Written in Stone

Written In Stone

By Krystyna Freda

Copyright 2016 Krystyna Freda

Smashworks Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is dedicated to all the friends, family, and strangers who helped push me through to finish the book. Without you, I would have never had the physical, mental, or emotional strength to finish. This is for you.

Table of Contents

Prologue

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

XI

XII

XIII

XIV

XV

XVI

XVII

Prologue

I ran through the dark hallways barely able to see what was right in front of me. My left ear was ringing from the blast, sending pulsing waves through my head. The hallway was lined with doors and as I ran by each new door, I tried to open it. I hoped that each new door I came to would be a portal to my escape. However, no matter how hard I pulled and kicked, I could not get any of them to open. I could hear voices getting closer and knew that I had to keep moving. I could tell they had gotten inside. My breathing became short and my chest started to get heavy. My legs seemed as though they gained a hundred pounds, but I had to keep going. I could not let them get me. I reached the end of the hall and turned left into another corridor that looked exactly as the one I had just left. For all I knew I could be going through the same few hallways over and over again. I stopped and thought for a second. I knew there had to be an outlet in one of these hallways. After all, I came in through somewhere. I continued to check all the doors as I passed, just as I had with the hallway before. I could hear them behind me more clearly now. I could hear footsteps and mumbled talking that were getting closer. I knew had to find somewhere to hide soon or else they would get me too.

I approached a door on the left side of the hall that seemed to have a light on inside. I rushed to it and grabbed the handle, turning as though I was trying to break it. It opened, and I quickly moved inside. It was a bedroom with a queen size bed, a dresser, and a desk. There was a closet to the right of the door that I quickly jumped inside of. I shut the door behind me, and I waited. I heard the footsteps getting closer. My breathing began to get heavier, and I could feel the blood pumping harder as my adrenaline increased. I heard them come down the hallway, and I hoped that they would keep walking right past the room. It seemed as though my luck had run out that day.

The door creaked open, and I had to clasp my hand over my mouth to muffle my breathing. I could feel my blood starting to pump harder in my veins as my skin began to get hot. I tried to keep calm, but just as I started to think that maybe they kept moving down the hall, I heard footsteps walking through the room. They moved across the room and checked in the bathroom, and then under bed. I heard them making their way slowly towards the closet. I looked into the darkness around me and traced the wall with my hands. I moved them under old shirts that were dangling from hangers and I felt a panel in the wall. I quickly pried it open to find a small opening in the wall. I immediately jumped in, pulled the panel shut behind me, and held the door closed as tight as I could.

I heard the closet door open, and I held my breath. I was hoping that the darkness of the closet would provide enough cover so that they could not see the panel behind the old shirts that were hanging in front of it. It seemed like minutes, but I’m sure it was only seconds, before the person deemed that the closet did not have anyone in it, and turned around. I heard the footsteps briskly walk out of the room, and I let out a sigh of relief. I let go of the panel door and my hands were shaking. I tried to steady them while waiting and listening, making sure that all the footsteps were gone before I made my way out of the panel, out of the closet, and back into the hallway. I decided to go the opposite way that the footsteps had taken and head back towards the way I came.

I made my way back through the hallways, twisting and turning when I arrived at a large archway. I walked through the archway into a room that must have been a glorious ballroom once upon a time. It had a huge hanging chandelier in the center of the ceiling that was covered in dust and cobwebs. There were some tables and chairs pushed up against the wall and at the other end of the room was what looked like a stage. Just then, I noticed a door with a red exit sign above it just to the left of the stage. I took off running, trying to be as quiet as possible. As I neared the door, I thought I heard something back at the archway and I froze in my tracks. I stopped running. I became paralyzed. I was too afraid to turn around, but also too afraid to move forward. I heard footsteps moving towards me. They had a quick step and seemed to be gaining on me fast. Just before the steps reached me, I made an impulse decision to turn around. My mouth gaped. It could not be...

I

One drop of blood. That was all took to gain access to the most important building in the United States of America: The White House. As I walked through the door, I put my left hand on a black podium that sent a tiny needle into my index finger and drew a small amount of blood. The monitor behind the security desk beeped, displaying a green check mark next to my name. A security guard confirmed the mug shot type picture of me as well as all of my personal information. After I was signaled all clear by the guard, I walked through the gate, pushing it open gently with my hand. I turned and glanced at the screen. It had a picture of a much too skinny girl with long blonde hair and dark, hazel eyes. I looked at the guard and smiled. He returned the gesture, and I continued down the hall.

I strolled down the hall methodically, smiling at all the faces I saw every day. Almost everyone was dressed in black. On most days, it looked like the office was filled with drones that were all performing tasks in matching uniforms. To be honest, it could be very mundane at times. However, I knew almost all the people in the building by either their first or last name, and could probably tell you at least one thing about them: who was married, who was divorced, who had children, who did not, who was gay, who hated their job, and so on. Although I worked in the White House, we still had the drama and gossip of a typical work environment.

I kept moving down the familiar hallway and glanced around the walls. They were covered with portraits of the past Presidents and people who played an important role in American history. All the portraits of famous people and places were spaced perfectly from each other. This clean, neat style continued throughout all the hallways and spread throughout the entire White House. There were people rushing around and chatting about what they had done the night before, or what they have planned for that coming day. Lastly, there was the constant ringing of phones that sounded like a song playing over and over again. It was a very reliable job, which is what I may have enjoyed the most about it. I could always rely on the podium showing my picture along with a green check mark. I could always rely on the Press Secretary, Aggy Carvez, waving at me as I walked by his office. But, best of all, I could always rely on the big wooden desk with my nameplate on it. The location of my desk was in one of the most important areas of the White House. That was because I am Noelle Stone, personal assistant to the President of the United States.

I sat down at my desk and slipped off my black heels, tucking them under the chair as I always did when I sat down to work. Although heels were not exactly my ideal choice for footwear, they were a part of the dress code. Thankfully I was able to find a pair of Steve Madden heels that were comfortable enough for me to wear everyday, or else I probably would not have been able to survive. I tried wearing flats every now and then, but they just did not look right on me.

My typical workday outfit consisted of me wearing my Steve Maddens, a pencil skirt, and a nice blouse under a blazer. I usually blended in with the drones and ended up wearing all black. Today, however, I wore a black skirt with a teal long sleeve button-down shirt that had one button undone. But, I had to top off with my favorite blazer, which was also black. My favorite piece of my outfit was the locket around my neck that was given to me by my girlfriend for our last anniversary. Her name was Victoria, and she was the love of my life. It was a silver locket with a picture of the two of us inside. The locket was different than most. Behind the picture was a secret compartment, which was big enough to fit a small item inside. I used to keep my memory card for my articles in college behind it because I would always lose the memory card, so it worked out nicely.

I gazed down at my perfectly organized desk and a slight smile came across my face. It definitely showed off my love for organization. This love of organizing and planning was a huge factor that made being an assistant a perfect job for me. I was able to organize a ton of government functions and meetings, as well as finalize every detail of any event that the President was involved in. On the left side of my desk was a graduation certificate from Harvard University where I received my law degree. Next to that was my high tech collection of office supplies, which included my automatic stapler, my computer, and my desk phone. One of the many benefits about being the assistant to the President was that I had the best technological devices at my disposal. On the other side of my computer was an elephant statue my best friend Grace gave me for my birthday last month. It was a 5-inch tall wooden elephant with the truck up, which is a sign of good luck. I had always loved elephants and one drunken college night let Grace convince me to get a small tattoo of one on my ankle that Aggy from Press never forgot to compliment.

My silver nameplate sat on the middle of my desk facing outward so that whoever entered the office can see it. It was quite an amazing feeling of accomplishment when I walked into the office on my first day and saw it sitting there. That feeling made me feel as though my time Harvard graduate school was worth it. My family was very upset when I decided not to take one of the jobs I was offered from various prestigious law firms after I graduated from Harvard. Honestly, the only reason that I even attended Harvard was so that it would make them happy. I was basically forced to go there by my parents because they made it clear that if I did not pursue a law degree from Harvard, they would not pay for my education.

I came from a wealthy family out of Palo Alto, California, and they definitely gave me no leniency. My older brother and sister were both Harvard Law graduates too, as well as both of my parents. They believed if I did not graduate from Harvard that I would be a shame to the family. However, the real problem for them was that I would have put too big of a stain on their ability to brag to their country club friends about all their Harvard Law children. I chose not to join a law firm after graduation because I realized after only one semester into my imprisonment at Harvard that I hated law. However, it did help me realize that I had a huge love of politics. I decided to stick it out and once I graduated, I could go a different route. I just needed to get free from my parents’ controlling grasp on my life. But then again, a Law degree from Harvard could not hurt since I wanted to get a job in politics.

After graduation I decided to move to Washington, D.C. I was going to pursue my dream of working in politics, but I was not really sure what I was going to do. I had no plan, but packed up, moved, and got an apartment. I was fortunate enough to be able to land job as an advisor for a senator. After years of hard work, a lot of networking, and quite a bit of flirting, I was able to climb up the ladder, and that is how I got my job in the White House. I know most people who have studied law would never dream of settling into an assistant position, even if it was for the President. But it was an opportunity that I could not pass up.

I had been with the President for almost two years, and he was entering the last year of his presidency. If I could have gone back in time, I would not have changed my decision. I had been able to be a part of some big projects through my job and, after working so closely with him, the President and I had built a pretty strong relationship. He would often ask my opinion whenever he needed, or wanted it. We had a perfect balance between professional and social, which was nice considering that most of the time I had to be the bearer of bad news when something did not go his way. At first it was a little awkward, telling the President, no, about some things, but he was kind and never yelled.

The last item on my desk was the one of most importance to me. It was a picture of Victoria and me on our trip to California last summer to celebrate our eight-year anniversary. We were both smiling and sunburnt, posing in front of the sign on Rodeo Drive. Although we clearly did not belong there, we made it into an amazing time. We went to visit our longtime friend Devin in San Francisco and her partner, Amelia, who was pregnant at the time. We were so happy for them and that afternoon when Victoria and I went for a walk on the beach she told me that she wanted children. I was ecstatic. She had always been against the idea of small children, but the sight of people close to us being so happy about having someone they could call their own had really gotten to her.

Suddenly my phone began to ring, snapping me out of my daydream. I looked at the phone for a second waiting for the caller ID to appear and saw that it was the Vice President.

Morning, Branson.

Good morning, Noelle. He sounded tired.

His ex-wife recently received full custody of their children and took the two children and moved to Pennsylvania to be closer to her parents.

I was wondering if you could cancel the President’s 2 o’clock meeting with the CIA Director, he asked me. The Chinese ambassador has an emergency and is going back to Hong Kong in the morning and we need to meet with him before he leaves.

Okay, just give me one second.

I turned on my computer monitor and pulled up the President’s calendar.

All right sir, I can move the CIA Director to tomorrow at noon. Does that work?

Yes Noelle, thank you.

No problem, sir. I will give him a call and let him know.

Thanks Noelle. How was your weekend? Did you and Victoria do anything special?

Not anything too special. We went down and visited her parents in South Carolina. Did Joanna bring the kids up this weekend?

Yes she did. I took them to the park and the zoo. Tatiana was so excited to see the zebras. She loves them.

That is precious. You have to tell them I say hello next time you see them.

Of course I will, Noelle. I will give you a call later and we can go over the details of the gala next month.

Sounds good. I will inform the President about the schedule change.

Perfect, Noelle. Thank you.

No problem at all, sir.

I put down the phone and noted some final changes in the schedule. I opened up my email and typed one to the President:

Mr. President,

The meeting with the CIA Director has been moved to tomorrow at noon, and you will be meeting with the Chinese Ambassador today instead. I will be bringing in your coffee and bagel in a few minutes and I will pick up the gala paperwork. Please make sure that you sign the forms so I can submit them today. Thanks.

Noelle Stone

Personal Assistant of President Smith

I slipped my heels back on and headed to the break room to make some coffee. It was a very clean kitchen area with a couple of cabinets, a refrigerator, and a microwave. I reached into the cabinet for two mugs and checked to make sure there was coffee in the coffee pots. I poured caffeinated coffee into one cup and decaf into the other one. In the cup with the decaf coffee I added two packets of sugar and a tiny bit of organic milk. I reached into another cabinet and grabbed a bag of bagels. I searched for an onion bagel, cut it in half, and popped it into the toaster. While waiting for the bagel to cook, I reached into the fridge and grabbed the container of cream cheese. When the toaster popped I carefully spread it on the bagel while I tried to think through everything that I needed to get done that day. The gala I was in charge of planning was coming up fast, and I had to make sure that everything was in place. It was the first event that I was planning by myself and I was extremely nervous.

Carrying the two mugs of coffee in one hand and the plate with the bagel in the other, I made my way back to my office. I placed the caffeinated coffee on my desk and then sauntered over the door of the Oval Office where I made three sharp knocks on the door. I heard a disgruntled come in from inside and opened the door slowly to see the President standing behind his desk looking out of the window.

He