Desolation, Part XII

Author: Sirius

Disclaimer: See Part I for ratings and disclaimer info.

Author note: Sorry for the lateness of this post.  I spent most of the weekend recovering from accidentally eating something to which I'm allergic, so I wasn't able to get much done.  I'm not quite sure if this chapter ended up happening the way I want it to, but this part needed to be in here for me to continue with the rest of the story.  This picks up a little while after Part XI left off.  As always, reviews are welcome.

Elsewhere – 1:30 pm

"Where is that idiot?!"  He glanced toward his watch in annoyance.  He had things to do before work tonight and couldn't afford to wait for Albrecht much longer than he already had.  If you've screwed this up, you won't have long to regret it.

West Wing – same time

The President was still chuckling as he walked into Senior Staff, causing a few individuals in the group to give him strange looks.  He was about to send someone to bring Zoey and Charlie to the already unorthodox meeting when the two stepped into the room – followed by Josh and Donna a few moments later.  There were still a few people missing, but it was Sunday and this meeting didn't need to be rushed.  Most of the people in the room would have had the day off if not for what had happened to Deena.  Bartlet knew that none of them would stay home now even if he ordered it, so he allowed his staff and friends to do what they did best – try to make sense out of madness.

He looked around the room and conducted a mental head-count.  Leo, check; Margaret, check; Debbie, check.  Charlie and Zoey – now, there's a sight I'd almost lost hope of ever seeing again.  The contrast and inherent beauty of the light fingers interlaced with dark caught his attention for a moment, and he nodded at the two with a gentle smile in his eyes before returning to his checklist.  Josh, check; Donna, check – I wonder if those two are really as selectively blind as they like to pretend.  Toby, check; CJ, check; Sam and Ainsley – check, check.  Ron – Bartlet's eyes glanced to the agent at the door, and his gaze was met with a solemn nod.  Hmm, that means the only people missing are Abbey and Captain DiMennaOh, almost forgot – and Danny. 

Ron, after listening to something coming over his earpiece, walked over to the President and quietly informed him that the Captain had been delayed by an incident at the station, but had arrived and was on his way up.  In the midst of the announcement, Abbey glided into the room and took a position next to her husband.  Danny came in just as Ron moved back to his place near the door. 

"I see we have almost everyone," the President quietly remarked, "and the one that's missing should be here shortly."  The statement was punctuated by a quiet knock and the entrance of Captain DiMenna.  Bartlet directed him to have a seat and spent several seconds looking at the diverse group of people in front of him. 

"Charlie," Bartlet said, "Look around you.  These people, every single one of them – myself included – are here to act as support to you.  You will not go through this alone.  Oh, yes, and as a bit of an addendum to this intro comment… don't ever keep something like this from me again."

Charlie wasn't exactly which "this" the President was referring, but there was only one acceptable response.  "Yes, sir."  He was still dazed by the number of changes that had swept through his life in less than 48 hours, and wasn't quite sure which way was up and which down, but Zoey's presence by his side anchored him. 

"Captain," he heard Bartlet say a second later, "what's the situation with Albrecht?"

"I'd probably have the DA breathing down my neck if he knew about it.  Thankfully, since he entered the West Wing without proper clearance, it's technically a Service matter.  The legal ground may still be a little sticky if we don't let him make that phone call – sometime in the next few hours.  As far as anyone out of this loop is concerned, there was a technical problem with the computer system that resulted in a prolonged booking time."

"Should I be hearing this?" Danny asked.  He paused for a moment.  "Never mind, I'm enjoying hearing this… and I think I left my notebook on my desk… darn."

Even Ron cracked a small smile at that comment.  "Ron, Captain," the President continued, "get together and figure out a strategy.  Keep all of the dealings with Albrecht above-board.  We don't want any legal situations coming out of this… but I want to know what he knows… what's in his head, and what – if anything – he has to do with this.  And if he had anything, anything to do with Deena Young's death, you will tell me about it."  Bartlet's ice-cold glare promised retribution on those who would dare visit harm upon his family.  DiMenna shivered slightly – Bartlet was an honorable man, but definitely not one that he would want to cross.

"Yes, sir," he answered.

"Are there any other leads, Captain?"

"Nothing solid, sir.  There are no witnesses that we've been able to find, but I still have officers checking the local hospitals – and some a bit further out – for patients who came in looking as though they'd been in a fight during the time frame in question.  Most of the hits so far on that score are unlikely to have been involved in this."

"What about the third-watch patrolman that found them?" Charlie asked.  "And the night-shift coroner?  Any word yet on why Deena wasn't printed when Andy was?"

"I'd be able to give you a more solid lead on that right now if I could actually find my night-shift coroner.  The officer in charge of the case was apparently coming down with the flu, Zeiherin told him to go home because he looked like shit, that she'd finish up with the printing.  She'd already finished the prelim by then, and had typed up the initial report, but today, she's nowhere to be found."

"And the likelihood that she's directly involved with this?" Ron asked.

"Is not very high," the Captain answered.  "Hate crimes just make her work harder.  She most definitely would not either commit or obscure the facts on these cases above and beyond anything else.  Her parents were both children in WWII – somehow, each managed to survive.  Her mother was in Birkenau, her father in Auschwitz.  She would not, ever cover up details in a case like this.  There is nothing on this earth that could convince her to do that.  Frankly, that's why I'm worried that she hasn't been in touch."

"Find out what's going on here, Captain, and find out soon."  Again, the only response that could be given to the President was, "Yes, sir."

"Danny, any word from the Post on Albrecht's future?"

"Mr. President, if his only offense had been subbing for me when he wasn't supposed to, my editor could have handled that.  Illegal entry into the West Wing, however… in all probability, sir, he'll be out of a job by the end of the day.  The Post doesn't stand for that."

"Good."

Charlie swallowed hard.  I can handle this.  As long as they don't talk over details of… I can handle this.  Zoey noted his face going grey, and tightened her grip on his hand. 

"Dad," she said.  "Charlie and I are gonna go for a walk, if you don't mind?"

Bartlet snapped a quick, knowing look toward Charlie's face, and nodded.  This was information that Charlie needed to know, but he didn't need to be informed in the midst of a group.  Zoey coaxed Charlie off the couch and walked with him out the door of Leo's office, hearing Toby's question just as they stepped over the threshold.  "Hey, what happened to the French guy, anyway?"

Charlie and Zoey quickly made their way to the Residence and Charlie's room, and she sat beside him as he sank to his bed.  God, this is so hard.  Deena… It's taken her out of my life, but somehow perversely brought Zoey back into it… and now it's grown to involve the disappearance of a Jewish coroner?  Can someone please explain this?  I can't make sense of this.  Need to get out of this room. 

"I need to get out of here," he said. 

"Well, then," Zoey said.  "Grab your coat and we can take a walk in the Rose Garden."

Charlie stood and slipped his coat on and his hands slid into his pockets out of habit.  On the right-hand side, he felt the paper of the envelope that he'd forgotten in the midst of everything else.  Without thinking, he removed the envelope and, after turning it over in his hands a few times, he slid the contents out.  At first, his brain refused to acknowledge what he was seeing, then the envelope and its message dropped from numbed fingers onto the bed and the sound of unmitigated rage coming from his throat blended with Zoey's blood-chilling scream.

TBC…