Chapter Text
Where is she? How did she end up in this situation? The White House correspondence dinner…that's right. They were promised a good meal and a touch of drama…not whatever this is.
She looks down, her vision doubles before it focuses on the blood pouring out of her. She swallows thickly, sweat slips down her forehead. She has no idea what she's going to do.
—
Three hours earlier - 16:39
"Are we supposed to wear suits or our uniforms?" Jeremy asks over the phone. They're on a group call, getting ready in their separate hotel rooms in Bethesda.
"Probably just regular suits, we're not going for our mission, just for our friends." Christina says, already trying to pick between two pantsuits.
"Sigh, that's so much more work." Jeremy groans. "Agreed," Reid says with a laugh. "The food better be good…" Victor grumbles.
"Oh, I can say with confidence that it will be." Christina says with a smile. Given the other people that will be at this dinner the food will probably exceed fine dining standards.
"Worth it then," Jeremy says with new found enthusiasm.
—
17:42
Christina finds it a bit odd that they don't even have to walk through metal detectors to get in, but she doesn't comment on it. It's much less of a hassle for her. (One day she will ditch metal-wired bras, but that day is not today.)
They're on the guest list, which makes her feel very important, despite being probably, one of the least important people in the room.
They do have a few reporter friends in the room, but they're seated with the NASA administrator, who Christina is not the biggest fan of, but whatever, she can be civil.
—
18:54
They got here pretty early as it turns out, it's over an hour before they finally get their food. Christina had made the mistake of drinking all of her water in that time. It was mostly out of boredom, but now she's regretting it.
She takes a few bites of her macaroni salad and it is heavenly. Despite this, her body still nags her. "Do you know where the bathrooms are?" Christina asks Janet, setting her fork down.
"Yeah, you're just going to go out that door, take a left and then another left, you'll see it." Christina nods, getting up as politely as she can despite the fact that her bladder feels like it's overflowing.
The instructions are pretty easy to remember, two lefts. The first hallway is dimly lit and pretty short, it looks like it probably leads to the stage. She takes the first left she can and ends up in a much longer fluorescently lit hallway.
She sees signs for the restrooms almost immediately. The bathroom is completely empty, the hallway had been as well…almost eerily so. She shakes her head, too many action movies, Christina…
The feeling returns when she's washing her hands, it's more anxiety inducing this time. She takes a breath, everything is fine. She'll just get out of this eerie part of the building and back to the warm room with amazing food and her friends-
She is not alone when she exits the bathroom. She spots movement to her right and turns immediately. Oh, God. The man turns to her as well, he's got a gun…Christina doesn't know much about guns, but that is an assault rifle for sure.
He's not an agent…her instinct is to scream, but then the gun is being aimed at her and she shuts her mouth, raising her hands.
"What's your name?!" He asks angrily, his voice hushed. She considers lying, but that probably wouldn't turn out well. "Ch-Christina…Koch. Christina Koch."
"Are you a reporter?" She shakes her head. "Politician?" His hand moves closer to the trigger. "No! I'm an astronaut."
"An astronaut? What the hell are you doing here?" She laughs hysterically. "I'm starting to wonder the same thing…"
He walks closer to her. Thankfully, she'd already emptied her bladder, but Oh God, this is terrifying…
She shakes, her heart races. "Do you think this is a joke?"
"No! I'm sorry…I think I'm in shock, I've never been in any kind of situation like this. I'm used to stress, but not um gun-to-your-head stress." Ah shit, she'd given him an idea.
The cold metal of the gun's barrel against the side of her forehead makes her want to throw up. "Give me one reason I shouldn't pull this trigger right now."
"I…I have a dog-named Sadie and three younger siblings, a crew who relies on me, a husband waiting for me in a hotel thirty minutes away-I-I-" the gun presses harder against her head. "I'm a daughter, a sister, a wife, a mother!" That is a lie…but people don't like killing mothers, right?
"Mmm, decent answer…" he pulls the gun away, she realizes now that he has two, a pistol (which had been pressed to her temple) and the assault rifle. "But not good enough."
The first thing she registers is pain. She doesn't even know what's happened yet, but she's in pain. She knows that much. She tries to cry out, but it comes out as a strangled gasp.
Her knees buckle, she grabs the wall, leaning against it and trying to survey her injuries. "Oh my God," she gags…there is a dagger in her abdomen. Okay…is this worse or better than being shot?
He seemed to think it was better…it's definitely better than taking a bullet to the skull, but that would have been a lot less painful…
Okay, Christina, you just got stabbed, no big deal…she sobs…okay, back to business. She can't take the knife out, she'd die in seconds, it's preventing her from bleeding out…there's still a lot of blood though. She slides down the wall, ending up slumped against it.
She tries to put pressure around the knife, the only thing that seems to do is cut her palm and push the blood around. She's already too weak to apply the pressure she needs to.
New plan…get help. Shots sound in the distance, she flinches, the shots are followed by screams and then more shots. Alarms go off seconds later, the building is on lock down. Some of the doors at the ends of the hallway swing shut and lock automatically. American infrastructure really was built for this…
Pulling the fire alarm might open the locked doors. She looks around for one, it's too high…she's never going to be able to reach it, but she's going to try anyway.
It takes her a minute just to move a few inches, the floor, her hands, her clothes and the wall are all painted with a deep crimson. But she has to keep moving…