Presidents Daughter and the Secret Service (closed)

[bjhass]

Geoff Turner, age 22, adjusted his tie and glanced over his suit one last time. The suit was simple and had been designed to blend in, but even so it highlighted his dark brown hair and grey-green eyes. The muscles on his 6'2" frame were coiled beneath the fabric like a tightly wound spring.

Most people would have been nervous on their first day on the job, but Geoff wasn't most people. And his training over the past couple of years had prepared him physically, mentally and emotionally for this. He looked at it the same way he looked at everything in his life; as a challenge, a competition, an opportunity to excel.

He walked confidently into the office, stopped in front of the desk. Snapping to attention, he saluted the older man behind the desk.

"Special agent Turner reporting ..." he began.

"Relax kid." The older man cut him off. "Training is over. This is the real world and we don't have time around here for all those formalities."

The older man reached into a desk drawer and withdrew a manila envelope.

"Here'so your first assignment." He said, handing over the envelope. "Don't screw it up."

Geoff took the assignment and walked down the hall to his new office. Located somewhere in the laborynthian underbelly of the white house, the office was small and sparsely furnished. Sitting down, Geoff opened the envelope and dumped two folders onto his desk, one labeled "assignment", the other "person of interest".

At first the assignment seemed too easy. Escort the person of interest on a two week long tour of several colleges. The more experienced members of his team would remain behind the scenes to handle issues like logistics and route planning. Geoff would be the primary escort.

But then he read about the person of interest. Is this a joke? He wondered. Am I being hazed? The 'person of interest' was an 18 year high school senior touring potential universities. The only thing that separated her from any other prospective co-ed was the fact that her dad just happened to be the president.

Do I really have to spend two weeks babysitting? He thought as he tried to remember anything about the first daughter. He had only seen her on a couple of political ads where the ultra religious president had used his family as political fodder. If he remembered correctly she was pretty enough, but if she was anything like her dad she was probably a prude. Not that he would ever actually touch her, even if she gave him the opportunity. That would be a death sentence for his career.

"You'd better hurry up." Geoff's new boss called from the hall, interrupting his musings. "She's leaving soon. Don't worry about packing, we've already stocked the safe houses."

Grabbing his gun, Geoff hurried out of his office to go meet the person of interest.

 

[CarnivalBarker]

The girl sat in her study in the upstairs East Wing of the White House, and patiently listened to the questions, genuinely trying to provide answers, as the reporter on the other end of the line read them to her. The reporter was a fourteen year old girl from one of the local charter schools who was doing a feature story on the high school senior, and the topics largely focused on her recent announcement that she would be deciding what college she would attend in the coming weeks. While she hated any interviews, she particularly hated what she considered "charity cases," designed and requested by her mother for the sole purpose of making the first family look to be without chaos. This was a charity case. At the same time, she knew why it was necessary. And, for the most part, things like this made the regular media paint the picture of her as the good little girl the family insisted upon.

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"Well thank you!" she told the girl reporter, sounding completely sincere while bulging out her eyes and mimicking the act of shooting herself in the head. "Well I hope your story goes well for you too." She rolled her eyes now and desperately sought to conclude the call. "Sure....I am happy to do any follow up you might need after I decide. Okay....thank you again. Goodbye." She put the phone down and sat silently for a moment, wondering what boring shit she would be assigned to do next. She hesitated returning to the First Lady's office. She did not need another earful from her mother. For the press and media, she could put on a sweet persona and often did. For the most part, they ate it up, doing nice feature stories and painting her out to be a nice girl. But there had been leaks to the contrary in recent years.

President Michener had been elected three years earlier, which meant the coming calendar year would be an election year. While he had no opponent from his party, he didn't need missteps by himself or anyone around him. Katie got it. For the past two years, however, she had been a heavy subject of his administration, rare for a President's child, who usually got left alone. At sixteen, Jonathan Timmons, the de facto lead of the world's hottest boy band at the time, expressed his thoughts that Katie Michener, the newly elected President's daughter, was cute. Being like any adolescent whose father was the most powerful man in the free world, she asked him to invite the band to an event at the White House. It was there she met her crush and it was shortly after that he invited her to the MTV Video Music awards. Against his better judgment, the President said okay and the "date" became a media spectacle. Afterward, the family values lobby promptly criticized her low-cut dress, called her a dirty girl, and spread the rumor that she and Jonathan, or JT, had been kissing backstage. While the rumor was not entirely accurate - she had actually been caught by her detail making out with JT, who was already 18 and nearly 19, on a couch in a green room with his hand beneath her clothes and a marijuana joint in an ashtray nearby - she nevertheless became something of a lightning rod for her father's critics, a target of desire for sick men who put countdown clocks online for the date she would turn 18, and an "it girl," carrying the torch for fashionable young women across America and also being something of a part time target of east coast paparazzi.

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Now, two years later, scandal found her again. During a campaign event at Iowa State University with her family, she had been caught on an open mic nearby telling her mother she could not imagine ever going to school there, but that the boys there were hot. Middle American media took the comment as a spoiled little rich girl looking down on them and the public universities, while also once again branding her a dirty slut. Despite the President's spokesperson explaining that as his daughter she should be left alone, and reminding them that she was free to go to school where she wanted, the impact of the stupid story seemed to be a drag on her father's popularity rating. As a result, two days ago, her mother announced that her final choices for college included several public universities and that she would be touring them beginning over the coming weekend. The announcement came as news to Katie, who had long planned on going to Amherst in Illinois. She was set to leave tomorrow. She picked up the phone to the East Wing downstairs.

"Carla, I need to speak to my mother," Katie told the older woman who had been her mother's assistant for a decade and who had helped raise her.

"She's in a meeting, honey," the woman said.

"Well I don't give a shit," Katie said tersely. "March in there and get her out."

"Katie," the woman began. "You know I can't...." SLAM! Katie hung up and immediately stood to head there herself. She looked at the itinerary. The University of Texas. The University of Arizona. Southern Cal. Cal Berkeley. And the University of Wyoming. "Fucking Wyoming?! the girl said under her breath before slapping the paper down on the table before her. "This is bullshit." The public persona, the facade, was gone. She picked up the phone again.

"Daniel," she said to the family quarters assistant. "Have my bags downstairs in twenty minutes." She thought a moment. "Put them in my mother's conference room. Yes...just do it. I'll come get them. And have my detail meet me there." She hung up the phone again. She knew good and well if the assistant took her things packed for two weeks into the very conference room her mother was meeting in, her mother would no longer avoid the discussion that Katie wanted to have, out of embarrassment to her guests for the situation alone. The staff called this version of the girl "Dark Katie," because she was night and day different from the one in the media. And she was about to leave on a very dangerous road trip for the administration. She expected her mother and father to meet her demands, as she stormed downstairs to force her mother to the table.

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[bjhass]

Commercial airlines were way too risky and even if air force one wasn't booked for her father's travels it was much too conspicuous for this trip. Geoff took a moment to look over the innocuous looking rental cars that had been chosen for their convoy, two grey sedans with no armor or even tinted windows. Geoff would drive one, with Katie and all her luggage, and the other two agents would follow at a distance in case anything happened.

Since there was little actual risk on this mission, the primary concern for the president was the paparazzi. So the plan was to slip away and, as much as possible, blend in to the general populous. But having spoken with the other three agents, Geoff knew that if Katie was in one of her moods she could ruin even the best made plans in a heart beat. And it looked like she was in that mood. Apparently she had called for him to pick her up from the very same conference room that the first lady was using to meet with a bunch of dignitaries.

Great, not only do I have to play chauffeur for this brat, now I have to deal with the family drama too? Geoff thought as he headed up the steps into the east wing.

He entered just as an attendant was setting down a large pile of luggage in the middle of the room. The tension in the room was palpable, and the attendant had the defeated look of a whipped puppy dog on his face. The first lady's back was turned, but once she sensed his presence she turned on him.

"And just who do you think you are?" She demanded, her tone as sharp as the expression on her face.

But Geoff was not as easily cowed as the servant.

"Special Agent Turner from Miss Katie's detail, Ma'am." He replied promptly, his calm confidence matching the first lady's temper. At least now I know where the kid gets it from.

 

[CarnivalBarker]

Katie took her time heading to her room and then putting on a lightweight summer dress that mixed casual and professional, knowing that, after all, her mother's office, and really the entire White House, was still a place of serious work. And having no idea who the people were in her mother's office, or whether there would be media, she erred on the side of looking great, though her irritation made her want to simply throw on some sloppy jeans and a t-shirt and traipse around the house as she did when they lived in Georgetown years ago, before they were "the first family." She rolled her eyes at the thought. If people only knew how fucked up we are, she thought to herself. She grabbed her large purse, making sure it had all the things any teen might have for a road trip, including and especially her phone, she then made her way to her mother's office.

"Katie, you can't just...." Carla intoned as Katie walked right past her into the conference room where her mother stood, already engaged with what clearly was one of the Secret Service, the room otherwise filled with five or six other people, all who looked very self important and very perplexed.

"We cannot drive," Katie said, sparing any greeting of anyone in the room. Her mother turned from the Secret Service agent and toward her daughter, giving only a look as if to ask for more information. "It's a twenty-four hour drive to Austin. Daddy has a fortune in oil money and all the resources of the most powerful nation on Earth." She crossed her arms, drawing a clear line with her gestures. "And you want us to drive around for two weeks? I want a plane." Katie's mother approached her and took her by the arm, leading her back into the foyer, away from the people in the room. As she did, she gave Agent Turner a look and nodded her head to follow.

"Carla," the first lady said. "Will you make sure that Katie has everything she needs for her trip."

"What does that mean?" Katie asked, tersely.

"It means, that you are going to drive to Austin and you are going to visit the school. Frankly, I do not give a damn what you do while you are there, but you are not going to come into my office and make demands to me in front of the Ambassadors from England, Ireland, and Scotland, do you understand me?" Katie rolled her eyes, visibly.

"I said I want a plane," she replied. Her mother, ever more dignified in her role as first lady, turned to Carla. As she did, Katie noticed Agent Turner, looking him up and down casually, as if sizing him up. She had not seen him before and wondered why he was here.

"Carla," her mother instructed. "See if we can find one of our friends who will let Princess Michener use their plane once she gets to Austin for the rest of her college visits." She turned back to Katie, who hated the condescending tone that always came with her mother's referring to her as Princess. Katie's eyes narrowed a bit, wondering what her mother was about to say. "Until then, you will ride with Agent Turner in the detail you are provided to Austin. IF we can find you a plane, then we will let you know. And when you get back, your father and I are going to have a talk about how you are acting." Katie forced a smile, annoyed at her mother, though both wanting to celebrate her small victory and not wanting to invite her wrath any further. She leaned right and looked past her mother to the agent, not addressing the first lady at all.

"Get my things, and let's get on the road."