Leo had given up on the pretence of reading and was sitting back in his chair looking at his staff. They could all hear the President next door talking to Ron. Leo remembered how the President had referred to Sam and Josh as his sons once, and he started to think about Sam's parents. He was about to ask Josh if he knew if they were coming to DC, when his cell phone rang. He reached into his pocket and glanced at the display. He mumbled something and then yelled for Margaret to get Ron, before he pressed answer and held the phone to his ear.
"Who is this?" Leo asked.
Josh stood up and walked over to Leo's desk, arriving the same time as Ron.
"Let me talk to Sam?" Leo said. Toby and CJ were standing now and the President had followed Ron into the room. "That isn't going to happen, you can talk to me…yes…yes. Can I speak to him…how do I know that?" Josh spun away and walked to the other side of the room. "Well tell me, and then we can see about where we go from there." Leo started to scribble notes down. "I understand. You don't need to spell that out to me. I think I'm aware of what you plan to do." There was silence and then Leo switched off his phone and put it down slowly on his desk.
"It's just what they said to the Post. They want the two Colombian prisoners released before their trial." Leo sighed and sat down again. "They also want the President to announce that he is unable to offer any military or financial support to President Miguel. They said Sam is alive but they wouldn't let me speak to him."
"He's all they've got," Ron reasoned.
"So he's not…I mean they're…if he was already…" For the second time that day Josh felt Toby's hand on his shoulder and let himself be guided back towards the sofa.
The President came and sat down beside him. "I don't negotiate with terrorists. You know that, the media knows that and every terrorist group in the world knows that but still they…" His voice trailed off and Josh looked swiftly up at him. "We all know that, Josh, we knew it when we started here and although I don't think anyone here thought we would have to put it to the test so close to home, that's what we're doing now and the position doesn't change. I won't negotiate. But that doesn't mean that there aren't other avenues we can explore, does it, Ron."
"No sir, it doesn't," Ron said and smiled encouragingly at him.
"I'm sorry…I'm going to throw up," Josh mumbled as he stood and rushed from the room.
The tall man placed Sam's phone back on the table and smiled at him. "And let the games begin." He walked over to the other two men and started telling them in Spanish that everything was going according to plan and that they needed to lighten up.
Sam could understand every word. When they had finished speaking, he sat up as straight as he could. "El Presidente no negociará." He told them. It earned him another punch, but Sam thought it was worth it.
The agents hadn't finished in Sam's office by the time Toby returned. He sat at his desk and watched through the dividing window as they passed to and fro. Ginger came into his office and told him that she was still trying to get hold of Sam's parents. When she had left, Toby walked over to the window and watched the agents work. Files and papers lay strewn over Sam's desk. One agent sat reading them, occasionally adding some to a separate pile. Another man sat opposite the desk browsing the files on Sam's laptop. Toby walked out of his office and stood in the doorway to Sam's.
"Did Ginger give you everything you needed?" Toby asked.
"She gave us some documents from the Bullpen and your office. I think we've got it all, thank you, Mr Ziegler." Toby turned away and started back to his office but was called back. "Mr Ziegler, do you have a key to Sam's apartment?"
"No, I don't, Josh Lyman…he's his…Josh Lyman will have one." Toby walked away from the sight of Sam's orderly office being turned upside down.
Sam lay curled on his side, facing the wall. He tried not to think about what would be happening at the White House. He had told his captors that the President wouldn't negotiate and he knew it was true. The thought that they were unable to help was a chilling one. He told himself that he knew that the President would do all he could to get him out, but he also knew that in reality there was very little he could do. He thought that he probably should have waited longer until revealing he could speak Spanish. He decided to try not to think of anything. He started to list Congressmen in his head. He started with Abercrombie…Acevedo…Ackerman…Aderholt, but then he had to go back to Acevedo as the thought that he was going to die in this room kept intruding on his attempts to think of nothing at all.
Akin…Alexander…Allen…Andrews…Baca. Sam congratulated himself for getting to the B's without stopping, but he was unable to carry on with his list. The thought that he was going to die had taken hold and he could think of nothing else. He told himself that if that was the case, he would show them no fear, he wouldn't beg, he wouldn't plead with them. Sam felt encouraged by the thought that, even though he was bound and held captive, he could find some way to fight back. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the sound of shouting coming from the room next door. Bachus…Baird…Baker…Baldwin…
Josh's string of paper clips numbered over fifty. He had been working on it for quite some time. The cleaner had picked a few stray ones off the floor and handed them silently to him before vacuuming his office.
Toby stood in the doorway and watched Josh looping the metal shapes together.
"We're going to get a pizza or something."
"A pizza! Jesus, Toby!" The paperclips that he had been holding scattered across the desk.
"Right, Josh, let's stop eating, that's a good plan, because then we can all be exhausted wrecks when Sam gets back."
Josh snorted and opened his mouth to respond but then changed his mind. He wanted to tell Toby that he didn't think Sam was coming back. That he couldn't see how that was going to happen. But he knew it was fear talking, and he knew Toby wouldn't be very receptive to that right now. Instead, he brushed the paperclips back into the pot, grabbed his coat and followed him out of his office.
The pizza was on the house. The owner, who knew them well, insisted on it. Josh twirled the cheese around his fork. It had long since gone cold and was less stringy than it had been when he had started playing with the food rather than eating it.
"I've eaten pizza four times this week," CJ announced. Toby and Donna appreciated the attempt at starting a conversation but didn't reply. "I don't think pizza's like fruit, I don't think you're meant to eat five portions a day."
"I think we could have stopped them," Josh said. "I've been going over and over it, and I think we could have stopped them. I should have realised something was wrong…that man…the way he was unfolding that paper, and I think Sam knew too…if we'd done something then it wouldn't have happened…we could have done something to stop it." Josh had stared at his plate while he had been talking and he continued to stare at it.
"Are you talking about this afternoon or telling me about a movie you've just watched?" Toby asked incredulously. "You're describing things that we had a split second to react to, and anyway, in case it had escaped your notice, they had guns!" Toby's voice was rising dangerously. "By the time we'd realised something was wrong it was too late, didn't you see the big black van that pulled up and the two men that got out of it, the two men who were wearing masks and, by the way, had guns!" Toby shouted the last two words so loudly, that the other diners stopped talking and started to stare.
Josh stood up and reached past Donna for his coat. "Yeah, okay."
"Josh?" Toby said quietly.
"I said okay. I'm going to walk around for a while…get some air. I'll see you back at the office."
CJ watched him go and then turned to Toby. "I bet you've been thinking exactly the same thing as Josh."
"Yeah, but I know without a doubt that if I hadn't have stopped Josh this morning, you and Donna would probably be sitting here alone right now."
CJ placed a hand on Toby's arm. "I don't think we'd have gone for a pizza if you and Josh had died, but I get your meaning."
Toby smiled and stood up. "Come on, let's head back." He left a large tip on the table and all three of them walked slowly back to the White House. They talked about anything they could think of, because not one of them wanted to think about what might be happening to Sam.
The men's voices drifted into the bedroom. Sam was sitting against the wall, his knees drawn up to his chest. Listening to the conversation, Sam now knew that his captors' names were Mael, Incul and Javier. He thought the man who seemed in charge was Javier, but he couldn't be sure. He was certainly quieter that the other two men and his name hadn't been spoken as much as theirs.
Sam lowered his head onto his knees and closed his eyes. He thought about going to lie down but he didn't want to leave his space on the floor. He felt safer somehow, facing the door, sat curled up with his back to the wall. Sam looked up as the voices suddenly stopped. He could hear the kitchen door opening and footsteps outside his room. He could tell that two of the men were walking away and heard the sound of a door being opened and closed further down the hall. Silence followed, then the sound of something being dragged towards his room. Silence came again, and then the occasional sound of a bottle being placed on the floor and the rustle of a packet. Sam sat frozen for a long time. Eventually, he couldn't hear the bottle being placed on the floor or the packet rustling. Only when the sound of snoring drifted into the room, did Sam feel safe enough to go and lie down on the bed.
It wasn't the voices outside his room that woke Sam, but the beer bottle being knocked over, rolling along the floor and landing against the wall with a loud clunk. Sam sat up. The men laughed, the laughter of one them fading as he walked down the corridor. Sam didn't move and stayed sitting upright until once again there was silence. He lay down again and focused on his breathing. Ginger had taught him a relaxation exercise once but he couldn't remember it now. He settled for closing his eyes and trying to take slow, deep breaths. Sam didn't hear the key being turned in the lock, or the door being opened. It was only when the light from outside burst into the room that he opened his eyes and sat up quickly.
He squinted against the light as the figure moved towards him. Remembering the pledge he had made that he wouldn't show any fear, he didn't make a sound when he was dragged from the bed and dumped onto the floor. He tried to stand but his bound hands made it difficult to balance. The man didn't say a word, which made his presence all the more sinister. Sam made it to his knees, just before the first blow sent him hurtling back to the floor. He kicked out, but only managed to make his attacker lose his balance. When he had regained it, he kicked Sam in the stomach. Sam moaned but still struggled to his knees again. The man laughed as if he was impressed with Sam's efforts. He grabbed a handful of hair and pulled Sam's head back, "You're a fighter. Good. I like to fight."
The next blow sent Sam reeling back towards the bed, and Sam used it to once more help himself upright. He could feel and taste the blood that trickled down his face. He was grateful that the next three blows came in quick succession as he didn't think he had the strength to try to get up again. The man walked towards the open door and lit a cigarette. He stood smoking and watched Sam who eventually managed to crawl along the bed and climb back onto it. The man tossed the butt into the sink that still contained the water that had been used to wake Sam earlier. It sizzled, the door was closed and Sam was in silence and darkness once more.
Josh had slept at his desk and had woken to the sound of his phone ringing. When the call was finished, he went to find Toby and found him standing in the doorway to Sam's office.
"Do you think they got everything they needed?" Josh asked sarcastically as he took in the piles of paper that now cluttered Sam's desk.
Toby nodded towards his office and Josh followed him. "I just spoke to Sam's father." Josh started as he sat down, "He's going to stay in California until there's more news. Sam's mother is going to do the same. He said to tell you thanks for offering to sort out the flights and hotels. That was nice of you, by the way."
"Yeah, listen, I spoke to Ron this morning. They're not completely in the dark. There's been some intelligence about Colombian activity in Washington for some time now. I'm not saying they know where Sam is but they at least have places they can start to try and track these people down." Toby sat back and waited for Josh to answer. He had hoped the news would give Josh some hope or at least a little comfort, but Josh didn't look hopeful or comforted.
"I could have reached him in time-"
"Josh! We've been over this."
"He looked up at me, he knew something was wrong. He looked at me and I just wanted to go watch the game. If I'd gone over and got him, that man would have probably just walked away." Josh got up and walked over to the window.
Toby waited before answering, "You know, when you think of it, this is all Sam's fault. I mean, why didn't he walk away? Why didn't he call for help? He must have known that there was a debilitating powder in that piece of paper. What was he thinking just standing there letting them take him? Why didn't he fight back?"
Josh sighed and turned to face Toby. "Reverse psychology, clever. It hasn't worked."
Toby shook his head. "No, I didn't think it would. I have other tactics I can try, it just needs-" Toby stopped in mid sentence as the sight of someone in Sam's office caught his eye. Through the window he could see Larry sitting down behind Sam's desk. "What are you doing?" Toby bellowed through the window before walking out of his office and into Sam's.
"Sam was working on an opposition paper for Leo. He asked me to find it and see how far he had got," Larry explained but seeing the look on Toby's face he had already moved away from the desk.
"Leo asked you?"
Larry glanced at Josh, but he looked just as upset as Toby. "Yes, but I don't think he…" Toby had already spun round and was headed for Leo's office, closely followed by Josh.
Leo had known they would come, he was waiting for them. He listened to Josh somehow managing to accuse him of acting as if Sam wasn't coming back, without referring to Sam or the kidnap at all. Toby followed on and complained that Sam would just have to do it all again when he did come back. Leo stood and listened to the two irate men. While he waited for them to calm down, he realised that they had both revealed to him how they were going to cope with what was happening. Josh was going to live in fear, afraid to mention what might happen in case it came true. Toby was going to act as if Sam returning to them was an absolute certainty and the only problems that his absence and return would cause, were work related.
"We have to keep going. It's as simple as that. If either of you feel you are unable to do your jobs then we can sort something out, but that isn't going to help anyone. Josh, when you were in hospital, being operated on, Sam was doing the morning shows. I know one thing for sure, wherever he is now, he's not giving up, and I think if he knew that you two were carrying on like this about who was doing his work he'd be none too happy. So, let's get back to it, shall we!"
A few miles away, Sam lay on his side watching a spider make its way along the bed. He followed its progress along the coarse material and then along the metal head rail. When it had disappeared from view, Sam turned onto his back. The sudden pain made him wince. It was difficult to manoeuvre with his hands bound, but he managed to place his hands so that he could feel along his chest. He had broken a rib once before playing hockey and he recognised the pain now. He wasn't surprised, as he felt along his rib cage, when one appeared to give way beneath his touch. "Shit," Sam muttered, slowly sitting up. The room was cold and damp and Sam wasn't sure if his aching chest was due to that, his broken rib or simply anxiety. He rested his hands on his lap and leant against the head rail. He took a deep breath in, but it seemed to catch in his throat and resulted in a fit of coughing, which only served to worsen the pain caused by the broken rib.
He didn't hear the door being opened and jumped when it suddenly swung wide to reveal Incul standing with a plate of food. He walked over and put the plate on the floor, then grabbed Sam's chin and pulled his head up. He turned Sam's head from side to side as if admiring the bruises that he had made last night. He pushed Sam's head away and without saying a word, left the room. Sam sat on the bed breathing deeply. The anger he felt at the helplessness of his situation was matched only by his fear. When he calmed down, he bent over and picked up the plate. He recognised pasta but that was the only identifiable part of the meal. Eventually he worked out a system of wedging the plate between his leg and the pillow so that he could spoon the food with his bound hands. By the time he took his first mouthful the dinner was stone cold.
The President sat on the sofa in the Oval Office. He had a pile of files on his lap, and was holding one in his hand, but he wasn't reading it. Next door, Leo was doodling an intricate pattern next to his unfinished crossword in that morning's paper. Toby was writing furiously, his pen flitting across the page with a will of its own. Josh was sitting in the Mess, it had been closed for hours but when he had first gone in for a cup of coffee it had been heaving with people. CJ was sitting in the empty briefing room.
During the day they were able to keep busy and keep their minds off Sam as much as possible. But, as evening came and the chatter and business of the other staff disappeared, they were no longer able to avoid the thoughts and images that they had been trying so hard to avoid.
"Oh this is ridiculous," CJ muttered and she jumped up and went off in search of Toby. When she got to his office, Josh had clearly had the same thought and was sitting on the sofa. The only sound was of Toby's pen scribbling across the paper.
"What's he writing?" CJ asked in an exaggerated whisper.
Josh shrugged and pulled a face.
She turned to Toby, "What are you writing?"
Toby finished the sentence he was on, drew his pen twice across the bottom of the page and then finally looked up from his desk. "I'm re-writing sections of the President's speech, for the Colombian Dinner."
"Which sections?" Josh asked.
"Well, the sections where he says that he can't comprehend what it must have been like for the Colombian government when two of their key advisers were kidnapped last June. I think his comprehension of that is much improved now." Toby stood up and walked over to the window between his and Sam's office, "Also the bit where he talks about the terror of not knowing, and the fear of never finding out, I thought we've probably got that one pretty well covered too."
"I was sitting in the briefing room and I thought you might be able to distract me, Toby." CJ turned the pad over that Toby had been writing on. "I came here seeking company," she added.
"I came here seeking Bourbon," Josh said.
Toby drew his gaze away from Sam's empty desk and walked over to his. He pulled open the bottom drawer and took three glasses and a bottle from it.
CJ described to them the hazing of a new member of the press corps. Toby suggested they all go home. CJ stood up and Toby started to get his things together. But Josh remained seated.
"I can't stop thinking what Sam is doing, what's happening to him," Josh confessed quietly.
CJ and Toby both sat down again. They both knew they weren't going to get any sleep anyway.
Sam lay with his back to the door. He knew that Incul had just arrived to do his shift outside his room. Sam's chest felt tight, and he had to keep reminding himself to breathe deeply and slowly. His broken rib didn't cause as much pain when he lay on his side but his arm had gone dead so he reluctantly turned onto his back. Unfortunately the move caused another bout of coughing. He tried to muffle the noise in his pillow but when he had finished he heard the scrape of a chair being pushed back. Sam got to his feet and was standing by the end of the bed when Incul entered the room.
He walked over to Sam and stared at him for a while before slamming his fist hard into Sam's stomach. Sam fell to his knees. He didn't have time to even try to stand before another blow followed. Sam remained on his knees for as long as he could before he finally fell to the ground. He brought his hands up to protect his broken rib. Suddenly the attack ended and Incul walked quickly from the room. Sam rolled onto his back and squeezed his eyes shut, he had fallen and hadn't got up, but he hadn't cried out. Despite the severity of the blows, Sam had not made a single noise. That thought comforted him as he staggered over to the sink, threw up the unidentifiable dinner and then crawled back onto the bed.
The following morning, Josh sat in his office reading the papers. Donna sat opposite him scanning the front pages and handed the most relevant ones to Josh.
"The Post says, 'The first day of the trial of the two Colombians is going ahead despite speculation that the freeing of the prisoners was one of the demands of the FARC, the organization believed to be responsible for the abduction of Sam Seaborn, a senior member of President Bartlet's staff'."
"What's the opinion column say?" Josh asked as he put down the paper he had been reading.
Donna spread the broadsheet over the desk and flicked through the pages. "Bartlet's stand of non-negotiation to be tested in trying times," Donna read. "It goes on to question who is making the real decisions…there's a bit about Rosslyn…it says that Bartlet has proved himself able to act dispassionately in situations in which he has been personally affected, it says that he has made the decision for the trial to go ahead with the almost certain knowledge of the ramifications of that decision for Sam, there's a bit about-"
"Okay, that's… actually I don't care what it says." He looked at his desk which was covered with newspapers.
"You want me to fold all of these up, don't you?" Donna asked resignedly.
"Yeah, I'm going to see Leo." Josh walked out of the room leaving Donna to begin her struggle with the papers.
Josh knew something was happening as soon as he neared Leo's office. His stomach flipped, when he saw three agents standing in the doorway and Ron standing behind Leo. A technician was testing a machine that sat by Leo's phone. Josh stayed outside the room, seeing all he wanted to in the space between the two agents.
"Let them speak first, they will have more demands and more threats. Don't let them get to you. They'll try to upset you but just focus on what they are saying they want. You need to reiterate that the President is not going to negotiate. That is the only message that they need to get from this but leave them open to thinking there may be room to discuss alternatives. Tell them you want proof that they have Sam and that he's okay and that you won't continue discussions until you have that." Ron waited for Leo to reply.
"Okay, well you might want to write that down for me."
Ron smiled and took the pad that Leo held out to him. Leo ran a hand over his face and when he looked up he saw Josh peering over the agents' shoulders. He mumbled something to Ron and Ron walked over to Josh closing the door to Leo's office behind him.
"Josh," Ron greeted. "Leo is about to receive a call from the people who have Sam. They contacted us this morning after seeing in the papers that the trial is going ahead. Leo's pretty nervous and he's already got three agents and a technician listening to his every word." Ron smiled but Josh didn't return it. "Leo said he'll call you in when he's finished." Ron expected Josh to put up a fight but he didn't, he looked almost glad that he wasn't allowed to stay. He walked away from Ron and went back to his office where he sat down on the floor next to Donna and helped her to put the newspapers back into some semblance of order.
Leo stood behind his desk and read through the list that Ron had written out for him. The technician, Graham, was underneath his desk and Leo heard a polite, 'excuse me' as he made way for him to come out.
"It is working, Ron," Graham answered as he emerged. "I'm just saying that we should have connected it up to the other line and then we could have hooked it up via the internet."
Ron nodded distractedly, Graham was the best in his field of security and call tracing devises but he was also a perfectionist. Ron wasn't too bothered with how the thing worked as long as it could trace a call and record what was being said.
Graham started to crawl under the desk again and Ron caught a quick glance at Leo's face. "Graham, does that connection look loose to you?" Graham went scurrying off to the wall on the other side of the room to check the lead and Leo nodded his appreciation to Ron and sat down and waited. It was nine am. The trial was due to begin at two. He was just glancing at Ron's notes again when the first shrill tone of the phone made both him and Ron jump. Leo waited for Graham's nod before picking up the receiver.
"Leo McGarry."
Sam was sitting at the kitchen table, Javier was sitting opposite him. He looked at Sam as he spoke.
"Maybe you misunderstood, Mr McGarry, we demanded the prisoners be freed before, not after, the trial."
Sam could imagine how angry Leo would be feeling, and how hard he must be trying to refrain from saying what he really felt to Javier. He wondered who was in the room with Leo. He thought about the call the President had made to the man aboard the ship that night of the state dinner, how they had all stood around listening to the conversation. He wondered if Josh and Toby were in the room listening to Javier and Leo speak now.
"There has been no misunderstanding, the President does not negotiate with people using terror as a bargaining tool and that is not going to change now."
"Even when the terror is the threat of losing one of his own?" Javier asked.
There was a pause before Leo answered, "Even then, yes."
"We are disappointed that you are taking this stand but not surprised. There is still five hours for him to change his mind."
Leo knew this was his chance to stall. "A lot can change in five hours."
"Perhaps you are open to discussing this further?" Javier looked at Mael and nodded to indicate things were going well.
"Perhaps something can be arranged," Leo agreed. "But until we know for sure that you have Sam Seaborn and he is alive and well, I don't think there is any point continuing discussions."
"You will hear from him soon, but it won't be today. If that trial goes ahead I'm afraid he will be in no state for telephone conversations." With that, Javier hung up.
Leo, replaced the receiver and then picked up Ron's notes, screwed them into ball and threw them into the bin.