Anne Frank-Silverman awoke with a start.

The room she was in was cold, and damp, and she didn't recognize it.

She tried to move, but found that her hands and feet were shackled.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"We're having a little chat," said a hard and cold voice.

Adrenalin surged through Anne, and she soon became aware of her surroundings.

She was in one of the escape tunnels that led to the underground bunker beneath the White House.

Her hands and feet were bound and spread apart in thick metal shackles.

She was naked, and shackled to a rough concrete wall.

She could feel something metallic in her pussy, and there were clamps on her nipples.

A light flickered on, and she saw Monica Goldberg sitting in front of her, dressed in a baggy white pantsuit.

Monica pressed a button on a remote.

A scream escaped Anne's lips as an electric shock tore through her pussy and nipples.

It stopped just as Anne thought she would die.

"I much prefer the whip, but I'm under instructions to not leave visible marks," said Monica, as Anne panted heavily trying to recover.

Monica seized Anne by the hair and pulled hard, making Anne whimper in pain.

"Now you're going to listen very carefully bitch. Number one. You're going to issue an executive order to ban the sale of that Sirius Energy Zip fuel. Number two, you're going to roll out the Massachusetts Environmental Protection Act at the Federal level, and prep for making it a constitutional amendment. And number three. If I see you in a floozy little skirt again, you're going to end up like Lincoln and Kennedy. Have you got that?" snarled Monica.

"What?" sputtered Anne, before electricity tore through her again.

"Wrong answer bitch! Don't you dare forget who you're really working for!" screamed Monica, as Anne writhed in agony.

The shocks finally stopped, and Anne slumped in her shackles, panting heavily, a sheen of sweat on her skin.

"Gotten with the program yet? Or should I shock you some more?" asked Monica, her expression sending shivers down Anne's spine.

"OK! OK! I got it! You want that Zip fuel banned, and you want the new environmental regs!" said Anne.

"There's a good girl," purred Monica, stroking Anne's forehead.

Anne recoiled involuntarily at Monica's touch.

"There is nothing I love more than breaking pretty girls like you and making them my pets, but that's for another time," whispered Monica, before she stepped back.

"What did you mean by whom I'm really working for?" asked Anne, before another shock wracked her body, causing her to scream.

"Does that answer your question bitch?" asked Monica, once the shock subsided.

Anne nodded, her eyes wide in terror.

"Another item on your agenda for tomorrow. You're cancelling all current contracts that the military has with Sirius Software, and you're putting a ban on any new contracts with them. Got it?" asked Monica.

"Y-yes," said Anne.

"Oh, and if you think you can blab to that idiot Gordon Harris, you can kiss your parents, your presidency, and your own worthless life goodbye. Got it?" asked Monica, her finger on the remote control.

"Yes! Yes! I got it!" screamed Anne.

Monica pulled out a hypodermic syringe.

"There's a good girl, now have a nice sleep, and you can draft those executive orders in the morning," she said, injecting Anne with a sedative, knocking her unconscious.

---

Anne awoke groggily, finding herself in the familiar bedroom in the White House.

Memory of the torture session seeped back into her, and she sat up bolt upright.

"Was that a nightmare?" she wondered, throwing the covers off herself, and taking stock of her body.

The slight stinging of her right upper arm told her that it was no dream.

There was a polite knock on the door.

"Miss President? Are you ready? The Press conference for the executive orders is arranged," called out the voice of a Secret Service agent.

"Give me ten minutes," called out Anne, trying to stop herself from shaking.

She walked into the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face, and walked over to her wardrobe.

A fresh shudder passed through her as she saw the sets of over-sized pantsuits and flat shoes that were stocked in the wardrobe, while the skirt-suits that she had gotten from The Feminine Professional were nowhere to be seen.

She quickly dressed, and took a deep breath.

"Let's get through today, and then we'll deal with it," she muttered, before walking to her bedroom door.

---

Gordon Harris watched in disbelief, as Anne signed the executive order documents.

"This isn't like her. What the hell is happening?" he growled.

"With these new executive orders, America is sending a strong signal that we take the environment, and social responsibility very seriously. Let us work together to usher a new age of responsible and ethical governance," said Anne, before leaving the Oval Office.

"Something's wrong," muttered Gordon, hearing the almost mechanical way Anne made that statement

He quickly moved to follow Anne.

---

"You need something General?" asked Anne as Gordon fell into step beside her.

"Time, Miss President. This executive order is going to take time, and a lot of money for the military to implement," said Gordon.

"Do it. Consider yourself warned for questioning a direct order," said Anne, as she walked briskly towards her private quarters.

"Yes, ma'am," said Gordon.

He observed the Secret Service agents that were standing guard at Anne's private quarters, and approached the one on the left.

"Your name, agent?" he asked the guard.

"Agent Raven sir," said the petite woman, trying to appear tough and masculine.

"Agent Raven, I don't believe I have seen you here before. What was your previous assignment?" asked Gordon.

"Diplomatic attaché for Secretary Goldberg," replied Raven.

"I see, carry on," said Gordon, and turned to leave.

He pulled out his phone, and opened the SiriusChat secure messaging app.

"Somebody in Goldberg's network got to Anne," he typed, and sent the message to Aaron and Michael.

Michael's response was immediate: "I'm coming to pick you up," it read.

Aaron replied a few seconds later: "SZPD standing by in case things go south," read is message.

---

"White House air control, this is DH Chopper one requesting landing clearance," said Michael as he piloted his new Bell 505 helicopter towards the White House helipad.

"DH Chopper one, you are cleared for landing," replied the controller.

Michael banked, and turned towards the helipad, gently easing the Bell 505 onto it, while keeping the rotors spinning.

Gordon Harris ran towards the helicopter, and Michael opened the door for him.

"Let's go," said Gordon, and Michael took off from the helipad.

"DH Chopper one, DH Chopper one, you are being vectored to Dulles International Airport, please acknowledge," came the voice of a different controller from the White House air control center.

"Don't respond. Just hightail to the Sirius Zone!" said Gordon.

Michael nodded, and kept on his vector to the Sirius Zone.

"Holy shit! We're in trouble," growled Gordon, as he saw and Apache attack helicopter approach their tail.

"DH Chopper one, you are ordered to vector to Dulles International Airport, failure to comply will be met with force," warned the Apache pilot.

"Don't worry General, the cavalry is here," said Michael in relief as two SZPD HellVortex helicopters peeled out of the setting sun, and rapidly closed in.

One HellVortex banked and locked into position on the left of the Bell 505, acting as a wingman.

The other HellVortex closed in on the Apache.

The Apache deftly maneuvered out of the way and retreated from the approaching HellVortex.

"DH Chopper one, this is SZPD Air unit 4. We will provide escort. Proceed to the Sirius Zone," came Olga's voice over the radio.

---

"I'm at my damn wit's end Aaron. I cannot trust my own damn people," said Gordon, as he held a steaming cup of coffee in trembling hands.

Moments earlier, a haggard and tearful Anne had made an emergency broadcast where she had stated that Gordon had colluded with Saladin and Aaron, and forced her to sign the US-Libya treaty under duress. She announced Admiral Magda Jacobson as the new Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, ordered Gordon's arrest for treason, and declared that Sirius Software was attempting insurrection, and must be stopped.

"I'm pretty sure you have at least a few people whom you can trust," said Aaron.

"Yeah. I do. But I don't know how I can get to them without tipping off that damn network. And I'm a damn fugitive now," grumbled Gordon.

"How about a statement sent from here? You can present your own version of what went down during the standoff, and let the public decide which one is true," suggested Michael.

"I'm afraid that won't work. Before I fled, I stumbled on something I wasn't supposed to. There is something going on in the US called the Servitor program. From what I managed to piece together, it is basically a misinformation network that feeds the public only what a certain group wants them to know. Anything that runs contrary is suppressed or debunked by experts. We put that statement out, and the Feds will kill it using every regulation in the book," said Gordon.

"In that case, let's go all out. Michael, I want you to reach out to all your contacts, and get them to fight the executive orders. Gordon, reach out to your contacts and tell them that you are in the Sirius Zone, and they are welcome to join you. If we are being accused of insurrection, then we might as well do it properly," said Aaron grimly.

"We could have a full scale war on our hands," warned Gordon.

"I don't think it will come to that yet, but if it does, then so be it," said Aaron.