Chapter Twenty-five

"He's having flashbacks." Josh looked furtively around to make sure no one was listening while Toby paid for their coffees.

"Yes." Toby lifted the lid of his drink and blew across the brim.

"You knew!"

Josh hadn't moved but Toby carried on walking back towards the White House.

"Of course I knew. I've been living with him for the past month." Josh took a sip of his drink and tried to keep up with Toby's hurried steps. There was no rush but the grey clouds flitting across the White House told him that dawdling would be a bad idea. "He has nightmares, his wrist hurts so badly he can't move it some days, he doesn't eat unless I make him and he's having flashbacks."

Josh stalled again and Toby waited impatiently for him to catch up. "He should see someone. He should speak to someone like I did."

"He is speaking to someone. Probably more accurately, someone is speaking to him." Toby paused by a trash can and threw the lid into it. "He's going back to his own place next weekend."

"But he won't eat!" Josh objected. "If you're not there to make sure he does, he won't eat. He'll be having nightmares and flashbacks and not eating!"

Toby shrugged. Josh wasn't saying anything he didn't already know. He finished the last of his coffee and squashed the cup down before sending it to join the already disposed of lid. "Tell me where you're up to with your list."

Realising that Toby wasn't going to discuss Sam anymore, Josh proceeded to talk about how far he had got with his plan and how far he was still willing to go.

He was, it turned out, willing to go quite far. By the end of the following day Josh had met with most of the names from his list. A few had turned out to be 'false-leads' as Josh called them when informing Leo on his progress.

"Will you cut the private-eye crap and just tell me how far you've got!" Leo set his glasses down on his desk and sat down to listen as Josh told him how he had met three people so far. One obviously had no involvement and Josh had even considered apologising for putting him through the ordeal. One had gone white at the mention of Gillmore's name and proceeded to give Josh a name. One had proved even more interesting. It was almost as if he had been waiting for Josh to come to him.

"He said he knew it was only a matter of time before someone paid him a visit and he'd figured it would be Josh Lyman."

Leo couldn't help but smile at Josh's look of satisfaction. Whether Josh found out anything or not, Leo knew it was the best kind of therapy he could have. He nodded. "Go on."

"His bag was actually packed! He had a suitcase in his office. He looked relieved in a way when he started telling me what he knew."

"What did he know?" Leo shouted in exasperation.

Josh frowned. He'd been enjoying the build-up. "He knows a man called Dennis Harmon."

Leo shrugged then waited. "Jesus, Josh, you're stringing this out! I've got work to do here you know!"

"Dennis Harmon is a lawyer. He's known by most on the Hill, mainly for the work he's done for Michael Berridge, a lot of work, and by all accounts not for the most noble of causes." Josh shook his head. "Harmon's got Berridge out of more than one tight spot."

"Okay, so what have Harmon and Berridge got to do with Gillmore and Sam?" Leo's impatience with Josh had vanished as he became intrigued by the link he knew Josh had finally found.

"They went to Harvard together. They were business partners and get this, Gillmore's son is about to make part-"

"Partner at Berridge's law firm," Leo guessed correctly.

Josh nodded. "But here's the thing. Remember how Berridge was petitioning for my resignation after the Gillmore stuff?"

Leo nodded. "Lots of people were petitioning for that." He shrugged. "I just think it does you good to be reminded of that every once in a while."

"Word on the Hill was that he was taking it personally and the stuff he was saying about me behind closed doors was a lot more threatening than what he was saying on Capital Beat. This is where Harmon comes in. He's seen all the time, on the Hill, meeting with Berridge, all the time. Then, suddenly it stops. Berridge goes away for a few days straight after Sam was attacked and Harmon starts turning into a nervous wreck. Then when he gets back Harmon turns up again but this time he's not so welcome. Apparently he was removed from Berridge's offices more than once. Harmon's been seen moping around bars, hanging around after meetings waiting for him to show up and then suddenly he disappears, resigns from the law firm, leaves his apartment and moves into a hotel, actually a number of hotels. He's still around, he was seen last week, but he won't be for long."

Leo sat back and rubbed at his eyes. "He knows who ordered the attack. At the very least he knows that. He has something on Michael Berridge that's for sure."

"That's why I have to find him and soon."

"That's why Ron has to find him."

"Wait, I didn't get this far to turn it all over to Ron!"

"You've got as far as I'm letting you go, Josh."

Josh stood up and placed his hands on his hips. He didn't speak. He knew he'd regret saying what he wanted to say. He looked at Leo who returned his gaze with equal determination.

"You're not taking this further, Josh, and if you try the agents I'm going to have posted on you will haul your ass back here so quickly you'll be dizzy for a month."

"Leo, just let me tr-"

"No! Apart from anything else, and there are many reasons why you pursuing this would be disastrous, we're working on hearsay and that doesn't generally make for a good case in a courtroom. If we want to get these guys then we need to make sure that everything is by the book. How we got to Harmon is unimportant but getting him is going to be done by people trained in law enforcement!"

Josh stared at Leo for a few more moments before slumping back onto the sofa. He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed deeply. A small nod was the only indication he gave that he agreed. Eventually his head rose and he leant back in the chair. "You're going to have agents posted on me?"

"Josh, it's only a matter of justifying secret service expenditure that's stopped me doing that every day since we came into office."

A flicker of a smile crossed Josh's face. "You think I'm not capable of pretty much anything by myself don't you."

"Pretty much," Leo agreed. He reached for his glasses and put them on. "Go on. Go find Sam. Take him for a drink. You've done as much as you can to fix this, now go fix it with Sam."

Josh nodded. He stood slowly, suddenly feeling the effects of his sleep deprived past few days. He paused by the door. "If it means anything, I'd do anything I could to go back and change some of the things I've done."

Leo didn't look up from the file he was leafing through. "You, me, The President and any other honest man, Josh."

Josh stared at Leo but he remained glued to the papers in his hand. Josh's head bowed. He was forgiven. It was time to move on. He straightened and opened the door flashing a grin at Margaret as he passed her. He walked briskly through the corridor only slowing when he reached the communications bullpen to sort through what he was going to say to Sam.

Sam wasn't in his office. He was sitting in Toby's spare room trying to remember if Shearings Book of Quotations 2005 edition was his or Toby's. He had packed most of his things and was secretly grateful that Toby had told him he'd stay and finish the speech so that Sam could sneak off reasonably early to get it done.

A piece of paper caught his eye under the bed and Sam reached down to pick it up. It was the care leaflet that the hospital had given Toby when he'd been discharged. Sam read the information about broken ribs, cast arms and collapsed lungs. There were notes in-between each bullet point and various phrases had been underlined. Sam smiled on recognising the script as Toby's. He folded the sheet up and tucked it into the pocket of his bag. He'd washed the sheets and remade the bed, restocked the fridge with Toby's favourite beer, cleaned and vacuumed and now had no reason not to head off to his apartment.

No reason at all.

Sam sat back down on the bed. It would be rude to go without saying goodbye to Toby he told himself. He picked up the remote and flicked through the channels.

By the time Toby came home Sam was asleep. He opened his door to the Lone Ranger theme tune blaring out of the TV in Sam's room and shook his head.

… the daring and resourceful masked rider of the plains led the fight for law and order in the early west. Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear. The Lone Ranger rides again!

Toby followed the sound into Sam's room and turned off the TV. "Hey, Tonto, wake up!"

Sam bolted upright. A look of intense confusion crossed his face and then he caught sight of Toby standing at the end of the bed, arms folded, frowning. "Um, that right, Kemosabe," Sam mumbled as he pulled the comforter off his legs and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. "I was just going, before I fell asleep, I was just about to go."

"You need a hand with your bags?"

"Thanks!" Sam stood and shook the remnants of sleep from his head. "I'm going, don't worry!"

"No, I meant when you go, not now, when you go do you need a hand with your bags."

Sam looked at Toby and smiled. He tried to convey his thanks for all Toby had done for him but knew that wouldn't be possible with just a look. He reached down and picked up the biggest bag. "Yeah, can you get that one?"

Toby grabbed the rucksack and followed him from the room. They made their way to Sam's car and placed the bags in the trunk. Sam wiped again at his eyes and yawned. "Man, I'm beat."

"I'll drive you then," Toby offered with hastiness that if Sam noticed he pretended not to.

"I'll be fine." Again Sam looked at Toby but this time wished he could read the silent message he was being sent.

"I'll drive," Toby repeated and there was clearly going to be no discussion.

They drove in silence. Sam confused by why Toby was so keen to take him home and even more confused by why he was so glad of it. "I haven't slept for the past three nights," Sam suddenly announced as they pulled up at some lights. Toby's eyes didn't leave the road ahead.

"I know."

"Oh." Sam watched the wipers clear the first few drops of rain. "How do you know?"

"Because I have slept the past three nights."

"Oh," Sam said again but almost too quietly for Toby to hear.

Dennis Harmon also had some bags in the trunk of his car. He was headed for Dulles Airport. He was sweating so badly he had to wipe his hands on his pants before readjusting his grip on the wheel. Berridge still refused to answer his calls. Dennis didn't need to put two and two together to know that the man who had snuck up on him last night as he was getting into his car and warned him to keep his mouth shut had been sent by him. He put his foot down and hoped that the further away he got from DC, the further away he got from Michael, menacing men in car parks and most of all the possibility of being found out for his role in the attack on Sam Seaborn.

Josh rang the bell again and then banged on the door. Toby's car wasn't in the drive but Sam's was so he decided Sam must be in but hiding from him. Josh's paranoia where Sam was concerned had grown to a level that Donna had decided was extreme even for him. He rang then banged again. "Sam! Open up. I know you're in there. Well, I don't know you're in there but your car's here so…"

"Will you please shut up!"

Josh looked up to see an irate neighbour leaning out of his window. "They're not in or if they are in they don't want you to know so just shut up already and get the hell out of here!"

Josh's mouth opened but for once he could think of nothing to say in reply. He closed his mouth, opened it again, still couldn't think of anything so hurried back to his car.

"Can you place your laptop in the tray please, sir." Harmon was so close. Another few steps and he'd be past the security check and making his way onto the plane. The security guard looked up at him and studied his face. Aware of the scrutiny he was under he tried desperately to stop his hands from shaking and hoped the sheen of perspiration on his forehead would be put down to the cramped, stuffy room. "You'll have to detach your bag from the trolley, sir; it'll set off the sensor otherwise." Harmon pulled the bag towards him. Smile, he thought. No, don't smile that will look suspicious. No one smiles when they've just queued for thirty minutes. His hands were shaking and when he did manage to unhook the elastic securing his bag to the small wheeled trolley it pinged upwards towards his face. He ducked and ran a hand through dishevelled hair. "Sorry, he mumbled and then realised he had the perfect excuse for his behaviour. "I should have let that hit me then maybe I'd be out for the flight!"

The guard didn't smile. He waited while Hammond fumbled with the strap and then watched him hoist the bag back onto the trolley. He followed its journey along the belt and through the detector. He had one hand on the handle and had almost cleared it from the other side of the detector when a hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks.

"Mr Hammond, come with me please."