Open Road films, Alliance, Film District and Europa own the movie and all rights, I am just writing the sequel.
Chapter 6: Piece and Quiet
Snow swung Rupert's arm over his shoulder, while the President took Rupert's weight on the other side. "I've never been so happy to hear you Rupert," Snow commented.
"I've never been so happy to hear me either."
"I like your sense of humor."
"That's because it's like yours, Snow," Emilie said dryly, as she trudged along behind them.
"Emilie, move up ahead where I can see you," Snow ordered. "We probably have at least another 1 ½ miles, since we made very little drive time." Emilie's stomach muscles burned in protest as they moved forward at a brisk pace. 'I almost wished I would have stayed in the hospital instead of pulling rank in order to leave early.'
Emilie jumped as Snow uncannily voiced thoughts similar to her own. "You pulled some strings to leave the hospital early didn't you?" Snow accused.
"Maybe," she hedged.
"How are you feeling?"
"Well my feet hurt.."
"I'm not interested in your feet and you know it. How's your stomach?"
"It burns," Emilie said dully as she took off her high heeled shoes.
"Next time," he growled, sweeping her off her tender tootsies, "don't wear the heels and do wear a bullet proof vest, because frankly, unlike Rhett Butler, I do give a damn."
Emilie felt warmth spread through her, head to toe, at his words. "Why Snow, you say the sweetest things," she said, mimicking a southern accent.
"Don't get used to it," he quipped.
"Mr. President, we almost there yet? I am losing feeling in my arms, and I feel as if there is a big, red bull's-eye on my back." President Warnock opened his mouth to respond, but Emilie cut him off, indignant.
"'Losing feeling in my arms!' I'm not that heavy! I want to slap you Snow," Emilie ground out.
He grinned cheekily at her. "Go for it, but I'm not going to feel a thing."
"Ms. Emilie, I would like to get my head wound sewn up. And while I am at it, my ears as well, so I don't have to listen to you and Snow's constant foreplay," Rupert complained with a roll of his eyes. "I would say get a room, but you are always invading someone else's space in their room." Snow smirked and Emilie blushed, mortified. The grin slipped off his face abruptly though when President Warnock glared at him through narrowed eyes.
"It, it's not foreplay, Daddy," Emilie sputtered.
"Not foreplay my ass – I didn't just fall off the Turnip truck," he muttered. Turning, he pulled out his key to unlock the door, but it opened easily. Warnock stopped and stared at the others, alarm in his eyes.
Snow looked at him uneasily. "You do realize this is an inside job and could be a set-up, right?"
"Unfortunately Snow, the thought has been creeping up on me for quite some time now."
Still shielding Emily, he half turned to the President. "Take my piece."
"Your wha, what?" the President stammered.
"My gun!" Snow uttered in exasperation, "Mr. President, I suspect you don't care for guns and have never used one, but Emily is the real target going through that door. Do you understand? You have to shoot first, get names later." His eyes glittered dangerously at the president in the hazy semi-darkness surrounding them. He nodded nervously and reached underneath Snow's jacket to tug the gun from its holster. Snow held Emilie securely, cocooning her as much as possible with his own body, while President Warnock flung open the door and flipped on the lights.