PART III
After a moment's hesitation, Josh knocked on the door to the
Bartlet's suite.
"I said, leave me alone, Lilly!" An angry voice shouted
from the other side.
Josh swallowed hard. "Dr. Bartlet? It's Josh."
There was a long silence. Then, a soft, "Come in."
He opened the door slowly, tentatively. He let himself in and
closed the door behind him. Better to not leave an open
invitation. "Dr. Bartlet?"
"Over here, Josh."
He walked across the sitting room and saw her as he came around
the sofa. Abby was curled in the corner of the sofa, a bourbon
glass in one hand, her face streaked with tears. He shifted his
feet and cleared his throat. "I came to see if
you…" He glanced at the silent, dark television.
"Were you watching-"
"Did I see him on CNN? Yes." Her voice was tight,
controlled.
"Abby, I'm so sorry. We didn't know. We got the same tape at
the office, just minutes before CNN aired it. The terrorists must
have-"
"Yeah."
He shuffled his feet again. Abby sipped her drink and stared at
the wall. Josh glanced around. "Where's Zoey?"
"She went to check on Charlie."
"Oh. I- um, is there anything I can do for you?"
She finally met his gaze and he had to force himself not to close
his eyes against the raw pain he saw there. "Stay with me
for a while, Josh. Please."
He nodded wordlessly. Abby got up and poured herself a drink.
"Want a drink?" She asked. Without waiting for an
answer, she poured one for him as well.
"Um, okay."
She handed him the glass as she passed by, and settled back on
the couch. "Sit down, Josh."
He did, and sipped his drink. "I'm so sorry, Abby. I wish to
God there was something I could do."
"I know." She stared into her drink. "I'm sorry to
keep you here. I know you have things to be doing. It's just
that…"
"You need someone, to talk to. I understand. It'd be Leo, if
he were here. He'd sure as hell be better at, you know,
this… than me."
"I don't think he's coming back this time," she said
quietly, as if he hadn't spoken.
"Abby, you don't know that," he admonished. "The
President is one of the strongest people I know. And the most
stubborn. Besides, Leo's with him. Leo won't let him give up. And
we won't give up on them."
"No, we won't."
The silence stretched out once again, this time a little less
painful for being shared.
"He loves you kids, you know."
Josh blinked. "What?"
Abby smiled sadly. "He always wanted sons. Oh, don't get me
wrong, he loves the girls, spoiled them rotten when they were
little. But I think deep down, he always hoped for a son. Then
you and Sam, Toby and Charlie… You got to him. Really got to
him. And he looks at CJ just like he does Elizabeth."
"I- I didn't know. I mean, yeah, Charlie, but…"
"After the shooting, you know what the first thing he wanted
to know was?"
He shook his head.
"Barely out of anesthesia, in so much pain, and all he
wanted was to see you. I told him when he woke up, that you'd
been shot." She took a deep breath. "He pleaded, with
me, with the doctor, with Leo… The only thing on his mind
was seeing you."
Josh look down at the glass in his hands, trying to blink back
tears.
"He called you his son."
He looked back up, eyes wide.
"After Mrs. Landingham's funeral, remember when he asked
everyone to leave the chapel?"
He nodded.
"I was so worried about him. He and I had been having
problems and with the MS and reelection decisions… I didn't
know what to expect." She took another long drink. "I
went back in. Not into the chapel itself, but in the foyer, right
outside the door." She swallowed. "I won't repeat most
of what he said, that was between him and God and I'm ashamed to
have intruded on that. But he was so angry. And he wanted to know
why God had let his son get shot."
Josh clenched his hands around his glass to try to stop their
trembling. "I had no idea…" he whispered.
"I know." She reached out and took one of his hands.
"I knew how he feels about you, and the others. And I knew
how you all feel about him. That's why this whole MS thing has
been so hard on him. It's hard to keep secrets from your
family."
He sniffed, loudly. "Yeah. I understand."
She squeezed his hand. "I knew you would." She sighed.
"Stay for a while?"
"Yes, ma'am. For as long as you need me."
"Mr. President, wake up." Leo's voice was a harsh
whisper.
Jed struggled to open his eyes. He recognized the urgency in
Leo's voice and his brain responded to that, if his body tried to
refuse. Sight came, and the room came into blurry focus. He
turned his head toward the door. They were back.
"Well, look who's awake." Tom said to the men standing
behind him. He looked down. "Good morning, Mr. President. I
know the room isn't what you're used to, but I hope you've been
comfortable."
Jed shifted slightly on the concrete floor; his body had
stiffened incredibly overnight. His head still rested on Leo's
legs and he felt Leo's hand tighten on his shoulder. He shrugged
as well as he could, his wrists still cuffed behind him and his
arms had long since gone numb. "Well, if you bring us some
coffee and a car, I'm sure we can overlook the accommodations
this time."
Tom laughed. "No, I don't think I will. But it is time for
you to come with me. Get up."
Leo gently slid out from under Jed even as the President was
struggling to rise to a sitting position. "The hell he
will," he growled.
"Shut up, old man."
Leo stood. "He's not going anywhere with you."
"Leo…" The warning was clear in Jed's voice.
Tom drew his gun. He held it casually, not quite pointing it at
Leo. "Come with me, Bartlet, or I shoot him."
Jed pressed his shoulder against the wall to pull himself to his
feet. He stepped forward, moving around Leo.
"Mr. President," Leo said sharply. He put his arm in
front of Jed.
Jed turned to face him. "It's going to happen anyway, Leo. I
won't let you be hurt in the process."
"And I'm just supposed to let you go? Forget it!"
Jed stared at his best friend with soft eyes. He smiled slightly.
"It'll be okay."
"It won't." Leo's voice was almost a whisper.
"Yeah, it will." He nodded firmly. "Whatever
happens."
They stared at each other for a long moment. Tom snorted.
"Very touching. Come on, Bartlet."
Jed nodded at Leo and walked toward Tom.
"No!" Leo shouted and lunged toward the terrorist.
Tom staggered back a step in surprise, then raised his weapon. He
swung, and it connected solidly with Leo's temple. The Chief of
Staff fell heavily to the floor.
"You bastard!" Jed dropped his shoulder and rushed the
other man, forgetting in his anger the other two with him. They
grabbed him roughly by the arms and dragged him out of the cell,
slamming the barred door behind them.
Steve opened the door to the bar and waited a moment for his eyes
to adjust to the dim lighting. It was too late for lunch, and too
early for dinner, so the only patrons were the few lonely
hangers-on at the bar. And one young man sitting alone in the
corner. He walked toward him.
"Hi. Mind if I sit down?"
"Are you Sloan?"
Steve nodded and sat across from the other man. "And you
are?"
"Stan." He gave Steve a searching look. "A friend
of mine says I can trust you."
"A friend?"
"Yeah, you gave him a break a couple of years ago, hooked
him up with some boxing club."
Steve nodded again. That could be any number of young men,
juveniles who were basically good kids but facing trouble if they
didn't get help. "So, why'd you call me?"
"I heard you were on this case." He glanced around the
room. "I know where the President is."
Steve took a deep, calming breath. "How do you know?"
Stan sighed. "My dad's one of them that took him."
Steve raised his eyebrows.
"Man, my mom and dad used to tell me that white people were
superior to all other races. That black people were lazy, stupid
criminals, Indians were just red niggers, Jews were all greedy
and Asians were taking over America. They believed all of it. So
did I."
"What happened?"
Stan shrugged. "I went to college. I tried to hold onto my
hate, but it's hard when you see those people are all human. At
the end of my freshman year, my best friend told me he was gay.
We'd been through everything together. I was supposed to hate him
now?" He shook his head. "I learned more at that school
than I ever thought I would."
"Where are they?" Steve asked quietly.
"I heard them talking about the President when I went home
last week. I didn't think anything of it," he said
defensively. "But they mentioned a warehouse the Order
bought last year. I'd be willing to bet that's where they took
them." He stared down at his hands for a moment, then slid a
piece of paper over to Steve. "That's the address."
Steve put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "You did the
right thing."
Stan nodded, but wouldn't look at him. "They're my
parents."
There was nothing he could say to that. Steve just tightened his
hand on his shoulder, trying to offer what comfort he could.
"How can I reach you?"
He pointed at the paper. "My cell phone number's on the
back. But, I want to stay out of this."
"Okay." Steve nodded, but he doubted that would be
possible. "Thanks for your help."
"I just hope I'm right."
"United State--"
Steve cut off Ron in the middle of his greeting. "This is
Sloan. I've got an address."
"Where?"
"19425 NW Lombard. It's a warehouse. My source thinks
they're there. I'm on my way now."
"Wait for us. Don't do anything until we get there."
"Right." Steve climbed into his truck, shifting the
cell phone on his shoulder as he started the engine. "I'll
stay back. You want me to call the SWAT Team?"
"No. I've got the FBI on another line, they've got
everything arranged with the Hostage Rescue Team."
"Okay." He snapped the phone shut and slammed the truck
into gear.
Jed turned his head, but couldn't avoid the blow. He felt like
he's been hanging there for hours, his wrists cuffed to a bare
pipe running along the ceiling. His arms had long since gone
numb, a welcome relief from the agonizing pain he'd felt as the
cuffs bit deep and his shoulders felt as though they were going
to be dislocated.
Another blow impacted his chest, drawing a gasp of pain.
Unfortunately, his badly abused ribs were not numb. Though he'd
never experienced it before, he was fairly certain several were
cracked. He longed to slip back into unconsciousness, but the
pain kept tugging at him, pulling him back.
So far, he didn't think any of the injuries were life
threatening. But he knew, were there to be any serious internal
bleeding, he wouldn't know until it was too late. One strike
blurred into another until he was aware of nothing but a haze of
pain. So when they stopped, it took him several minutes to become
aware of it. He slowly began to try to turn his attention
outward, to see what there was beyond the pain.
Silence. He tried to force his eyes open, surprise to find it was
much harder to accomplish than it had been in the past. His lids
felt heavy… no, they were stuck. He tried harder. They came
open, his lashes sticky with blood. He blinked. He must have a
cut on his forehead. He wondered when that happened.
He looked around, moving only his eyes. That hurt enough without
moving his head. He tried to bring the room into focus. There.
Everything was clear, but double. He blinked again. No better. He
shrugged mentally. At least he could see. And he saw…
Leo. Leo was sitting on the floor on the other side of the bars,
his shoulder leaning against them. Viewing his profile, Jed
thought his old friend looked as though he had aged a lifetime
since last night. Or was it the night before. He couldn't
remember.
He opened his mouth to call to him, but nothing came out. He
swallowed dryly and tried again. "Leo." Barely a hoarse
whisper.
It was enough. Leo jerked, and turned his head. "Mr.
President!"
Jed winced at the sight before him. Blood coated the side of
Leo's face and matted his hair. "You okay?" he
whispered.
Leo nodded, his mouth slightly open. "Don't try to talk.
They said they're coming back. Maybe if they think you're still
unconscious, they'll let you down."
"'Kay."
The moment stretched on. Jed watched Leo through his lashes and
Leo stared back. Finally, when Jed thought he either had to speak
or pass out again, the door opened.
Tom walked in with two others. They unlocked the cuffs and
brought him down. Jed moaned in pain as sensation came back to
his arms. His captors laughed.
The two men each took an arm and dragged him back to the cell.
Jed hung limply between them. He glanced to the side and saw a
gun in the waistband of one of the men's pants. It was so close.
Gathering his strength, and his courage, he pulled his right arm
free and made a grab for the gun. He was almost as surprised as
the other man when he found it in his hand.
Time slowed. He raised it, struggling to stay on his feet and aim
at the same time. Before he could demand that Tom unlock the
cell, pain exploded in his side and he fell to his knees. The
other one, the one on his left had struck a blow to his already
cracked ribs. The sound of bone breaking was audible. He felt the
pistol being pulled away and rough hands grab his arms. The cage
door opened, and they threw him inside.
He felt Leo's arms around him as he fell, and gentle hands lower
him to the floor. He struggled to drag air into lungs that were
on fire, tried to ride out the pain that crashed over him in
waves. Finally, it receded, and time resumed its normal pace.
Steve glanced back over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps
behind him. He saw Agent Butterfield approaching from the other
end of the alley where he had set up surveillance. He looked back
at the warehouse. There was still no movement.
"Anything?" Ron asked when he reached the detective.
Steve shook his head. "It's been completely quiet. Is
everyone set?"
"Almost." The agent touched the speaker at his ear.
They waited a long, tense moment. "HRT is in place. They're
moving in. Let's go."
"Well, that was stupid," Tom said.
Jed couldn't find it in himself to disagree. He looked up at Tom
from his prone position on the floor. The terrorist moved to
stand behind Leo, who still knelt next to him.
Tom held out a hand. One of the others pulled a revolver from his
jacket pocket and gave it to him. Tom stared down at Jed.
"Really stupid." He placed the muzzle against the back
of Leo's head.
Jed's eyes widened and fear filled him. "Oh, God…
No…" He met Leo's eyes.
"There are always consequences for your actions, Mr.
President."
Go
To Part Four
