Martha stood on the tarmac, watching Charles' limousine recede into the distance. She closed her eyes and sent out a silent prayer: Thank You. Thank You for keeping Aaron alive. Take care of David. She opened her eyes to find she was standing in a mass of people, all of whom were randomly milling around, confused by the sudden disappearance of the President. No one was paying attention to her. Detached from her surroundings and grateful for the anonymity of her situation, she dreamily watched the jet as it taxied down the runway; she couldn't think of anything except that it was all over.

The jet's engines increased their pitch suddenly and the plane began to accelerate in preparation for liftoff. Martha stood, focused. She had no intention of turning away until the plane was gone. She became aware of someone standing at her side and recognized Mike, then realized with a shock that he was crying. She put her hand on his arm and stood, dry eyed, as the plane lifted into the air.

"We did the right thing, Mike. We did everything we could."

"I know. I owed him this. We never – he never wanted to talk to me again after …"

"It's all right. I know he understands now. I think he knows what we did to help."

Novick nodded silently. They both turned their heads to look after the plane as it shrank to nothing in the early morning sky. He took a deep breath and in a clear attempt to regain control of himself said, "We need to get back to the retreat as soon as possible. I'm going to talk to the Secret Service about finding us some transport. Be right back."

"I'll be over here near the podium."

Mike cleared his throat and walked briskly back toward the hangar. Martha took her hat off and ran her fingers through her hair, taking some deep breaths. Yesterday at this time she'd been trying to get ready to greet President Suvarov and his wife – and feeling distinctly unenthused about the prospect of spending the day with them. Now all she wanted was sleep, and she had an unpleasant feeling that she wasn't going to get it. At the same time, she felt the same "high" she'd gotten after pulling successful all-nighters during finals in college: a sense of accomplishment, a feeling that she could do anything she wanted to do. She hadn't felt that way in years.

Suddenly she noticed a knot of men moving out from the hangar. Mike was among them, looking agitated and talking into his cell phone. He clicked off and headed toward her. One of the other men looked vaguely familiar; as they came closer, she realized with a shock that it was Aaron. He and Mike both looked upset.

"Aaron?" she blurted. "What are you doing here?"

"I met up with Jack Bauer once I got off the ranch. He called Mike looking for me. I helped him get onto the helicopter so that he could interrogate your husband. Mike told me that everything worked out and your husband was taken into custody." He was looking at her closely, worried.

"Yes, but… what's wrong?" Martha looked between Mike and Aaron, confused.

"Mrs. Logan, we just got a call from the police." Novick stepped closer to Martha and looked at Aaron for support. "It's about Evelyn Martin."

"What about her? She left to go home last night."

"She's dead, Martha. She and her daughter were both found shot to death in a motel."

Martha stared at Mike for a second, then grabbed Aaron's arm for support. "What? Was it robbery?"

"No, ma'am." It was Aaron, looking angry. "Evelyn Martin was in contact with President Palmer. She obtained a recording implicating your husband in the President's assassination. Wayne Palmer and I helped Jack try to track it down. She was murdered because she knew your husband was behind what happened yesterday."

Martha realized she was hyperventilating, and tried to slow her breathing down. "You mean the recording you were talking about earlier? The reason Charles tried to have the plane shot down?"

"Yes."

"Oh God. And her daughter is dead? But what would Evelyn's daughter have to do with this?"

"Her daughter was kidnapped and held for ransom. The recording was the ransom."

"You mean Charles…"

Aaron and Mike looked at each other in resignation. "Yes, I was there when she told Wayne Palmer. I'm sorry, but I know this is true."

Martha realized her knees were buckling. She tightened her grip on Aaron's arm and started to weep. "I wish he were dead. I wish I'd killed him."

"The car's here, Martha. Let's go." Mike beckoned, and an agent opened the door of the limo that had just pulled up alongside them. Aaron walked her quickly to the car and got in beside her; a few seconds later, Martha realized she was being supported between the two men as they pulled away from the airfield. She made an attempt to pull herself together, biting her lip as hard as she could. "The police found them?"

"A couple of dead paramedics were there too. Apparently Evelyn was injured earlier and called for help from the motel. When the paramedics didn't report in, their dispatcher called a trace on their last known location. The police ID'd the bodies, realized that Evelyn worked for you, and called the Secret Service, who called me."

"Where is Mr. Palmer?" muttered Aaron. "I told him not to leave the retreat without protection."

"The retreat?"

"Yes, he called me last night and told me he had information for me. He was ambushed on his way to the ranch, but I went out looking for him when he didn't arrive, found him and brought him back. That's when he told me Ms. Martin was involved. We found her and confronted her about the recording, and then she told us about her daughter being kidnapped and asked for our help."

Martha wondered briefly what it would take for Aaron to refer to anyone by his or her first name. A blood oath, perhaps? "And then what happened?"

"Mr. Palmer told me he would get in touch with Jack Bauer to help get her daughter back; she wouldn't give us the recording until she knew her daughter was safe. They left, and after that I really don't know what happened. Your husband told me later that the recording had been destroyed."

"And now Wayne is missing too? Does anyone know where he is?"

"I'll try Jack Bauer." Mike dialed and held the phone to his ear as the limo pulled up to the front of the retreat house. After a long pause, he said, "Jack, it's Mike Novick. We need to know where Wayne Palmer is. We've had some bad news regarding Evelyn Martin. Call me as soon as you get this." He shook his head as they walked inside: "No answer."

As the three of them stood in the foyer, Martha realized that the men were as exhausted and confused as she was. The bruises from Aaron's beating were beginning to show. "Look, we all need some rest. Something to eat wouldn't hurt either. Let me talk to the staff about getting some breakfast and we can decide what to do next while we eat." Mike glanced at Aaron and back at her, then appeared to change his mind and nodded. "That's a good idea. Aaron, you need to see a doctor; I'm taking you off duty. Martha, I'll be in the study. I've got to make some calls before we eat." He headed off before Aaron could open his mouth to protest.

"He's right." She put her hand on Aaron's arm. "Please let me get you an ice pack. You need that and a chance to sit down."

"Let me see who's here first. There are some agents I know I can trust, but I want to check who's on duty."

"Okay." She headed to the kitchen, and giving in to her worst instincts, asked for breakfast heavy on the eggs, bacon and caffeine. Returning to the front of the house, she found Aaron talking to two young, startled-looking Secret Service agents. She smiled and said, "I really appreciate your help. This is going to be a very busy day. I don't know my schedule yet, but I promise I'll let you know as soon as I do." Aaron gave a small nod of approval as she caught his eye, then frowned as she added, "And Mr. Novick is officially taking Agent Pierce off duty; he's been injured."

"Yes, Mrs. Logan."

"What are your names? I'm sorry, I haven't had a chance to meet you yet."

Looking somewhat astonished, the taller of the two said, "I'm Agent Mitchell, and this is Agent Williams."

Martha gave them her warmest smile. "Nice to meet you. Thank you again." As she and Aaron turned toward the study, she thought she heard a tiny "wow" coming from behind her.

Aaron still looked disapproving. She gave him a straight look and said "I'm getting you that ice pack right now," then froze and spun back toward the agents just moving out of the foyer: "The phone! Agent Mitchell!"

"Yes, Mrs. Logan?"

"Do you know where Agent Pierce's cell phone is? I gave it to someone from the Secret Service last night for safekeeping. I think it was Agent Clark."

"I'll find it, ma'am." Mitchell squared his shoulders and hurried off. Martha looked excitedly at Aaron as he joined her. "Didn't you say that Wayne Palmer called you last night?"

"Yes… yes! I'll try his cell as soon as Mitchell brings me that phone. You found it?"

She lowered her voice. "You must have dropped it when Agent Adams found you. I waited at the stables for a while, then called you and heard your phone ringing. It was on the ground near the stables. I don't think I've ever been so scared." They looked at each other silently until footsteps announced the return of Agent Mitchell, with the phone in his hand. "Here you are, sir."

"Thank you." Mitchell nodded and headed back to the main entrance with a determined look on his face. Martha gestured Aaron toward the library, then headed back to the kitchen to check on breakfast. She requested a dishtowel and some cracked ice, then returned to the library to find Aaron talking on the phone. From the look of relief on his face she realized that Wayne had to be alive. She stood patiently waiting through the end of the conversation, then said, "Come to the dining room," as she handed him the ice pack.

"I can eat in the kitchen."

"You most cert-" she bit off the rest of the sentence as quickly as she could. "Look, Aaron. As far as I'm concerned I'm not the First Lady anymore, and that's fine with me. If I am it's only on a technicality, and it will end soon enough. I need to hear what you have to say, and so does Mike, and beyond that you are my guest. Please, come in here."

He smiled slightly. "Yes, ma'am."

The three of them ate heartily, even Mike, who after an initial mutter of "I shouldn't be eating this," put away as much bacon as anyone else. Aaron and Mike did most of the talking. After the first few minutes Martha found herself making mental lists: Pack for David's funeral. I'll need to start making moving arrangements; Hal will be sworn in in a day or two – Evelyn.

She looked at Mike. "We need to find Evelyn's ex-husband. He needs to know."

"I've been working on that. Do you know where he'd be?"

"Evelyn mentioned he traveled a lot. They share custody, but he's working abroad a lot of the time. I can't even remember his name," she added as her shoulders slumped.

"That's okay, we'll get the FBI involved if need be." Mike gestured this difficulty away as though it didn't matter. It probably didn't, she realized. It's great to be the President. You can get anything you need. She pushed her plate away and poured more coffee.

"David's going to lie in state for 48 hours. That gives us time to get back for the funeral."

"Is that what you were working on?"

"Yes. I thought it was the right thing to do, and it bought us time to find Wayne and get organized."

"That's great, Mike. Thank you."

"It's time for you to get some rest, Martha. Aaron?"

"Aaron's going to stay here," Martha interjected quickly. They both gave her startled looks. "It's the only safe place. You trust those agents, don't you?" she queried.

"I trained them myself." Aaron nodded.

"Where else is he going to go, Mike? If Evelyn was killed, I don't see a choice. Charles was only taken into custody an hour ago. He could still have agents looking for Aaron."

"Good point. Okay, let's all take a break and meet at – what? Three o'clock?"

"Three o'clock."

Martha realized that Mike was in his "Fix Everything" mode as he headed back to the study. He seemed to thrive on it, she thought. "Aaron, do you want me to get a doctor? It won't take long."

"No, I'm fine." His voice was still somewhat husky, but he looked better than he had a few hours ago. "I wouldn't mind some sleep. I can find some fresh clothes later."

"This way." She led him down the hall to a small room with a couch, a few pictures on the walls, and a general air of disuse. "It's not used much, I don't think anyone will bother you here. I'll find you a blanket."

When she came back a few minutes later, he was slumped in the corner of the couch, asleep. She shook out the blanket and draped it lightly over him; he stirred slightly –

"Martha."

She sat next to him and took his hand. "I'm right here," she whispered.

Ten minutes later, Mike glanced in through the open door and stopped, stunned, at the sight of the First Lady sitting next to Aaron Pierce, with a blanket across their laps, both dead asleep. For a moment he seemed about to step in and awaken them; then he reconsidered, turned off the room light, and pulled the door closed.