"Senator Arnold Vinick was a man of honor and principle, a true patriot who always what he thought was best for his country, even when it was difficult or unpopular. His exemplary character and intellect were just a few of the qualities that led his former political rival, Matthew Santos, to tap him to be our next Secretary of State. We do not yet know who is responsible for his murder, but be assured that whoever it is will be found and brought to justice…"

Sam sighed and rubbed his forehead as he listened to President Sellner's statement. The past few hours had been nothing short of surreal. Twelve hours ago, the President-Elect's assassination had seemed like a horrible but random act of violence. But now…it was impossible to imagine that these two shootings were unrelated. The conclusion that there was a larger plot being carried out seemed unavoidable. The governor had already gotten a call from the White House, telling him to expect a large Secret Service detail by the end of the day. And while that was somewhat reassuring, it didn't calm Sam's nerves entirely. Matt Santos had had the best protection the Secret Service knew how to provide. Clearly whoever was doing this knew how to get around that.

"So I guess Ray Sullivan's going to be the Republican nominee," Eric Baker commented quietly, sitting in the chair next to him.

Sam nodded. "I can't imagine anyone in the party challenging him."

Eric was quiet for a moment. "Anyway, look, before…before the news broke, I was going to tell you…I think I know who I want for my VP if I win."

"Who?"

"CJ Cregg."

Sam looked up in surprise. "CJ?"

"Yeah. I mean, look, I know it might be a long shot, getting her to agree to it, but…"

"That may be putting it mildly. For one thing, she'd probably have to resign as Sellner's Chief of Staff. It might be kind of a conflict of interest, with him challenging the special election and all. And I don't know if she'd even want it. Before all this happened, she'd been planning on getting out of politics altogether."

"You're friends with her, right?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe if you approached her? She might listen to you."

Sam was quiet for a minute. "I'll try, but I wouldn't get your hopes up."

They turned their attention back to the television.

"Well, certainly a very eloquent statement from President Sellner, wouldn't you agree, Chris?"

"I would," Chris Morton responded. "But I have to say – and maybe this isn't the best time to bring this up – but I was interviewing the President right before the news broke, and well, you heard the interview. To say he wasn't nearly so gracious toward Arnold Vinick then would be an understatement. He actually implied that Vinick might be happy about Matt Santos' assassination."

"I heard it," the anchor confirmed. "I imagine there'll be quite a bit of fallout from that remark. I'm sure he wishes he could take it back, but…"

"But he can't. You can't put the toothpaste back in the tube, not in a situation like this. That remark is going to haunt him for the rest of his presidency, however long that is."

"Now, just to clarify for viewers who might not have seen the interview, he presumably didn't know about Vinick's assassination when he said it."

"No, I'm sure he didn't, but if you think that's going to matter to America, you're crazy. He's pretty much done for politically, in my opinion."

"The guy's an embarrassment to the party," Eric grumbled. "You really think CJ would choose him over us?"

"We'll see, I guess," Sam responded with a shrug.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gunshots. Screams. Confusion. And the illuminated screen of his Blackberry staring up at him.

"The President-Elect has been shot twice in the chest."

"Is he…"

"They're doing everything they can for him."

"Matt. You're going to be fine." Josh tried not to look at the blood on the President-Elect's chest, on the paramedics' clothing, on the floor. So much blood.

"Don't call me Matt." The voice from the gurney was feeble but icy.

"You're going to have the best doctors in the world…I know from experience."

"Miranda…Peter…I won't get to see them…"

"Yes you will."

"No, I won't, and you know it. I'll never see my kids again. I'll never see my wife again, all because of you, Josh. It's your fault."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You made me do this. You made me run. It's all your fault."

"Matt…Sir…"

"Thanks for everything, Josh." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I'm losing his pulse…"

Josh turned and jumped when he saw Arnold Vinick standing in front of him, arms folded across his chest.

"He's right, you know," Arnie said matter-of-factly.

"Senator-"

"None of this had to happen. It's your fault he's dead. And it's your fault I'm dead, too. If you'd have sued those white supremacists, I never would have gotten shot."

"I-"

"You've made quite a habit of getting people killed, haven't you?" Arnie's eyes were mocking. "Oh yeah, I know all about it. It's called opposition research, Josh. I know how you whined and cried like a spoiled brat until your sister gave in and made you popcorn, and then you left her to burn to death. I know you left Leo McGarry alone in the woods at Camp David, and then made him run for Vice President with a bad heart. And don't forget your dad. If you'd been with him, he never would have developed that pulmonary embolism. He wanted grandkids, Josh, and you never gave him any."

He felt lightheaded. "I never meant to hurt anyone…"

"Not to mention getting your assistant blown up in Gaza. And you really couldn't figure out why she left you?" He shook his head derisively. "It's like my father used to say. Never trust a guy who doesn't shine his own shoes."

Josh woke up in a cold sweat. It had been a dream. It had just been a bad dream. Obviously, considering the people who'd been talking to him were both dead.

He slowly sat up on the couch and glanced at the clock. Three-o-clock in the afternoon. He hadn't been able to sleep at all the previous night, and apparently it had finally caught up with him. Although, he figured, sleeplessness was probably preferable to dreams like that.

He rubbed his eyes and let out a long breath. Arnold Vinick's death had shaken him more than he cared to admit. He and the senator had never exactly been friends, but he had come to respect him over the course of their campaign. And the implications of this second shooting were terrifying. Presidential campaigns had always been potential targets for violence, but probably never more so than right now. Josh felt sick to his stomach when he thought about Donna and Sam, both of whom were going to be practically glued to their candidates' sides for the foreseeable future.

He jumped slightly when the phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, and then answered.

"Russell's out," Donna announced.

He blinked. "What?"

"He's out. He's not running."

Josh leaned back on the couch, feeling a huge wave of relief at the news, which he did his best not to betray in his voice. "Why?"

"He's issuing a statement saying it's because he needs to spend more time with his wife and grandkids."

"What's the real reason?"

"What do you think?" He didn't answer, and she continued. "He got spooked by Vinick being shot. He said that clearly there were people out there trying to tamper with the election by shooting presidential candidates, and whoever these people were, they probably didn't want him in office, either. He's not willing to risk it. He actually said that to me, in as many words. 'I'm not willing to risk it.'" She paused. "Go ahead and say it."

"What?"

"Say I told you so. Make fun of him all you want. You've earned it. I mean, my God, what a complete wimp. I can't believe I was going to run his campaign. Let me tell you something, I sure as hell don't want my President to be someone who chickens out at the first hint of danger."

"Donna…"

"Really, what kind of guy runs for President if he's not willing to…" Donna paused for a moment before continuing her rant. "The person in that job…in the presidency…has to be willing to send eighteen-year-olds into battle knowing some of them won't come home. So he'd presumably be fine with doing that, but he's even not willing to accept any risk to himself in order to get the job?" She sighed. "Well, hopefully it's at least finally sunk into that thick skull of his that he's not presidential material." There was silence for a moment. "Josh?"

"He doesn't want to get shot, Donna," Josh responded simply, getting off the couch to stretch his legs. "I can't say I blame him."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So I take it people are scared," President Sellner commented, meeting with CJ in the Oval Office.

"In a nutshell," she nodded. "The supermarkets have been mobbed. There are reports of shortages of canned goods and other nonperishables. People are stocking up in case…well, in case of what, no one really knows, but…"

"Probably buying lots of duct tape, too, I would guess."

"I'm sure." CJ nodded. "We have a few reports of Arab Americans being harassed, but nothing too widespread, thankfully, at least not so far. But the Dow is down more than 600 points."

"It'll bounce back once things calm down."

"We can only hope."

"Any news on the investigations? Either of them?"

"I just talked to Ron Butterfield. They're going to start administering polygraphs on the officers who worked the Santos rally tomorrow, but interestingly, one of the officers has just resigned. For family reasons, he said. They're going to be looking into him, needless to say."

"Well, that's something, I guess."

CJ nodded, pausing for a moment. "Mr. President, I have Lou Thornton waiting in my office. She'd like a moment with you. Actually, we both would." CJ wasn't looking forward to this conversation.

"Bring her in."

CJ nodded and opened the door to her office, emerging a moment later with Lou, the newly-selected DNC chair.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. President," Lou began.

"Of course."

"Mr. President, the reason Lou is here is because…"

"You have to drop your lawsuit, sir," Lou interjected bluntly. CJ looked at her in amazement. Josh had told her that Lou was fearless, but for someone – particularly someone who had never even worked in the building – to appear so completely unintimidated by being in the Oval Office in the presence of the President…CJ wasn't quite sure she'd ever seen anything like it.

"I'm sorry?"

CJ took a deep breath. "Sir, I'm sure you've heard at least some of what people have been saying about you ever since the interview."

"You're saying I should drop my lawsuit because some cable pundits are saying mean things about me?"

"It's not just the pundits, sir," CJ told him. "Just about everyone in the country, Democrat and Republican, agrees. What you said was so far over the line-"

"I put out an apology. And I didn't know about the shooting when I said it."

"Of course not, but sir, that's the kind of gaffe you probably wouldn't have recovered from even if Vinick hadn't been shot. You implied that he was happy about the President-Elect being killed."

"They're also wondering why MSNBC knew about Vinick's assassination before the President of the United States did," Lou added. "Do you have any idea how that looks, having the President yammering on obliviously in an interview while the network he's appearing on is getting ready to break a story of that magnitude?"

He sighed. "I know, it's bad, but still…if there's any chance I can win in court-"

"There's not," Lou insisted. "The case is weak. You know it, everyone knows it." She paused. "Look, the reason the DNC hadn't pushed back too hard on all this crap before now is because, frankly, we didn't think there was any Democrat who could beat Arnold Vinick anyway. We figured there was always that snowball's chance in hell that your lawsuit might get somewhere, and beyond that, well, if you wanted to sabotage your own political career, that was your business. But now…look, we don't know what to expect from Sullivan. We assume he's going to be tough to beat, but he's not Arnold Vinick. He doesn't appeal to moderates the way Vinick did. So now all of a sudden, the Democrats might have a chance at holding onto the White House. But for that to happen, we need every bit of media coverage we can get to be focused on our candidate and his message, not on you and your ridiculous lawsuit."

"And it's not just the White House we have to worry about," CJ added. "The entire House of Representatives is going to be up for re-election in less than two years, as you well know. Do you want to have tarnished the party's reputation so badly that we lose what's likely to be our only check on Republican power – that being a Democratic House?"

The President shook his head. "Come on. Let me tell you, what's hurt the Democratic Party in the past is most certainly not excessive ruthlessness. We've always been the nice guys who don't want to rub anyone the wrong way, and we lose. The Republicans, on the other hand, will say anything and do anything in order to win, and they do. They win."

"Believe me, I've been preaching that for years, but there's a right way and a wrong way to go about it," Lou told him. "And trust me, this is the wrong way."

"Mr. President, even in the unlikely event that you won your lawsuit and stayed in office, you would have zero credibility as President," CJ added. "You wouldn't be able to get anything done. You'd have a miserable four years, followed by a Republican landslide. That doesn't help anyone, least of all the party."

"Drop your lawsuit," Lou urged him again. "Issue a statement apologizing for it. Don't even try to run in the special election. Give our nominee the best possible chance to win, and if he doesn't…well, then we'll have four years to find a strong candidate and take back the White House in 2010."

President Sellner was quiet for a long moment. Finally he looked at Lou. "Thank you for your input," he said tersely, his voice indicating that the meeting was over.

She nodded. "Thank you, Mr. President."

After Lou had left, CJ looked intently at the President. "Sir…"

"I'll think about it, CJ," he told her, sounding somewhat exasperated. "That's all I can say right now, okay? I'll think about it."

She nodded and excused herself, heading back into her office.