer ignored the hostile stares and approached Lafferson directly, speaking with measured urgency: "Mr. Vice President, due to the president's unknown status and under the provisions of the 25th Amendment, both chambers of Congress have conducted an emergency vote. The vote has passed. I am here to formally notify you that we require your immediate swearing-in as President of the United States."
"W-what?"
Lafferson looked stunned, while the rest of the room reacted with a mix of surprise and resignation. It was unexpected, but also, in a way, inevitable.
"According to the 25th Amendment," the officer continued, "if the president is incapacitated, deceased, or otherwise unfit to serve, the vice president shall assume the presidency. The vote has passed with over two-thirds support. We must proceed immediately with the swearing-in ceremony."
The officer was all business. Without waiting for a response, he produced a copy of the Constitution and began preparations.
Lafferson, after a long moment of shock, stepped hesitantly up to the podium under everyone's watchful gaze. He followed the officer's prompts: placing his hand on the Constitution, raising his right hand, reciting the oath, then submitting fingerprints and authorizing updates to the nuclear codes in the nuclear football.
In mere minutes, the transition of power in the world's most powerful nation was complete.
"Sir, this is the latest nuclear launch code. Please keep it with you at all times," said one of the officers holding the briefcase, handing over a secure codebook.
Lafferson was now officially president, the de facto leader of the United States. Applause broke out around the room. Carol, however, remained uneasy. She knew Palmer was alive and somewhere nearby. In that light, everything that had just happened seemed like a tragic farce. She couldn't imagine how Lafferson would react if President Palmer suddenly reappeared.
The ceremony concluded quickly. The crisis wasn't over, and now Lafferson had to continue making decisions—but this time, as the Commander-in-Chief.
…
Ten minutes after the new president took office
"What? Did you just say bomb the White House?"
Carol couldn't believe her ears. Lafferson's very first order as president was to authorize an airstrike on the White House.
And it wasn't just Carol—nearly everyone in the room had the same stunned reaction, even the military officers. The White House wasn't just a building; it was the symbol of America itself. Now the president wanted to destroy it?
"This concerns the Cybostan codes," Lafferson explained curtly. "I regret it deeply, but I must do this—for national security."
He gave a brief explanation of the Cybostan codes, a term most in the room had never heard before. It was one of the highest-level military secrets in the country.
When they realized there was a real possibility that a nuclear weapon might detonate on American soil, the room fell into dead silence. Everyone was thinking the same thing: The Secretary of Defense was already a hostage—what if President Palmer had also been captured? More specifically, what if the terrorists had obtained Palmer's half of the Cybostan codes?
The implications were terrifying. In that light, bombing the White House didn't seem quite so unthinkable.
At the closest U.S. Air Force base to Washington, three F-22 Raptor fighter jets scrambled into the sky under orders from command. With their speed, it would take only ten minutes to reach the White House and commence the strike.
When the Air Force general confirmed the launch, time seemed to slow inside the conference room. In ten minutes, America's most iconic building would be reduced to rubble—and everyone here had witnessed the decision unfold.
"I'll go down in history as a criminal…"
President Lafferson muttered to himself. His eyes showed a trace of regret, but his resolve remained firm.
"You're doing what you must…"
"This is for the good of America…"
"People will understand…"
"You're a hero—bearing a burden no other American could…"
Supportive voices rose around him. Under their encouragement, Lafferson's eyes regained their clarity.
Carol watched him with a complicated expression. She still wasn't sure if Lafferson was the "snake" Palmer had warned her about. If he was, then this move made sense—bombing the White House to destroy evidence and eliminate witnesses. If he wasn't, then it was a grim but defensible decision under the circumstances.
But either way, she couldn't allow it to happen. Not when Palmer was alive and well. She discreetly called him.
"Mr. President, Lafferson has been sworn in. His first order was to bomb the White House…"
"I see."
"But… sir, the White House…"
Carol hesitated. She didn't quite understand Palmer's attitude. Would he really allow the White House to be bombed just to expose the traitor? Wasn't the cost too high?
"Don't worry, Agent Carol. I've arrived!"
She froze. Arrived? What did that mean?
Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside the conference room. Moments later, the doors slammed open.
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