Futile Devices – Chapter XVII

Goodness hides behind its gates

But even the President of the United States

Sometimes must have

To stand naked.

Fitz leaned against the Resolute Desk, arms folded and head down, as the old remembered lyrics from his lonely teenage past swirled around his mind; Dylan's haunting grated voice stuck on repeat.

Olivia knew. She knew what he did and she stayed.

But now even the commitment of her love, nor the history and influence of the round room he stood in could take away the feeling that he was alone and unarmoured, waiting in the quiet for the storm to hit.

It was inevitable, he thought. Everything that had happened had led him to this moment. But now it was time to face it head on, because even if he fell, at least he would fall as the man he wanted to be.

He would prove he was much more than his father's son.

His stomach sank low and he took in a fortifying breath, when the side door of the office began to open with a soft click.

The storm had arrived.

Fitz stood up from the desk and unfolded his arms, clenching his hands by his sides as Rowan strode casually into the oval room, closed the door behind him then stood firmly on the other side of the room, eyeing him up and down.

"It's been a long time…" Rowan broke the tense silence; a vague smile perched on the corner of his lips.

"Not long enough." Fitz responded, his voice low.

Rowan popped up an eyebrow. "You're not happy to see me?"

Fitz's thoughts passed back to the first time he faced him, back in the dark office in Annapolis. "Happy is not a word I would ever associate with you."

"Only my progeny." Rowan put in quickly with a short smile then stepped further into the room, having a casual look around.

"Olivia's not here." Fitz frowned.

"Oh, I know." He brushed off as he sat down comfortably on one of the couches and slipped his feet onto the coffee table. "She left the White House 7 minutes ago. Headed back to her office to protect her little band of strays. What does she call them? Gladiators? Interesting choice of name, don't you think? Not Soldiers or Knights or Samurai – but slaves that were forced to fight for freedom, money, and entertainment."

Fitz eyed him carefully from his position in front of the desk. "What do you fight for?"

Rowan turned to him in surprise. "I do not fight. I play. And I win." He put his feet down and sat up in the couch. "Which is why it interests me that you and my daughter seem to think you can just get away with ignoring the rules of the game." He stood up from the couch and approached him slowly. "You know who I am, don't you? You know what I can do. Don't you?" He stared at him condescendingly, waiting for an answer.

"I do." Fitz replied begrudgingly.

"Of course you do." He smiled. "And so does Olivia. So when I tell you to stop seeing each other, you stop seeing each other. That's it. I have no more patience for humouring your little fling." He ordered with finality then turned and began to head back towards the side door.

But Fitz wasn't just going to let him win.

"I know about Iran." He spoke out, stopping Rowan in his tracks. He glanced over his shoulder, giving him a curious look.

"It's good to see the leader of the free world knows about the Middle Eastern nations, but I fail to see your point." Rowan bluffed.

"I know you ordered the bombing in Jerusalem." Fitz began to walk towards Rowan. "I know you framed Hezbollah, I know you want to start a war between Iran and Israel, I know you want the US to attack Iran."

Rowan stood in silence for a moment, his eyes flicking back and forth across Fitz's face, calculating and judging.

"So?" He finally replied, coolly.

"So…why?" Fitz slunk his hands into his pockets as he laid his first bait out. "Why do you want the United States to attack Iran? For oil?"

Rowan sharpened his gaze, studying him closely. "Oil is transient." He replied with a monotone voice.

"To protect Israel then?" Fitz tried again.

"Israel?" Rowan's brow shot up in amusement then slowly walked back to Fitz. "Israel is nothing. It's a barren waste of old rocks and older grudges. It's a money tree for Congress."

"Then why?"

"Why on earth do you think I would tell you?"

"Because you're stopping me from seeing Olivia because you think she'll make me interfere with your plans." Fitz carefully tried to lure him in. "But if I agree to go along with your plans anyway, then I can see Olivia."

"Careful boy." Rowan warned with a frown. "You're not as smart as you think you are."

"But I am that desperate to stay with your daughter."

He stared him down, no longer taking the bait. "So you think I'm just going to cut a deal with you?" He questioned smugly. "You work with my plans, you get my permission to screw Olivia? Problem is, you will always work with my plans. Because I will make you, no matter if you agree to the terms or not. So let me make this incredibly, immaculately clear for your naïve, thick head: You do what I say. You go where I say you go. And you do not. See. Olivia."

The corner of Fitz's lip turned up into a wry smile. "All this sound and fury about your grand plans for this grand nation… but when it comes down to the truth of it, you're just a normal dad, who doesn't like the boy who's taking his daughter to the prom. You're not some powerful puppet master, you're just… petty."

"You call me petty?" Rowan murmured in disgust. "You, who throws bigger tantrums than a spoilt fat child when your mistress is simply seen talking to another man?"

"At least I don't spend my life tying to destroy my own daughter." Fitz growled.

"I made her!" Rowan barked. "She's mine! Everything she is, is because of me. So don't expect me to sit around and just watch as you corrupt her with your weak whispers of love. You are no where near worthy of her."

"Oh, I know I'm not." Fitz agreed calmly. "But neither are you. So why don't we stop this little pissing competition and let Olivia make her own decision. Because I seem to distinctly remember, only ten minutes ago, despite knowing exactly who you are and exactly what you can do… she chose me. She chose to stop you. So I will do everything in my power to help her."

Rowan broke out in a deep laugh. "Poor little rich boy thinks he has power."

"I am the President of the United States. I have Executive Pow-"

"You have nothing!" Rowan snapped, his face suddenly dark and seething. "You smile and speak and sign and shake hands and pardon turkeys, but I am the one that keeps this great nation on course. I am the one with the power."

"And yet you use this power not for the good of the nation, but for your personal pride." Fitz looked down at him with contempt. "Starting a war to make up for failed assassination attempt."

"You think I do this for me?" Rowan snarled back in disbelief. "For my pride? Everything I do, everything I have ever done has been for the sake of the glory of the Republic!"

"So starting a war and sending our soldiers to kill innocent civilians in foreign lands sounds 'glorified' to you? We should be the policemen of the world, not the assailants!"

Rowan's eyes opened in amazement. "You truly are that naïve. How do you think this nation rose to become the most powerful in the world? How? Our constitution? Our wide fertile land? American excellence? No! It was two world wars. Two world wars that decimated the old world, and from their ashes we grew to be more powerful than anyone could have predicted. The United States feeds on blood. It runs through our history and pulls us forward into the future."

"So you want Iran for their 'blood'?" Fitz interrupted with anger.

"Iran?" Rowan exclaimed. "I don't care about Iran! What sort of junior level game do you think I'm playing, boy? It's Russia I want. The Cold War never ended, it just got covered up with a few blankets. But now those layers are falling off, and Russia has been making a few too many friends with countries that have made us enemies. The laws of politics say that if one nation gains too much power, it is inevitable that smaller nations will band together to form an equal and opposite power. If Russia completes it banding with Iran, they will grow their nuclear arsenal, but they will also gain control of the Strait of Hormuz. So not only will Russia control all of Europe's gas, but 30% of the world's oil. And all of a sudden they are not poor joke of a failed state – they have the world hostage."

"Other countries' successes do not mean our failure." Fitz bristled.

"Not until they start moving into other lands they always thought were theirs." Rowan said darkly. "Not until they force us to look at our NATO agreements where a far distant patch of grass like Estonia is considered United States land if any Russian army steps into it. I am not starting a war in Iranfor myself. I am doing it because a conflict in the old, dusty chaos of the Middle East, that is supported by the majority of the world, will cripple Russia's growth and will shift their focus off from their tempting eastern borders. I'm doing it to stop a nuclear war."

"I thought you said we fed off war." Fitz growled.

"Not the ones that turn the world to cinders."

Fitz glared at him as they stood only a foot apart in silent battle. "Don't tell me you're trying to save the world by attacking a country full of innocent civilians. I do not sign up to your doctrine that blood stops blood, and I will not let you use my country as a pawn. This is the United States of America. Our history is violent, our past full of ghosts we would rather forget. But we do not forget; we learn. We grow. We reach for the better angels of our nature. That is what it means to be American – to strive to be better. So if you say the Cold War never thawed, then so be it. But we will not follow the same path we have gone down before, and we will not take violence as a pre-emptive quick fix – because in case you haven't noticed, the world is not some life sized game of Risk where you shuffle plastic pieces and raise pointless empires. The world is full of people. People who love, who hate, who cry and feel and laugh and have family and friends and dreams and failures as we have. People do not want war. They want peace and stability. They want a chance at living. So if you offer them life over war, they will take it."

"You may as well sign the downfall of the Republic right now." Rowan glowered.

"I'd rather be a unimportant corner of a map than ruler of a pile of ashes." Fitz lifted his chin proudly.

"You can be whatever you want, boy, but you're not going to stop me." His mouth twisted into a smile.

"You're forgetting I am Commander in Chief." Fitz shot back confidently.

"You're forgetting I can kill you." Rowan replied darkly.

Fitz stared at Rowan, studying his serious eyes. This was no bluff. "You kill me…" He started carefully. "You kill me or even think of touching Olivia, I'm going to release everything about your little plan, and everything I know about B613 out into the world. Where will the stability of the Republic be then, when they know the truth?"

Rowan's eyes flashed with something akin to impression. "It seems we are at an impasse then."

"It seems we are."

Rowan flick his gaze up and down Fitz. "Shame you have little chance of re-election."

"I'm a better fighter than you think."

"We shall see…"

"You play any games with the election though, the truth comes out too." Fitz warned.

Rowan just smiled. "I think the players are strong enough without me. But it is good to know how much you value your own life… and that of Olivia."

He looked Fitz over once more then finally turned and walked slowly to the side door, when he stopped for a moment and turned around.

"You may feel like you have earned a small victory, boy, like you've proved your station and your worth. But I have looked over you life and learned about your past, and the one thing I know about you, is that whatever happens, you are a loser. You always have been, and you always will be. And no lucky charm of my daughter is going to change that."

Without another word, Rowan opened the door and disappeared from the Oval Office with a sharp slam.

Fitz collapsed back onto the desk, Rowan's words echoing through his mind like knives. He shook his head to get rid of them and gripped the sides of the wooden desk with his hands.

He may be a loser, but at least now he knew what he had to lose. Now he had a reason to not give up.

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NB: Way hey hey!

Can you say EXPOSITION? I'm sorry but this chapter hurt my brain so now I feel like lying down and having a coma for I dunno like 15 days. Ok? Ok.

Ah yeah so sorry about the long ass talking chapter about big things but I just needed to get it all out there so now Olivia and Fitz can fight this fight against Rowan on the stage of re-election campaign! So think of this as the bells before the round of boxing. The long, long, boring bells.

Anywho it's good to be back and I hope you thought the chapter was ok, so please accept this giant hug from me to you.

Now, to resurrect my burnt out carcass of a brain please review and tell me what you think! Thanks so much!