Part 10b
Situation Room
7:29 PM
"She's calm, she's very… CJ," Josh commented.
"She's got a plan," Leo rationalized.
"Get them out of there no matter what the cost?" Abbey interrupted, rather annoyed, as she entered the Sit. Room. "I don't care, I'm here and I'm staying," she held up a hand and glared angrily at Leo, who'd begun to argue over her presence.
He nodded and took his seat again.
"Something has to be done and quickly," Abbey added, glancing with concern at the opposite end of the table where Toby, visibly angry, was brooding.
"Before he kills her, you mean?" Toby's voice was low and forcefully controlled, but beneath his beard, a rage induced flush was spreading.
For a moment, the silence held. "No. Before the stress causes her to go into pre-term labor," Abbey thought, but chose to say nothing, placating the anger instead of encouraging it.
"She still has nightmares about Rosslyn… the shooting. Sometimes she," Toby's voice cracked, broke, and he turned away to continue, "Sometimes, she still wakes up screaming, for you," he gestured absently to Josh. "And then, sometimes she still dreams of it… almost drowning in the River, but it's rare, and when she wakes up from those, she doesn't scream or cry, she just shakes it off, I guess, moves a little closer, pretends to go back to sleep. Rosslyn… she dreams about it the most, and those are the nightmares that frighten her." Josh appeared crestfallen, a little worried, and quite guilty. Abbey's eyes were distinctly watery, the President appeared concerned, thoughtful, and Leo seemed just as worried, perhaps even a little afraid. The rest watched him, concerned and frightened and just as guilty as Josh felt.
"Toby…" Bartlet began, struggling to find the words to express what they all felt.
"No, no I'm just saying, this is like Rosslyn, like the… River," he never said 'after that psycho drove them into the Potomac and tried to drown her, but she got away and we can only hope he drowned, though we never found his body'; Toby always referred to it as 'the River' or 'the almost drowning', depending on whose presence he was in. The Communications Director tended to lose all coherent thoughts and be overtaken by anger and an overwhelming sense of thankfulness when he thought of those days, what could have happened, what did. She was still there, and for him, that was all that mattered. "It's not… just her, it's them, she's going to protect them, that's how CJ is. This… thing…" he motioned with his hands, "it'll kill her before she'll let it kill them. And the baby… God, I… I don't know what to do, how to… help her." Toby's voice held the concern and the fear he didn't know how to show, and tears fought to well in his eyes. "I can't lose her, either of them," he whispered, but no one heard him, for they were all too caught up in the emotions his words evoked, the memories they couldn't quite shake.
He stood with a force that toppled his chair before fleeing from the room, unable to look at them, to sit or stand in their presence, their hopelessness.
Josh stood to his feet, as did Abbey – who looked at him with an understanding born of experience and motherhood, and nodded to him – and a silent agreement passed between them. They, followed by several Secret Service Agents, followed him out the door, to the hallway outside CJ's Press Room – CJ's Press Room – and began to sit, a candleless vigil.
Just moments later, Ron entered the Situation Room, flanked by two senior agents, and moved toward the President. "Sir, we've rerouted the CNN camera to the televisions in the Sit. Room, the Press Room, and the emergency setup where the First Lady and Mr. Ziegler are waiting."
"Why reroute the cameras to the Press Room televisions?" Sam questioned, unsure how to regain control of his voice.
"He's doing this in a public place," Bartlet replied after a moment or two of deliberation, "He obviously wants publicity. We can't have this… on live television, we need control right now. We can't censure it, obviously, but we don't have to let the nation see it live," he paused, then returned to his earlier train of thought, "He wants publicity, so if he turns on the television, he needs to think he's getting it. This… he won't know that they've been rerouted. We need to keep him… placated, give CJ a chance to do her thing. I have faith…"
"The front exits are sealed and we've cancelled all of today's activities involving any of the senior and supporting staff members," Ron concluded, and waited momentarily for the President's dismissal. Seconds later, he exited the room, leaving behind the two agents, and the conversation began again.
"You're calling this a crash?" Leo asked with furrowed brow.
Bartlet nodded, then turned back to the agents left behind. "The snipers are ready to move into position, sir, we're to pass along the command as soon as it's issued."
At that, his eyes widened and he shook his head emphatically. "No, no, it's not come to that yet. We need to resolve this as peacefully as possible."
"Sir, one man's already down," Josh interrupted, waving his hand toward the television, "Toby's right, CJ is capable, but this is too much."
"It's always too much," the older man broke in. "She's got, or is presently gaining, control of the situation," this time he gestured to the screen and Leo hit the 'volume' button in response. "Give her a chance."
"We are giving her a chance!" Sam argued, "But she's hardly trained in hostage negotiation – sir." He took a deep breath, anger painting his face a shade nearly as dark as Toby's had been. "We've got to get her – them – out of there. Forget politics!" He had risen during his tirade, and the other men watched him with a mixture of astonishment and understanding.
"This isn't about politics," Jed replied, his voice strained. "What if someone's hit by a stray bullet? What if he's angered by their presence – the snipers – and decides to blow the Press Room up? What if it makes CJ lose all of the ground she's gaining, makes her lose faith in herself? What if this makes her lose that baby, or herself?" he paused to let his words sink in, "He wouldn't take plastique in there without being willing to use it. Let CJ talk him down if she can – communication is her forte, and the lives she's bargaining for are theirs, her own."
"He's crazy," Josh sighed to himself, "You'll have to send them eventually. This won't end without intervention."
Jed let out a long breath, allowing it to hiss between his teeth, television having been forgotten, and placed his head in his hands. "I know, I know."
Seconds later, Leo drew in a sharp breath, gaze riveted to the screen. "My God," his whisper drew their attention, "she's done it. He's letting them go."
The men, some having stood to their feet, watched wide-eyed as 23 of the 26 people exited the Press Room, Bowman's indicating which three would remain. "You, you… and you," his finger lingered in her direction, "have a seat. I held up my end of the bargain, Claudia," he paused. "Now it's your turn."
7:36 PM.
Situation Room
7:29 PM
"She's calm, she's very… CJ," Josh commented.
"She's got a plan," Leo rationalized.
"Get them out of there no matter what the cost?" Abbey interrupted, rather annoyed, as she entered the Sit. Room. "I don't care, I'm here and I'm staying," she held up a hand and glared angrily at Leo, who'd begun to argue over her presence.
He nodded and took his seat again.
"Something has to be done and quickly," Abbey added, glancing with concern at the opposite end of the table where Toby, visibly angry, was brooding.
"Before he kills her, you mean?" Toby's voice was low and forcefully controlled, but beneath his beard, a rage induced flush was spreading.
For a moment, the silence held. "No. Before the stress causes her to go into pre-term labor," Abbey thought, but chose to say nothing, placating the anger instead of encouraging it.
"She still has nightmares about Rosslyn… the shooting. Sometimes she," Toby's voice cracked, broke, and he turned away to continue, "Sometimes, she still wakes up screaming, for you," he gestured absently to Josh. "And then, sometimes she still dreams of it… almost drowning in the River, but it's rare, and when she wakes up from those, she doesn't scream or cry, she just shakes it off, I guess, moves a little closer, pretends to go back to sleep. Rosslyn… she dreams about it the most, and those are the nightmares that frighten her." Josh appeared crestfallen, a little worried, and quite guilty. Abbey's eyes were distinctly watery, the President appeared concerned, thoughtful, and Leo seemed just as worried, perhaps even a little afraid. The rest watched him, concerned and frightened and just as guilty as Josh felt.
"Toby…" Bartlet began, struggling to find the words to express what they all felt.
"No, no I'm just saying, this is like Rosslyn, like the… River," he never said 'after that psycho drove them into the Potomac and tried to drown her, but she got away and we can only hope he drowned, though we never found his body'; Toby always referred to it as 'the River' or 'the almost drowning', depending on whose presence he was in. The Communications Director tended to lose all coherent thoughts and be overtaken by anger and an overwhelming sense of thankfulness when he thought of those days, what could have happened, what did. She was still there, and for him, that was all that mattered. "It's not… just her, it's them, she's going to protect them, that's how CJ is. This… thing…" he motioned with his hands, "it'll kill her before she'll let it kill them. And the baby… God, I… I don't know what to do, how to… help her." Toby's voice held the concern and the fear he didn't know how to show, and tears fought to well in his eyes. "I can't lose her, either of them," he whispered, but no one heard him, for they were all too caught up in the emotions his words evoked, the memories they couldn't quite shake.
He stood with a force that toppled his chair before fleeing from the room, unable to look at them, to sit or stand in their presence, their hopelessness.
Josh stood to his feet, as did Abbey – who looked at him with an understanding born of experience and motherhood, and nodded to him – and a silent agreement passed between them. They, followed by several Secret Service Agents, followed him out the door, to the hallway outside CJ's Press Room – CJ's Press Room – and began to sit, a candleless vigil.
Just moments later, Ron entered the Situation Room, flanked by two senior agents, and moved toward the President. "Sir, we've rerouted the CNN camera to the televisions in the Sit. Room, the Press Room, and the emergency setup where the First Lady and Mr. Ziegler are waiting."
"Why reroute the cameras to the Press Room televisions?" Sam questioned, unsure how to regain control of his voice.
"He's doing this in a public place," Bartlet replied after a moment or two of deliberation, "He obviously wants publicity. We can't have this… on live television, we need control right now. We can't censure it, obviously, but we don't have to let the nation see it live," he paused, then returned to his earlier train of thought, "He wants publicity, so if he turns on the television, he needs to think he's getting it. This… he won't know that they've been rerouted. We need to keep him… placated, give CJ a chance to do her thing. I have faith…"
"The front exits are sealed and we've cancelled all of today's activities involving any of the senior and supporting staff members," Ron concluded, and waited momentarily for the President's dismissal. Seconds later, he exited the room, leaving behind the two agents, and the conversation began again.
"You're calling this a crash?" Leo asked with furrowed brow.
Bartlet nodded, then turned back to the agents left behind. "The snipers are ready to move into position, sir, we're to pass along the command as soon as it's issued."
At that, his eyes widened and he shook his head emphatically. "No, no, it's not come to that yet. We need to resolve this as peacefully as possible."
"Sir, one man's already down," Josh interrupted, waving his hand toward the television, "Toby's right, CJ is capable, but this is too much."
"It's always too much," the older man broke in. "She's got, or is presently gaining, control of the situation," this time he gestured to the screen and Leo hit the 'volume' button in response. "Give her a chance."
"We are giving her a chance!" Sam argued, "But she's hardly trained in hostage negotiation – sir." He took a deep breath, anger painting his face a shade nearly as dark as Toby's had been. "We've got to get her – them – out of there. Forget politics!" He had risen during his tirade, and the other men watched him with a mixture of astonishment and understanding.
"This isn't about politics," Jed replied, his voice strained. "What if someone's hit by a stray bullet? What if he's angered by their presence – the snipers – and decides to blow the Press Room up? What if it makes CJ lose all of the ground she's gaining, makes her lose faith in herself? What if this makes her lose that baby, or herself?" he paused to let his words sink in, "He wouldn't take plastique in there without being willing to use it. Let CJ talk him down if she can – communication is her forte, and the lives she's bargaining for are theirs, her own."
"He's crazy," Josh sighed to himself, "You'll have to send them eventually. This won't end without intervention."
Jed let out a long breath, allowing it to hiss between his teeth, television having been forgotten, and placed his head in his hands. "I know, I know."
Seconds later, Leo drew in a sharp breath, gaze riveted to the screen. "My God," his whisper drew their attention, "she's done it. He's letting them go."
The men, some having stood to their feet, watched wide-eyed as 23 of the 26 people exited the Press Room, Bowman's indicating which three would remain. "You, you… and you," his finger lingered in her direction, "have a seat. I held up my end of the bargain, Claudia," he paused. "Now it's your turn."
7:36 PM.