Three weeks after Day 4…

4:47:34 P.M. Eastern Daylight Time

Washington D.C.

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He hadn't cried since the death of his wife.

President John Keeler stood at the window, frowning, tears silently rolling down the distinguished lines on his face from his squinting eyes. The tears glistened as the gentle afternoon sun shone down on the President's face. He had covered his pain for her for all these years, but now these feelings couldn't be contained. The death of Kevin, his only son, had pushed him over the edge. Now all the emotions he had kept bottled up for so long came pouring out of him.

He pretended all this time have put the death of his wife behind him. Acting like it had never happened. He mourned for her of course, but not enough; not nearly as long as he should have. Not as much as she deserved.

Not a day passed where President Keeler never thought of his wife. Every night he thinks about how things could have been different, how things should have been. He still blamed himself for not being there enough when she was ill. And when he apologized, she simply smiled and told him she knew what kind of job he had. At the time he was still a senator.

But his job was not an excuse.

He let the job get in the way too much. And when he became the president, he rarely talked to his son anymore. Not like he had used to. Too many times, President Keeler let the job get in the way.

But John Keeler's dream was to become the President of the United States, to be the leader of the free world and devote every ounce of his energy to making this country a better, safer place to be. When he was sworn into office, he should have been the happiest man on the face of the earth. It wasn't the same without his wife there.

He had been in a coma for the last week and despite the doctor's advice of not coming today, there was no way he would miss his son's funeral. He stared out over the vast cemetery now, gazing down at his son's grave. He had been standing here for the past two hours.

He still couldn't believe he was gone.

Kevin…

His scarred right hand holding his cane began shaking, and the tears turned into heaving sobs. The cries of pain and anger echoed off the walls in this massive room. They were out of his control now.

Kevin Keeler had grown up to be the son he had always dreamed of. He was the last piece of his wife he had left. He was quiet, shy. Just like his mother. He was intelligent and quick. He had such a bright future. God had blessed him with a perfect son.

And now he was gone. And President Keeler didn't blame God. He didn't blame the terrorists.

He blamed himself. It was his fault. All of it.

He asked Kevin to tag along on this trip. He was hesitant, but he president encouraged him and urged him. He wouldn't give up until his son came along. He wanted Kevin close to him on this trip. Deep in his heart, for some reason, he needed to have him close.

Kevin wanted to stay, and be with his fiancée, Mia. There were going to get married the next week.

When he embraced Mia and looked into her gorgeous blue eyes, swollen red from tears still flowing freely, he almost broke down right there. Right on Kevin's grave.

Why him? Why couldn't it have been me? I should have died on that plane… He should be down there burying me…

Kevin was the most decent man he had ever known. He had never hurt anyone, he had no enemies. When people blasted him because he was the president's son, he simply smiled.

He deserved a full life, a happy life. And now he was dead, only because of me and this job. Was that justice?

Just then a knock rattled the door.

With his left hand the president quickly wiped the tears from his eyes. "What is it?"

The door slightly opened and a young man popped his head in. "I'm sorry to disturb you, sir. But the Secretary of Defense was wondering if he could have a word with you. Shall I send him in?"

The president sighed. "Send him in."

Moments later James Heller walked in. "Mr. President…"

"Jim," the president said promptly, trying to cover the tears. "How are you?"

The secretary simply stared at him. He knew the president too well.

The president sighed, giving up. "What is it, Jim?"

Heller began walking slowly away from the door, towards the president. "No one should have to go through what you're going through alone, Mr. President. I know what it's like to lose someone close to you, sir. And I know how painful it could be. No matter how many times you say you want to be alone, you always need to be close to your friends, sir."

The president, tears still welling in his eyes, managed a smile. All these years and Jim Heller never changed. He was still tough as nails. "You're the only person on the planet I know with the balls to come up here and say that. What makes you think I don't want to be alone?"

"You let me in, Mr. President."

The president smiled and motioned him to a chair. The president himself sat in the chair across from him, a coffee table sat between them.

For a few minutes, they just sat there. Nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said.

Then the president broke the silence. "Do you think I should remain president, Jim?"

"Sorry sir?"

"I asked if you think I should remain president. And how many times do I have to ask you to call me John?"

"I think that's a question for another day. And I can't do that, Mr. President."

"Cut the crap, Jim. I know you have something to say, you know you have something to say. Just come out and say it."

The secretary sighed. He did have this on his mind for the past three weeks and it was costing him quite a bit of sleep. And he wanted to have his say. "Frankly, this country needs you as president, sir."

The president carefully studied him. "You don't think Charles can do the job?"

The secretary knew he had been put on the spot. He looked the president square in the eye. "No, Mr. President, I don't think he can. Not as good as you."

The president broke eye contact and sighed. "Well we have a problem, then, Jim. Because I don't think I can do the job anymore."

Heller looked away. He knew that the president was nowhere near the emotional or physical state to run the country, but the fact that Charles Logan was running the country made him uneasy. This decision was not his to make, and it wasn't the time or the place to push the matter. He let it go. Let it be.

The secretary's silence was enough for the president. "There was nothing in the world I wanted more than to be the president. I love this country and everything she stands for. I wanted to continue the work of my predecessors and make this country greater than it ever has been. To be remembered with the likes of Washington, of Lincoln, of Reagan. That was my dream.

"I woke up this morning and that dream was gone. All the passion, all the emotion was just a faded blur. I wouldn't be where I am today if weren't for my family. And now they are gone. All that's left is what I see in the mirror. And I don't like what I see.

"I woke up this morning and realized I had put my dream ahead of my own family. All these years and I had been blind. Blind to what I had right in front of me. What kind of person does that make me? Is that a person that you want running the country?"

The president stopped, choking back tears. "I'm announcing my resignation tomorrow."

The secretary could here the pain in his voice. He had never seen the president like this before. He was an empty shell. And he couldn't blame the president for his decision. No one could.

There was nothing left to say.