Volume I, Scene Fifty-Six
Wren checked her watch for the fortieth time and sighed, slumping against her seat. "What the hell is the use of being a high-ranking government official if I can't get to work any faster?"
"You were the one who wanted coffee," Booth pointed out, without taking his eyes away from the road.
"Only so I don't shout at the staff!" Wren shouted, and Booth grinned. "Okay, okay, I know it's my fault. Just as well. Means Lucy gets a trial run at morning meetings," she mumbled, and searched in her bag for her phone. "Lucy. Running late. Do me a huge favor, please? Grab the morning's files off my desk and go do morning meeting. Yes, with the President. No, I haven't told him. Thank you, Deputy." She snapped the phone shut and sighed again.
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Lee wrinkled his brow when Lucy stepped into his office, arms full of file folders. "Where's Wren?"
"Chief's on her way in. She called and asked me to take this morning's meeting," Lucy said smoothly, "since she's got quite a bit on her plate for today. First up--"
"I would appreciate it if you'd be a little more forthcoming, Deputy, since you're speaking to the President."
Lucy sighed. "Sir, I can only tell you what I know, which is that I am doing this meeting because Wren told me to, and if this is a test, which I suspect that it is, I would really, really like to pass it, because I would really, really like to make a difference, and I think that working for this administration is the best way to do it." She took a breath. "I would greatly appreciate your cooperation in this matter, sir. This job means the world to me. Literally."
Lee eyed the young woman for a moment. "She's done a hell of a job training you, hasn't she?"
Lucy grinned. "The emotional appeal seemed the most appropriate, sir, but in all fairness, I knew about that before I took this job."
"All right, Deputy," he said, shaking his head, "what's next?"
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"Lords, I hope she remembers to tell him about the bid the Bluths put in for that new development," Wren said. She scribbled a few notes down on a legal pad. "I really don't want to have to explain all that again later."
"Well, at least you get to delegate," Booth grumbled, nodding at the Marines guarding the parking area. "Some of us are just one man, ma'am."
"Yes, yes," Wren said, shoving displaced papers back into her bag, "I'll see to it that you get a lengthy vacation one of these days. Maybe I can make Baltar give all the scientists a holiday on the same day, huh?" Her phone rang again before Booth could reply, and she frowned as she squinted at the display. "Madam Secretary," Wren began, wincing as she gulped down a swig of hot coffee, "to what do I owe the pleasure of--"
"If I get one more frakking phone call from this Brennan woman, her laboratory may be the site of an unfortunate accidental air raid," Athena interrupted. "Seven phone calls, Parker. Seven. And that's just from this morning. What the hell is she thinking, asking me to authorize a military mission to Kobol?"
"Oh, frak me," Wren sighed, and Booth snuck a glance at her before pulling into a spot in the garage. "Look, let me get into the office, okay, and I'll deal with her."
"I thought your office already shot her down," Athena snapped.
"We did. Three times. Apparently she decided to appeal her cause to you."
"I told her point blank that I wasn't risking my people without a direct order from the President," Athena informed her. "I also may have cursed. A little. Okay, a lot," she said, over the rumbling voice of who Wren assumed was Helo. "I'm not sorry. She basically told me that the Centurions were expendable. None of my people are expendable, Parker, even if they're big hulking metal paperweights!"
"I agree with you, Madam Secretary. So does the President. Look, if she calls again, have someone tell her to talk to me. Hell, just forward the calls to my secretary. I'll handle it."
"Do that," Athena said. "And have a nice day," she added unconvincingly before the call terminated.
"Frak me sideways with a broom," Wren muttered, staring at the phone. "What the hell, Booth?"
"Excuse me?"
"Your friend! The doctor! Apparently if she doesn't get to Kobol to investigate the skeletal remains of our ancestors, there's no justice in the world."
Booth whipped off his sunglasses. "You can't let her do that. Seriously."
"Is this the face of a woman who thinks that's a good idea?"
"I think that's the face of a woman who should have had coffee sooner," Booth muttered.
Wren ignored him. "Can you not talk some sense into her? You're friends, right? More than friends?"
"Bo- Brennan is very driven," he said, ignoring her questions entirely. "If she had access to an FTL drive, she'd be gone already. We're clear," he added, and Wren hopped out of the car.
They had just cleared security and were headed to Wren's office when a young woman ran up to them, clutching a note pad.
"Excuse me, Ms. Parker? Emma McCready, New Cap--"
"I know who you are, Ms. McCready," Wren interrupted. "I'm just on my way into the office, as you can see, so if this is about official business--"
"I was just wondering if the President's office had any official comment on the Kobol mission," Emma said quickly, holding out a recorder.
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch all of that," Wren hedged, taking a sip of her coffee, "what did you say?"
"The Kobol mission being mounted by Dr. Brennan's team," Emma clarified. "Does the President's office have any official comment on a mission that will be risking lives and valuable resources?"
"When the President's office has an official comment on anything, Ms. McCready, it will come from the official mouth of the official Press Secretary, who is still, I do believe, one Felix Gaeta. Do I look like Felix Gaeta, Ms. McCready?"
"No ma'am, but you are a central figure in the administration--"
"I would encourage you to speak with Felix at the next press conference, then."
"Excuse me, ma'am, but I have."
"Beg your pardon?"
"At this morning's press conference."
"Refresh my memory," Wren requested, gulping down the rest of her coffee. "Mr. Gaeta's response to this question was what, exactly?"
"That the administration had no official position on a mission that was not yet official, which seems to imply that it will be, wouldn't you agree?"
"Quite the contrary," Wren disagreed. "I find it a perfectly plain and honest response. If you would like him to elaborate, I suggest you set up a meeting with Mr. Gaeta, if he can fit anyone into his schedule." She tugged a card out of her bag and handed it to the journalist. "This is my office line, and my secretary would be more than happy to direct you to Felix's office," she said. "Now if you'll excuse me?"
Wren shouldered past her without another word, and Emma crossed her arms, looking mildly affronted. Booth shrugged apologetically at her as he walked past.
"Needs more coffee," he mouthed. Emma rolled her eyes.
"I heard that," Wren said, without turning around.