[Author's Note: If you see this, it means I have put link to music that helps me into mood as I write this chapter. Feel free to listen to them as you read on. Let me know what you think! Happy Reading]

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[Warning: This chapter is dark and angsty. It will reveal Leane's past, and her future. I promise the next chapter won't be this dark. And yes this is an author's note.

Disclaimer: All the events and the names written in the story below was purely fiction coming from my imagination and inspiration from some action thriller movies. Any similarities of events or characters are coincidental.]

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My name is Leigh Ann Andrews. I am 25 years old.

Years ago I went to college in Los Angeles and graduated from UCLA in 2010 with honor, bearing a cumlaude in law degree. I got job offers from a couple of high end lawyer offices in the city, but ended up taking a job in Washington D.C. to get closer to my mom and brother Jake.

One day, I was informed by my ex boss in LA from The City Administrative Office, that an important lady in Washington was in need for a new personal assistant as her old one retired just recently. I absent mindedly sent him my curriculum vitae and application, not really putting my hopes up to get the job.

Two months later, I was a personal assistant to Ruth Giuliani, who a year later became the one and only Madam Secretary of Defense.

She was a sophisticated middle aged lady with a bob, blonde hair, always styled and combed neatly behind her ears that were always adorned with pearls or another kind of simple yet elegant jewelry.

Her expression were almost always warm and welcoming, though you can see toughness and intelligence swimming in her eyes. Her attire was businesslike and immaculate all the time–she may have always woke up looking like that. She radiated charisma and control. Wherever she went, she would always be accompanied by her two guards, Grant and Luke. Sometimes also by me if necessary.

When I asked her why she picked me as her PA when there were many other candidates who were more competent and more experienced than me, she only smiled lightly.

"Because you're cute," she said with an amused, motherly smile, "I am going to be with my PA everyday, so I won't pick someone who's tensed and serious all the time."

She was kind and patient with me; she taught me all I know, but her job now got even more hectic and stressful, which meant that my job got as hectic and as stressful as well. Being a Secretary of Defense's PA was hard, though on the bright side, I get to glance at the President.

I shook hands with The President more than once! Just letting it out there. Okay.

By four and a half years serving Madam Secretary, I already knew her schedules, likes and dislikes. When to bother her and when to leave her alone. Whether she's in a foul mood or happy. Whether she's hungry or want some tea with only a half spoon of diabetic sugar in it. The point is, I was the second person who understood her well, right after her husband.

I had to work very hard with her, but I also learned so much. I had very little time left for myself and my family, so every time I came home mom always cooked like there's no tomorrow. My brother Jake and his hot girlfriend, Anna, would always be there too and I remember always feeling guilty whenever my phone rang in the middle of our dinner, though they know me being a PA to such an important person, means that being not left alone even on my day off was part of the job desk.

Nevertheless, Ruth treated me like her own daughter. Sometimes I wonder why she cared so much about me. One day I fell ill, but knowing her significant schedules for that day, I forced myself to be there for her and ready to soldier on until at least late at night. But around midday, in the middle of her hectic business, she noticed my predicament and hurriedly asked Luke to drive me to the hospital, leaving her schedule in a mess but she ever insisted for me to get well.

That's how I knew how lucky I was to be able to work for the kind, hardworking lady, and the fact that I knew I was working for the woman who fought for the greater good was only the cherry on top.

I made fast friends with Grant and Luke, Ruth's bodyguards. They were my close friends. They were in their middle 30's, both of them married. Grant had a beautiful wife and twin sons, while Luke's wife was expecting her second baby.

One day, I was on my way to Ruth's house with Grant driving the car. We chatted lightly, dropping off silly politicians jokes when Grant abruptly stopped in the middle of his speech.

"We're being followed," Grant said as I looked at his laser focused eyes through the rearview mirror, "Fasten your seatbelt and get your head down," he ordered, in which I, in the middle of my own panic, obliged.

He drove his car so fast and skillfully, dodging other cars as he worked to lose our tail. Grant took several unexpected shortcuts I didn't know exist or bothered to look at. He called for backup through his earpiece and just when I thought that we lost our tail, a van stopped our car in front of us and a minibus blocked us from behind.

We were trapped.

I counted six armed men in ski mask emerged out of their cars and broke our car's window. I let out a scream as they yanked both of us out. We had no choice but to surrender since we were outnumbered and hopelessly outgunned. Our attackers spoke in a language I knew as Korean– North Korean I suppose, and they started dragging me by my hair harshly towards their van. I wailed and struggled against them. I looked at Grant, fear in my eyes.

Bubbling anger and a murderous look etched across Grant's face as he shouted with rage.

"Don't you dare put a hand on her, you bastards!" he shouted as he started kicking the guy that held him and fought another who came at him. He pulled out a gun out of nowhere and shot at one guy.

The blast rang in my ears. Before Grant had a chance to take out the others, one of our attackers shot him in the gut. My friend fell on his knees, clutching his bloody stomach; a look of disbelief passed on his expression.

I broke out screaming. I kicked and flailed at the guy who held me. Rage took away my fear at the sight of Grant barely staying conscious. He forced one last look at me, conveying that 'everything's going to be okay', despite the agony that painted his expression.

We heard a police siren blaring from afar, approaching. Hope bubbled up inside of me until one of the guy stepped forward and shot Grant one more time to finish him off.

"NO!" I wailed and trashed, managed to elbow my kidnapper on the face. Pained, the guy who held me let me go, but the others soon caught me again before I could reach Grant's limp body on the ground. My last memory of Grant was his eyes looking at me, unfocused and empty, his blood pooling rapidly on the road beneath him and trickled from his lips.

"GRANT! NO!"

Disbelief and rage was the last thing that registered in my chest before a sharp pain hit the back of my head and darkness swallowed me in whole.

***

To them, I was not human.

The North Korean men hit me and kicked me like a dog. Pain was my friend for god knows how long. It might as well be for a lifetime. This time they broke my fingers so I couldn't break away from my binds, then they left me in this dark, damp and cold basement with no food nor water.

"Tell me when and where the Secretary of Defense is going to have the secret meeting with your President and the Minister of Foreign Affairs," ordered my attacker with a thick Korean accent.

Ruth told me one or two weeks ago to record a faux meeting in between her schedule. She shared a secret to me: She was going to have a classified meeting with some key people in the country.

"That sounds very serious."

"When the word nuclear is in the book, then yes, it is serious, Leigh Ann."

Nuclear? She wasn't even supposed to tell me any of this, so I didn't ask any further.

These terrorists tortured me endlessly already for that sensitive information. But I was not going let my pain and Grant's death be in vain and risked the lives of the countless of innocent people.

I glared at him and swallowed painfully. Anger, hatred, agony and fear hung all over me. I answered with stern but shaking voice.

"I pledge... allegiance to the Flag of the United Sta-" he cut me mid speech, slapping me hard and kicked me in the gut until I coughed up blood.

"TELL ME!"

"I DON'T KNOW!" I cried and screamed in agony as he kept on his torture. His fist made contact to my face, my chest and stomach–all over me until I couldn't take it anymore.

I blacked out.

When I woke up, I was tied to a chair, a laptop sat in front of me. A video was playing on the screen, showing Ruth's horrified expression. It took me a while, but then I realized that it was a live feed. A voice behind me spoke.

"Madam Secretary; Mister President," he began. His voice was different. His English was much better even though I could still hear a Korean accent to it. "Thank you for agreeing to speak with me. Now let's get straight to the matters at hand. Give us the coordinates to the whereabouts of our ship carrying our intelligence and weaponry that you take away from us."

"Just tell us where it is, Madam Secretary, and we shall return your faithful, patriotic assistant to you, alive and in one piece," he mocked.

He chuckled darkly behind me at Ruth's and the president's silence. "Come on, Ruth. We both know how much you love Leigh Ann. How she reminded you of your dead daughter."

"Yes, we did our research. Give us the coordinates and you have my word, I will return her alive. No harm will come to your people in New York who are going to be celebrating New Year with their families, friends and loved ones," he said taunting them in an eeriely calm voice.

Ruth was now visibly breathing hard and trying to keep her composure in check while the president's face was purple from rage and frustration.

"D-don't give it to t-them, Ruth," I said shaking. The man behind me laughed and yanked my head back, causing me to grunt in pain.

I didn't know how much more pain I could endure, or how long I would last. I raked my brain past all the pain and hunger, thinking how best to help them find me.

"DC, Ibiza Night Clu-" before I finished my sentence I was yanked senseless by my hair painfully. I cried as I hit the cold hard ground, all while still being tied to the chair that held me.

I could only hope that they caught my information and hopefully catch these guys. They had to find me, or else, I would surely die.

Earlier I saw one of them, still fully covered in ski mask, long sleeved shirt, pants, and gloves. But I saw the fresh, smudged logo of Ibiza Night Club on his exposed wrist. I concluded that we were still here in DC. And by the reaction of my kidnapper, I was right.

The terorrist who earlier seemed calm as he talked to Ruth and the president, angrily threw punishing punches at me, ignoring the fact that we were still live with the White House. I didn't know how many times his knuckles met my face; but when I regained some consciousness, I think I broke my jaw bone. He pulled me back up to my seat to face the camera. My eyes blurred at the abuse and I couldn't see straight, but I could hear the President's angry shouts through the laptop speaker.

This time my kidnapper's fake patience was gone.

"You wasted my time, Mister President," he spat violently, "Now you and Ruth will get a front row seat as you watch your faithful assistant meets her maker. Her blood is in your hands."

He yanked my head back and dragged a blade on my collarbone and chest, drawing fresh blood off of me. I screamed and flailed,  my whole body trembled with the torment, but with my body being tied off there wasn't much I could do. Nowhere to run. All I knew was pain and agony.

I heard my agonizing scream pierced through the entire basement, over and over. My existence at that moment consisted only of pain. Heck, I didn't even remember my own name. At this point, death didn't seem like a bad idea; pleasant even. Then hopefully I would just stop feeling and forget everything.

Then I felt the knife on my neck. This time, as it sliced my flesh, I welcomed death like one would welcome an old friend.

***

The scene changed. Now I saw events like rolling videos.

I saw a news headline reporting that the Washington Police Department had taken into custody a North Korean terrorists cell who planned on setting off bombs on several locations at the city during the New Year's Eve. Their track was first found at Ibiza Night Club in DC from a classified informant. The North Korean government denied their involvement with the terrorist cell group in United States.

I saw a funeral. It was solemn. So many many people lit up candles and brought flowers. The president, Ruth and Luke was there, their expressions somber and crestfallen, along with other people I did not know. My mother came into view and placed her favorite cross necklace on the the beautiful, glossy brown coffin. Then it dawned on me:

The funeral was mine.

Now I saw Jake and mom, looking slightly older but their faces were of happiness and joy. Anna was a beautiful bride as she walked on the aisle. They exchanged their wedding vows and kissed. Now they were doing their first dance. Jake and Anna gazed lovingly at each other. Anna embraced her husband and whispered.

"If Leigh Ann were here, she would be very happy for us," she said as tears of happiness welled up in her eyes. My brother nodded and pulled away a bit, smiling at her before pulling her into a long kiss.

During the reception, my mom came to them and hugged them both. A man around my mother's age was there by her side, holding her hand as he congratulated my brother's wedding. The man looked down at my mom, his eyes filled with affection towards her.

Then I saw me in my medieval dress, standing in the middle of a vast, old forest. Legolas smiled at me. His eyes danced with excitement at everything around us; my expression mirrored his. We gazed at the mighty tree in front of us. Our faces were like children's who finally see for themselves that Santa Clause is real.

Gimli grunted beside us and exclaimed, "Lad and lassie, I would very much like to move on if you two finished praying to the tree!" I and Legolas laughed at him. Gimli huffed. The dwarf then rolled his eyes at us.

I saw Aragorn and Arwen kissing at a white stone courtyard lovingly. Their moments of intimacy ruined by two beautiful little children, a boy and a girl running towards them. The boy ran after the girl. With a high pitched shriek, the little girl yelled, "Adar, help!"

Aragorn laughed, "Come here, my daughter," he chuckled as he scooped up the little girl in his arms. Arwen caught the running boy and planted a kiss on his chubby cheek. The boy giggled at his mother's kisses, then brought a hand up her head, pulling a white petal off of his mother hair. The petal of the White Tree of Gondor.

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[Author's Note: Tell me what you think about the chapter. I know it's dark, but do not fret, I'm not all about angst! Let me know what went through your head as you read this chapter. Your opinions and critics are welcomed! Thank you again for reading, my preciousssss]