"If you're speaking about the event itself, I think that it's a horrible catastrophe."
"What are your opinions on President Bartlet's reactions?"
"I back the President fully." "What do you think should be done to resolve this?"
"I back whatever the President decides to do."
"But, at this point, what do you think the President should do?"
"I back the President."
----------------
It was true that the plane was being ushered by a few of Air Force One's own escort planes, but, nonetheless, it still took some coaxing to get any of the government officials on the plane headed for the Washington airport. The two hours on the plane had been endured apprehensively, but overall it went smoothly enough.
Charlie had gotten to see the President's speech while in the air - he found himself nodding in response as if the President was in the same room.
But now he was stuck - again.
He was in Washington - which was the good thing - but Washington was in a state of emergency, so he couldn't go anywhere or do anything.
Charlie looked up and saw a pair of Golden Arches. The most widespread example of American influence.
He'd have lunch. He'd call some people, but right now, he would have lunch.
----------------
"Josh, call Joey Lucas. Tell her we're going to need some information eventually. We have to come up with a good way to do that."
Josh nodded to Leo and glanced quickly at Donna.
"Yah... I can do that."
"Have a nice flight, Mr. McGarry."
"Thank you, Ms. Moss."
Leo left to find Margaret and then to the Washington airport to meet with the President and the rest of the National Security Council.
Josh walked a couple of paces. He put his hands in his pockets. He rocked on his feet slightly.
"Josh."
He turned his head. "Yes, Donna?"
"Stop it."
"Sorry." He stopped rocking.
"Not that. Well yes, that. But stop procrastinating and denying yourself."
"I'm procrastinating?"
"Yes."
"And denying myself?"
"Yes, Josh."
"What is it that I should be doing and want to be doing, but I'm not doing?"
"Calling Joey."
"Oh. That? Leo didn't specifically specify a specific time that I specifically needed to call her."
"But you want to call her."
"Specifically, could you specify why you think that?"
"Because you're fidgeting and being redundant and repeating yourself."
"Really?"
"To be specific: yes."
----------------
Josh followed his guttural sense of direction (and the directions from several people he finally asked after getting severely lost in less than eight minutes) to find CJ - who had a secure line - to 'steal' the phone to call Joey. Donna had stayed behind to watch the news. He found CJ, though she was reluctant to be relieved of the phone - the fact that she hissed and was near to screaming obscenities at him supported this (well, she didn't really, but Josh tended to over exaggerate) - and called Joey.
Josh tried her cell phone - no answer; she was out of range. He tried her at home - she wasn't there and the answering machine wasn't on. He called her voice mail:
"Hi, Joey. This is Josh Lyman. I couldn't get in touch with you, so I hope you're ok. I'm calling you because Leo has a job for you. I don't have the specifics just yet, but in light of today... Well, you'll have some idea of what to be prepared for. I've got my beeper with me, so... Yah. I'll talk with you later, Joey. Thanks."
He hated talking to no one. And he hated the feeling he got listening to the endless rings when no one picked up. He hated not knowing if she was ok. She had to be ok.
----------------
Toby watched Josh for a moment and then turned back to the TV.
"This is serious. They closed Disney World."
Sam was right. A mass exodus from Floridian theme parks was being shown. Toby rubbed his forehead.
CJ gave him a look asking him if he was okay. He gave her a look, "Yeah."
He stood up and motioned to the door. "I'm getting some coffee, can I bring back anything?"
Josh waved his hand a little - indicating his insufficient amount of caffeine in his system further with a short yawn mid sentence.
Sam nodded. "One for me, too. If you could."
Toby nodded and looked to CJ. She was getting up to join him. He walked out with her right behind.
They walked in silence.
They poured their coffee in silence.
Finally, CJ asked, "Are we going to actually talk sometime today, Toby? I haven't heard a good argument from you yet, and I miss it. I think everyone does. Hell, Josh and Sam look like they have too much good material stacking up in their brains, and they have no way to put it to good use."
"CJ, when you're on the Hill, you know exactly what to say to make people happy - at least satisfied - and you also know when to say 'no comment.' and just leave it at that."
"But I don't keep quiet and say 'no comment.' depending on my mood for the day."
Toby poured two extra cups of coffee.
"How do Josh and Sam like their coffee?"
Toby thought for a moment. "Keep them both black."
"Black?"
"Yeah. Sometimes, the blacker things are, the more perspective they put on everything else."
CJ paused for a moment. "They could still be alive."
Toby sighed. "Even in blackness, there is hope for the light that may never shine."
----------------
It had been eerily quiet as there were no other cars on the road driving to the airport. Leo felt like a lone survivor of an apocalyptic war, excepting his driver. He could have convinced himself he was too, had there not been such a crowd of stranded people at the airport. They were hovering around in groups consolidating each other or else they were lining up at pay phones because their cell phones wouldn't work. He caught a glimpse of someone he recognized, but continued to the only open gate - the only cleared airplane.
"Hey, Leo!"
"Thousands of other men named Leo," Leo told himself. "I'm not the only one."
"Leo?"
He kept walking, his hands in his pockets, to his gate.
"Mr. McGarry!"
There could be another Mr. McGarry. Besides, he didn't have time for the public - he had somewhere to go.
"Leo McGarry!"
Okay.
Leo turned around. He was being approached by that familiar face.
"Charlie. What are you doing here?"
"I was stranded here after I got in from Florida. Why are you here?"
"NSC. Listen, I have a driver outside. He can take you wherever. But you should get out of here. I'm sure you're needed elsewhere."
Charlie nodded. "Give my regards to the President."
"Yeah... Charlie?"
"Yes?" "Are you doing okay?"
He nodded and Leo patted him on the shoulder.
"Well, then I'm off to help the President save the world."
Charlie hoped they would.
----------------
"Nebraska. The Cornhusker State. The home of J. Sterling Morton, the father of Arbor Day, a U.S. secretary of agriculture, legislator and Nebraska territorial secretary. Also the home of Kool-Aid which was invented in Hastings, Nebraska. Nebraska is the only state with a non-partisan unicameral, a one-house legislature. It is also houses the greatest congregation of sandhill cranes each spring - a half-million birds from several southern states gather for six weeks in a 40 mile stretch of the Platte River before fanning out across Canada. Also, oddly enough, the 911 emergency system originated in Nebraska and was first established in Lincoln. And good old Nebraska is the control center for America's nuclear weapons."
"Mr. President, sir."
"Yes?" He was pulled out of his Nebraskan soliloquy.
"Two aircraft carriers have been deployed off the coast of New York, five battleships have been sent out to sea, and the Navy has dispatched missile destroyers and other equipment and heavy machinery to both Washington and New York."
"Thank you, Steve."
"Yes, sir."
Jed sunk down in his seat and thought to himself.
"The nation goes to Hell and they fly me to Louisiana and Nebraska. Aren't we lucky? Aren't the Nebraskans, the Louisianians lucky? Nothing will happen to them because that's where I have to go when something happens to everyone else."
Jed began ranting and raving in silence - arguing with God in his head, "Nebraska's still here with our nuclear missiles - which the fact that we even consider using them is a shame in itself. Nebraska is fine. That's what we tell ourselves. But we're not fine. We're on the verge of war! Past! We've been shoved off the verge, now hurtling towards the abyss we call war right as we speak. 'God doesn't make things happen, people make things happen.' Well God, you must have gotten bored one day and decided to throw these screwballs into the mix. But, okay, the blame is not yours. I'll accept that. I know you didn't make that car crash, nor did you make this happen. I know we have to accept that in order for us to turn to you when these things happen and ask you for help, for courage. But it's hard to keep going on without any answers. Who did what wrong? What happened to the United States' entente cordiale with the world? We try to be the good guys here. So, how come we are still fighting the same battles of our ancestors that have been outdated for millennia now?"
"Jed?"
"Yes, Abbey."
"You look angry. Jed, you can talk about this. You are the President, but you are allowed to be human."
"Abbey."
"Yes, Jed?"
"I think our girls need to hear from their mother."
She nodded.
"Jed."
"Yes, Abbey?"
"You are the President, but you are allowed to be their father."
