On the television (muted), news banners scream: and THE SOUTHERN BLOCKADE: DAY 14.
VANCE(Without looking up)Did you know the anthem has four stanzas, Marcus? Everyone stops at the first. We sing about the "glare" and the "bombs," and then we pack up and go home. We never get to the part about the desolation of war.
Vance finally looks up. His eyes are bloodshot. He picks up the pen—the gold one used for "legacy" moments. He looks at it with pure loathing. [S7E11] God Bless America
VANCE (CONT'D)God bless America, Marcus. Because at this rate, nobody else is going to. Vance presses the pen to the paper. The ink bleeds. TITLE CARD: GOD BLESS AMERICA
MARCUSHistory is moving. If you don't sign the Executive Order by midnight, the "desolation" is going to be sitting on our front lawn. VANCEI took an oath to protect the people, not the map. On the television (muted), news banners scream: and
The heavy oak doors creak open. CHIEF OF STAFF MARCUS REED enters. He doesn't wait for permission.
PRESIDENT ELIAS VANCE (60s, looking ten years older than the premiere) sits behind the Resolute Desk. He isn’t reading briefings. He’s staring at a small, chipped ceramic eagle—a gift from a campaign stop three years and a lifetime ago. We sing about the "glare" and the "bombs,"
The room is silent except for the rhythmic thump-thump of a helicopter hovering somewhere over the Potomac.