Chapter 41: Confederate

Jackson stepped back, her lips quivering in shock.

“D…Davis…but how…?”

“I think you have bigger concerns to worry about right now,” Davis’s spirit remarked, slamming into Jackson from behind and chopping at her neck with a heavy slice.

Jackosn stumbled forward from the blow, then had her head jerked back as Davis yanked her hair from behind.

“Die!” Davis screeched as she flung her hand for Jackson’s eyes.

“T-Time out!” Taft screamed, slamming his gavel to the ground and freezing Davis in place, her nails mere millimeters from Jackson’s pupils.

Davis gave a soft snide, pulling back from Jackson before moving her spirit back into her physical form. Truman stared in disbelief from the commentary box as Davis stood her body upright, casually brushing the hair away from her face.

“This can’t be happening…” he mumbled, “this can’t be happening…!”

Thompson picked up her mic with a friendly smile.

“Sorry for the momentary interruption there, folks!” she spoke calmly, “We’ll be back with our fight in just a minute after we sort out some minor technical details from behind the scenes! But rest assured,” she said, tightening her smile, “we know exactly what’s going on here...”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“What the hell is going on here?” Thompson shouted, jabbing a finger into Truman’s chest. “Didn’t you say JD had to be Fillmore?”

“She most certainly should be!” Truman snapped, pouring himself a cup of bourbon and downing it in a single gulp. “Okay,” he said, wiping a hand across his mouth, “let’s just calm down and summarize all of what we know.”

The room went still.

“Well,” Taft spoke up, “us Presidents can confirm that Davis’s Seal is emitting a large amount of Executive Energy, suggesting that it is indeed a genuine Presidential seal.”

“Right,” Truman agreed. “But as I explained earlier, we’ve already accounted for all the Seals coming from Elections, so she couldn’t have gotten it from that.”

Thompson lit up a cigarette.

“She has a real Seal…but didn’t get it through an Election.” Thompson paused for a moment, then snapped her fingers into the air. “Which means she must have gotten it through some sort of Power or Artifact!”

Taft nodded in agreement. “That seems to be the only reasonable possibility.”

“And that would be all we’d be able to conclude,” Truman added on, “if she only had a Presidential Seal.”

Taft stared at Truman.

“…are you seriously suggesting that Davis not only has a Presidential Seal…but an Executive Power to boot?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but in any case, I’m not the person you should be asking about that.” He turned over to the only person in the room who had yet to speak. “So…what’s your take on all this?”

Ruth Hayes gave a heavy sigh.

“When we fought against each other in the Civil War,” she spoke slowly, “Davis used her Power: Secession to separate her spirit from her body, just like she did during the match. However, she couldn’t move her body while she used it, and she definitely didn’t have enough muscle to rival Jackson in a match of strength like she did back there.”

“That’s what I was afraid of…” Truman mumbled. “While it is of course possible for her Power to have evolved a little since you last fought, it’s highly unlikely for it to developed to such a large extent unless her Power transformed into a full Executive Power.”

“And,” Thompson added on, “if Davis really managed to get herself a freaking Executive Power, then she almost surely got it from another Executive Power, rather than just from some random Artifact or ordinary Power.”

“Right,” Truman agreed, “which means there must be an Executive helping her out from behind the scenes. It seems unlikely she’s getting aid from an Executive from another country given she has a Presidential Seal and not a Seal from some other nation, which means…”

Truman bit his lip, reluctant to even contemplate the conclusion his mind was being drawn into, let alone speak it out loud. But they didn’t have time to waste. He swallowed hard, turning solemnly to face his fellow organizers.

“Which means,” he whispered, “there’s a Confederate amongst the Presidents…”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Shortly after Truman’s Revolutionary War was announced, Davis sat on the bed in her rented room, reading through her Bible in quiet solitude.

“Dearie,” Mrs. Surratt spoke from just outside her door, “there’s a guest downstairs requesting your presence. They say they’re an old friend of yours.”

“Is that so…” Davis said as she silently scrunched up her face.

I don’t know who’s managed to track me down after all these years, she thought, but I highly doubt they’re a friend…

“…tell them I’ll be down in just a moment,” she replied as she got up and gathered her belongings. She gave one last look around her room, then opened up the window and leapt outside. She landed down safely, but a hand grabbed onto her shoulder from behind before she could take a step forward.

“Trying to run away from me?” a voice cooed at her.

Davis glanced to the hand gripping onto her shoulder, her muscles tensing at the sight of a Presidential Seal on their hand.

“Not anymore I’m not!”

Davis jerked herself back, throwing off the assailant’s grip before rotating her body around and driving her nails towards their neck.

“…wait a second,” Davis stopped her attack as she took in the face of the person before her. “What are you of all people doing out here looking for me?”

The President gave a grin.

“I have a plan to take the country under my control,” they explained, “and I want you to help me do it…”

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Davis’s Flashback I. The events depicted here and in the next chapter are not based on any actual historic events, though there are several historic references being made that will be explained after the true identity of The Confederate is revealed.

Surratt. The inn-keeper in this chapter is a reference to Mary Surratt, an inn-owner who was found guilty of assisting the assassins of Abraham Lincoln, with her ultimately becoming the first woman ever executed by the US government. As far as I know she has no connection with Jefferson Davis.