The Briefing Room Brouhaha and a Culinary Camouflage

The White House hummed with a quiet victory after the capture of the "gardener" operative. Anya Petrova had discreetly retrieved the device he'd planted – a sophisticated, miniaturized tracker disguised as a decorative rose pin – confirming Minister Chen's increased desperation to pinpoint Ellie's location or movements. President Sterling lauded Ellie's sharp observation skills in a private debriefing, acknowledging her pivotal role in uncovering this new layer of infiltration. The "sting operation" remained strategically paused, waiting for Minister Chen to send an even "bigger fish."

Ellie, now even more accustomed to her dual life, continued to embody the flustered cleaner. She "accidentally" mixed up cleaning supplies, causing a brief, harmless suds explosion in a staff bathroom, much to Agatha Grimshaw's exasperation. These engineered blunders, alongside her genuine knack for mishaps, served as the perfect camouflage.

One particularly tense morning, the White House Press Briefing Room was abuzz. The President was about to announce a new, highly sensitive trade policy, crucial for the nation's economic stability. The room was packed with reporters, their energy a palpable mix of anticipation and aggression. David Finch, the Chief of Staff, paced nervously, muttering about "global markets" and "unpredictable reactions."

Ellie's task was to ensure the podium was pristine and the floor immaculately swept. As she worked, she heard the frantic whispers of the White House Press Secretary, a normally unflappable woman named Olivia Vance, who was having a last-minute crisis.

"The snack tray!" Olivia hissed to an aide, her voice tight with panic. "The one for the foreign press! It's supposed to have the 'neutral' artisanal crackers, but they've sent the spicy, culturally insensitive ones! This could cause a diplomatic incident! Some nations take their crackers very, very seriously!"

Ellie blinked. Culturally insensitive crackers? Only in the White House. She glanced at the tray. Indeed, the crackers were bright red, heavily seasoned with chili, and practically glowing with aggressive spiciness. For certain delegates, this was less a snack and more an insult.

"We don't have time to swap them!" the aide whispered back, equally panicked. "The President is due to speak in two minutes!"

Ellie's mind, accustomed to turning chaos into a quirky solution, immediately sprang into action. This wasn't about espionage, but it was a diplomatic crisis she could potentially avert. She discreetly glanced at Anya, who was setting up a microphone, her gaze sweeping the room. Anya's subtle nod gave Ellie the go-ahead.

Ellie grabbed her cleaning caddy, rummaged inside, and pulled out a small, unassuming spray bottle filled with water, usually used for misting plants. She then, with purposeful urgency, strode towards the snack tray.

"Excuse me! Excuse me!" Ellie exclaimed, her voice slightly raised, feigning panic. "Fire hazard! Very serious fire hazard! These crackers are... combusting!" She began to spray the spicy crackers liberally with water, muttering dramatically in Xanadu about "flammable snacks" and "fiery consumption."

Reporters looked up, bewildered. The press secretary stared, aghast. The spicy crackers, now soggy and dripping, looked even less appetizing.

"Miss Chen! What are you doing?!" Olivia Vance gasped, utterly horrified.

"Cooling them down, ma'am!" Ellie insisted, spraying with renewed vigor. "They were very, very hot! Too much spice! Very dangerous!"

Just then, President Sterling entered the Briefing Room, ready for his announcement. He took in the scene: Ellie, drenching a tray of crackers with water; a horrified press secretary; and a room full of bewildered reporters, staring at the soggy, red mess.

President Sterling paused, then a familiar glint appeared in his eyes. He recognized Ellie's particular brand of "crisis management."

"Miss Chen," he said, his voice calm, "are we experiencing a culinary emergency now?"

"Yes, Mr. President!" Ellie declared, abandoning the spray bottle for a polishing cloth, which she used to dramatically wipe a single, dripping cracker. "These crackers, sir, they were far too... combative! Not suitable for diplomatic digestion! Too much... aggression!"

President Sterling nodded thoughtfully. He walked over to the snack tray, picked up a soggy cracker, and examined it. "Hmm. Indeed. Very combative. And perhaps, a bit... divisive." He then looked at the assembled press corps, a subtle smile playing on his lips. "Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, the White House takes its diplomatic culinary experiences very seriously. Miss Chen here, my 'Chief Clarity Strategist,' has just demonstrated our unwavering commitment to 'culinary neutrality'! No divisive flavors! No aggressive spices! Only pure, unadulterated clarity! This symbolizes our approach to global trade: transparent, neutral, and easily digestible!"

He then picked up another soggy cracker. "These are now 'De-Spiced Neutrality Crackers'! A testament to our commitment to a calm, predictable, and non-flammable global market!" He gave a quick, reassuring nod to Olivia Vance, who, though still pale, now looked utterly amazed.

The reporters, ever eager for a soundbite, immediately began typing, framing the incident as a humorous, yet profound, metaphor for the new trade policy. Ellie watched, a triumphant smile on her face. She had saved the day, not with espionage, but with a spray bottle and a ridiculous explanation. Her "Blunder Years" were clearly finding new, even more flavorful, ways to serve the nation.