Title: The Road Back
By: Thumper
Rating: PG-13
Character: Leo-centric, but sooner or later everyone will come out to play
Spoilers: Everything up to "Third Day Story"
Disclaimer: "The West Wing" and all of its characters are the property of WB and Aaron Sorkin. They're not mine and I make no money from this
Feedback: Always appreciated )
A/N: Sorry this has taken so long, but hopefully I'll be able to post with a little more regularity now. This chapter only goes up to about the first half of "Third Day Story" and chapter to should finish that ep up. After that this series should start heading into AU.
The Road Back
Chapter 1: Off-Balance
The problem wasn't that Paul van Hausen couldn't quit smoking. To the contrary, the fact that he had quit six times in the last two months proved how adept he was. He had managed to get through his first four years with the Secret Service without it being a problem but when April got pregnant, he knew he'd have to quit or at least keep it down to one or two a week. It was during one of these indulgences that he came to find Leo McGarry.
The president had already left Camp David and the staff and foreign delegates were not that far behind. Van Hausen was attached to the advance team and would also have to return to Washington for his next assignment but he wanted a smoke before the drive back. He looked up. It was getting on toward noon but there was still quite cool.
April catches even a whiff of smoke in the car and she'll have my head, the young agent chuckled as he walked past the presidential cabin. He started to light up on the bridge but then remembered that his partner Jonsey would be by and was apt to give an even more stern lecture than April. He pocketed the cigarette and walked about twenty yards deeper into the forest for some privacy.
When he found a spot he lit up and took a few drags. Paul wasn't what you would call a nature lover but he wanted to take a few moments to admire the beauty. Not being actually detailed to the President meant that he could steal some time to admire some of the places he visited, even if only for a few minutes. Here in the woods, the trees provided a nice shade in which he could relax.
He was about halfway done when he first heard it.
Ring Ring
Van Hausen's first thought was that he must have been hearing Jonsey's phone back by the cabins, but as the wind settled and he heard the ring again he knew it was definitely coming from deeper in the woods. "Great," he muttered. "These guys could hold the future of the middle east in their hands but they can't keep up with their damn phones."
Ring Ring
He carefully put his cigarette in his out and began to follow the sound of the phone, almost tripping while trying to negotiate a fallen tree. As he closed in he thinks about how they don't get paid enough to catch a bullet and run a lost and –
Oh, holy hell.
"Anything?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"Try him again."
"Josh . . . "
"Try him again, Toby."
The Communications Director sighed as he called Leo's cell phone again. They had been on the road back to the White House for about a half hour and from the moment they had set foot in the car Josh had Toby calling the Chief of Staff. "If he didn't pick up just now . . . "
"Just leave him a message this time," Josh said, his hands tightening on the steering wheel slightly.
Toby understood part of Josh's nervousness. After all, you would have to be blind not to have seen the way the president and Leo have been drifting apart over how to respond to the terrorist attack on the CODEL in Gaza. Leo -hell, everyone - wanted the President to strike back militarily, but Bartlet stood firm. No one expected, though, the president to be able to pull together the Israeli and Palestinian leadership for a summit at Camp David, much less to get them to agree to a deal. But there was a catch, a big one. About "18,000 American troops" big.
Toby had expected Leo to blow his top right there in the Presidential cabin when they told him about Kate Harper's plan, but he should have known better. He simply asked the president if he could speak to him outside. Toby thought things might be okay, but when the president came back in alone, he started to get a little nervous.
"...it's just that he seemed a little upset earlier," Josh's voice pulled him back from his thoughts.
"Huh?"
"I said that I'm not worried about the signing. But he did seem a little upset last time I saw him."
"Yeah," Toby muttered
"I mean, when I got back from Germany he was still at the White House and . . . "
"Josh . . . ," he Toby wasn't sure if he should be having this conversation. "You know how the President is. He wanted this and Leo would've talked him down. He didn't want to hear it."
"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of." Josh hesitated, drumming his fingers on the wheel. "Something happened out there, Toby. He didn't even come back inside."
So, the speech writer thought, I'm not the only one who has a bad feeling about this morning. He could have pressed Josh further, but he knew what the younger man was afraid of. Josh knew Leo during the bad old days of his drinking and Toby knew that those memories must be preying on his friend now.
No, Toby didn't want to have this conversation, but they were in it now. "So you think, what, the President fired Leo?" he asked incredulously.
"I don't know," Josh said a little too quickly, but Toby knew that was exactly what he was thinking. That and the effect such an event could have on his emotional state. The Deputy Chief of Staff then glance over to looked his friend in the eye. "But this job is Leo's life, Toby." He just nodded his head. There was nothing else to say.
Josh turned back to the road. "Call him again."
"Yeah," Toby returned to dialing without having to be told twice.
No Answer.
Damn.
Paul never would have thought the day would come when he was thankful that his old man had a heart attack, but lo and behold, here it was.
Okay . . . think, dammit!
McGarry looked bad. Van Hausen knelt down next to him and touched a hand to his face. Jesus, he freezing. Indeed if it wasn't for the groan that Paul's touch had induced, he would have easily pegged the Chief of Staff as dead.
Paul first checked for a pulse. It was erratic and his breathing was very shallow, bordering on a wheeze. His hand went to his pocket for his cell phone he cursed when he found it empty. Must have lost it going over that damn log. He considered going to look for it when the insistent ringing of the older man's phone made him realize he had one less then two feet away.
Without a second thought he reached over and quickly open and shut the cell, cutting off the incoming call. The secret service agent knew that there was probably a more courteous way to handle this but right now he needed the phone line clear. He thanked God when the phone finally connected.
"Jonsey . . . just shut up and listen for a second," Paul interrupted his partner. "Look I'm in the woods, about 100 yards from the President's cabin. The Chief of Staff is here; it looks like he's had a heart attack. Pulse is thready; there was some movement a minute ago but he's been unconscious before and since. I don't know long he's been here but he's wet and pretty cold." He looked around and tried to spot some markers to guide the rescue team in by.
"Alright, try and see if the president's med team is still around, not likely but give it a shot. If there gone, get the local guys. Either way get who you can to come down here to help me. Find the foot bridge, the green one and go of into the woods about, uh . . . " he looked up to the sun to try to get his bearings. ". . . slightly southwest. After about 100 yards, go ahead and try calling out, and keep an eye out ahead of you for a big fallen log. We're around there. Alright, see you in a few."
He tossed the cell on the ground and went to work on his next task: Keeping Leo McGarry alive for another 15 minutes. Paul checked him over again and paled when it appeared McGarry's heart had stopped. He checked again for breathing and came up with nil. Immediately his training and experience with his own father's heart attack kicked into gear. The young man began to strike Leo's chest again and again, grimacing as he heard the sound of what could only be ribs breaking. Paul kept thinking about his father; the paramedics did the same, trying to use the force of the blows and chest compressions to shock the elder Van Hausen's heart back into starting. They had saved his father's life. Now if he could do the same here.
There it was, a heartbeat. It's weak but it's there, he thought.
"Ugh . . . no."
Paul knelt down to close. "Hold on Mr. McGarry, help is gonna be here any minute."
He looked down into Leo's eyes, expecting to see the haze of delirium. He was, instead pierced by that sharp blue gaze. He was conscious.
"No . . . please, stop," Leo rasped. "Just . . . stop."
Van Hausen was again slammed into memory; his mother this time. When the doctors found the cancer in her uterus, it was already too late. He still remembers the times he saw her in the hospital, the tube that delivered drugs in a laughable attempt to dull the pain. Most of all, he would remember the look she would get in her eyes when a doctor or a nurse would come in to check on her: resigned pain with an under current of fear. Fear that they would continue to prolong her pain.
It was this look that he saw in Leo McGarry's eyes. The agony he was going through was unmistakable, but even through that Paul could see that he didn't want to be saved; he wanted everything to end.
"Please . . . " Leo tried again in a stronger voice. ". . . don't."
Paul knew what the older man wanted the same way he knew what his mother wanted. But unlike before he didn't have to struggle with ths decision; it had already been made for him. He took Leo's hand and looked into that cool gaze. "I already put the call in. The paramedics are on the way."
Leo simply let his head fall to the side, a look of intense despair slicing across his pale features. "No . . . "
Paul had no idea what to say, but fortunately that had been taken out of his hands too. He could hear the paramedics running up behind him.
As the car sped to Bethesda, she realized that she has never felt so helpless in her life.
When Zoey had been taken, Abigail Bartlet's world had plummeted into a chaotic mire of fear and anguish. She went from reminiscing over her youngest child's life to having to deal with the very real possibility that her life could be over. She was hysterical, needing to be sedated, and had maintained a constant watch of CNN and the other networks, afraid that she might miss some fact or clue that could save her baby.
Yet as helpless as she was in this fog of panic, Abbey fought back where she could. Her aborted foray into the pressroom and even her lashing out at Jed, Leo and the rest of the staff were the First Lady's clumsy, desperate attempts at reclaiming control, at beating back that fog. Those hellish days and the weeks that followed in Manchester were not her proudest moments, but at the time she saw it as a way to take back control.
But since her husband had told her about Leo's heart attack, she didn't even have that. There was no one to rail against, no one to fight. All she had was the knowledge that her friend could be dying and there was nothing she could do about it. Oh, she knew what was happening. She could understand the situation, make reasonable predictions, and explain things to her husband and the others. But she couldn't do anything.
The First Lady glanced at the President and tightened the grip on his hand. Abbey understood that Jed and Leo's friendship went deeper than most. They complemented and balanced each other in a way that most would never understand. She also knew her husband, knew the way his mind worked. Jed was an intellectual at his core. Every event had a cause. Action, a reaction; and if the equation didn't balance then you just weren't trying hard enough. Right now he was looking for a cause to all this and if everything else failed he could always blame himself.
No, words wouldn't be enough right now. She simply held his hand tighter and tried to give Jed some comfort with her presence.
Hands touching him, bringing him back. He's deep in the haze, but he can feel the hands. No . . .
". . . be all right, Mr. McGarry." He couldn't hear. The voice was hanging somewhere just beyond his reach. But Leo just wanted to go back to where he was.
"Mr. McGarry, can you hear me?" Leo gave a faint nod, it was all he could do. The doctor smiled down at him and he found it slightly reassuring. "Good. Sir, you've had a heart attack and have been unconscious for some time. You're at Bethesda Naval Hospital and I'm Colonel Stewart, but you can call me Stu. We have the best thoracic staff so you're gonna be in . . . " The rest of what the colonel said was lost in the blinding haze of pain as Leo sank back into the darkness.
"Jed . . . ," Abbey was about to try to reassure her husband when she was interrupted by Charlie's cell.
"Hello?" he listened for a moment and then passed the phone to the First Lady. "Mrs. Bartlet? It's Dr. Stewart."
"Thanks, Charlie," she said as she took the phone. "I'm here Connie." Conrad Stewart had attended medical school with Abbey, staying a close friend over the years. He was also the best thoracic surgeon on the East Coast and very likely Leo's only hope. "Talk to me." She listened on the phone, asked a few questions and silently hung up when she got her answers.
Jed Bartlet watched as his wife folded the phone shut and handed it back to Charlie. Aside from the initial report from the Secret Service, no one had much information on Leo's condition. But Stu was going to call Abbey to let them know the situation upon his best friend's arrival at the hospital. Judging by the alarmed tone of the conversation and the slight trembling of her hands, the president gathered that the news was not good.
"Jed . . . he's alive but," Abbey turned to him and took his hand. "It was a heart attack, a bad one. And they think that he was unconscious for a long time. They got him to Bethesda but he went into arrest again as they brought him in . . . " she looked down and continued to stroke his hand.
When he finally trusted himself to speak, Jed asked the question that he had been dreading. "What are his chances of getting through surgery?"
She rested her gaze on him again. "It's not good, Jed. They think that he was out there since early this morning." She paused again to try to blink back tears that where already running freely. "My God, Jed, I don't even know how he's still alive. Every minute causes damage to the heart muscle. As time goes on . . . "
She goes on and he nods in all the right places and asks all the right questions but he isn't seeing her. He's back on that bridge with Leo, looking into his best friend's eyes before he went back into the cabin. That look of hurt and betrayal that has haunted him today and will probably do so for the rest of his life.
When steps out of the limousine at Bethesda the sun is beating down on them but in truth Jed Bartlet has never known when he felt so cold.
They were about an hour out from D.C. when Josh's phone rang. They had switched places a while back which suited Josh fine because he could take over making the calls. So far he had been on the phone to the National Security Advisor, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and some key members of Congress. He still had to the Speaker but he would rather talk to Leo first. The Chief of Staff had a meeting with Haffley before driving up to Camp David and would be able to advise Josh of any pitfalls to watch for in the discussion. Josh brought the phone up to call his boss yet again and nearly jumped out of his seat when it rang in his hand.
"Yeah," he answered.
"Josh, it's CJ," the Press Secretary's voice came in over the line. Josh mentally kicked himself. There had been a few developments to the plan since in the last couple hours and he forgot to check back in with her.
"CJ, good. I needed to talk to you. Listen, were gonna need all the press' attention on the signing. Anything -- I mean anything – that's gonna draw away from that; I want you to shove it in a drawer. Also we're gonna need –"
"Josh . . . ," something in the tone of his voice stopped him dead in his tracks.
"What's going on, CJ?"
"It's about Leo. He . . . he's"
Drunk, he finished in his mind. You knew it might come to that and you still walked away. Good one, Josh. I guess that's what sons do for old friends of their fathers.
"Where is he?" Josh's voice was just above a whisper now.
"Security found him out in the woods. It looks like a heart attack."
"What?!" The news hit him like a sucker punch to the gut: painful and unexpected.
"I just got the call from the secret service, he's been airlifted to Bethesda Naval Hospital but I just got a report that there was some trouble on the way in."
"Trouble? Wha . . . what kind of trouble?" Josh stammered
"I don't know, I'm just getting it," CJ replied.
By this time Toby gleaned from Josh's side of the conversation that something was wrong. "What the hell is going on?"
"Leo had a heart attack," Josh answered, closing his eyes.
"Jesus," Toby muttered under his breath. This shouldn't be that much of a surprise, he thought to himself as he turned on the junction. He's not a young man anymore and the White House isn't exactly a relaxing atmosphere to be working in. Still, the idea that Leo was sick just seem right. It was Leo they were talking about.
"CJ," Josh's insistent questioning brought Toby back to the present. "Does the President know yet?"
"Yeah, he just took off with the First Lady," she sighed. The looks on the First Couple's faces when the rushed by her made her wonder for the first time if her boss was going to make it.
"Okay . . . ," the Deputy whispered to himself. Think Lyman, think! You've got to step up now. You're in charge.
"Josh? Josh, what do you wanna do?"
He turned to Toby for the first time. "How far out are we?"
"'Bout forty minutes," the older man replied.
"Toby and I are gonna get there in about an hour." He noticed the car had accelerated considerably since the conversation had started and Josh was just hoping they would get there in one piece. "Keep me updated on his condition and we'll figure out a way to release the information when we know more. Has anyone contacted Mallory?"
"Christ, not yet," CJ swore softly. "I'll get –"
"No, I'll do it," Josh cut her off.
"Are you sure? I could –"
"No. It should be me."
"Okay. I'll see you soon," CJ said.
Josh said goodbye and held his cell with shaking hands. Toby knew what was coming next. "I knew it . . . "
"Josh . . . "
"Dammit, I knew it!"
"Look, at this point we don't know anything. Don't bury him yet."
"Right." Josh took a breath and dialed the number to Leo's office. "Hey Margaret . . . yeah, I've heard. How are you doing? ... Good, he's gonna be okay. Listen, I need the number to Mallory's cell."
Time is muscle. That's what Abbey had told him anyway.
Jed walked over from his perch by the window and sat down at the table they had set up for him in the waiting room. He had never much like hospitals. He remembers waiting with John as his father lay dying and he remembers his own time here after Rosslyn. Both instances failed to make a positive impression.
"I just talked to Josh," Abbey said as she sat down next to him. "He broke the news to Mallory and she's on her way." Jed merely grunted in response. Part of him was still waiting for the explosion. When he told her about firing Leo he couldn't even look at her, couldn't take that shocked look on her face. He wanted fireworks. He wanted her to yell, to scream, to call him a jackass. But she hadn't done any of that and he didn't want to spend too much time on the fact that it was probably because she thought it would make him feel any worse if Leo died. He wasn't prepared to entertain any thought that ended with Leo dying.
"Did he say how she was?" He asked
"No, but considering that her father just suffered a massive heart attack, I think upset is going to be a safe bet," the First Lady replied.
They sat quietly for another five minutes before Jed couldn't take it anymore.
"Don't you even want to know why?" he asked.
"I know why," Abbey whispered. "You wanted this to work. You needed it. And he would have talked you down."
"Yeah," he fumbled with his hands for a few moments, still neglecting to look at her. "It was just . . . he made me so angry, Abbey. I didn't realize I could . . . " He stopped and placed his hands on the table, turning to look at his wife for the first time since she sat down. She could tell it was an effort for him. "He said I was gun shy. At Camden Yard, he said I was gun shy. And I just . . . felt this rage well up in me and I thought – I can still remember it, clear as day – I thought 'you son of a bitch, it's because of you that I killed a man. It's because of you I almost lost my little girl, and you wanna call me gun shy? "
Abbey had no idea what to say to that. She'd had the same thoughts, of course, but she'd also had time to work through them in the past year. Jed and Leo however probably would have swept any unpleasantness between them under the rug. Jed's resentment over Zoey and Leo's pain at being shut out over the past year would have been just a few of the things festering between.
"I just wanted to show him that I could do this," he continued on. "But, if had known . . . "
Abbey quickly wrapped her arm around her husband's shoulders and whispered against his temple. "Shh . . . now is not the time to do this to yourself, Jed." She knew it would be useless at this point to tell him that this wasn't his fault. He would have to come to that conclusion himself. For now she tried to appeal to his need to help others. "Leo needs you."
"Leo needs me?" The President laughed bitterly. "That's a riot. When you look at the evidence of the last twenty-four hours, I would think I'm the last thing he needs."
"I told you, Mallory is coming and she's gonna need at the support she can get. Leo would want us to take care of her," she planted another kiss on her forehead.
"You're right," he whispered. "I've screwed up so much; I can't let her down, too."
Fortunately, traffic was light and she could get to Bethesda in about thirty minutes. Thank God for small favors, she thought to herself.
When the call came from Josh, Mallory did not cry. Lord knows she wanted to. When she was told about her father's heart attack, she wanted to sit down on the ground and sob, but that wasn't what a McGarry did. McGarry's handled problems with poise and strength. She had learned this lesson from both of her parents, albeit in different ways.
Whenever Mallory even thought of the word poise, an image of her mother popped into her mind. Though they sometimes clashed, she truly admired her mother. Jenny McGarry tried her best to hold a marriage together during some very difficult times. To compound things, she had to do it as a politician's wife. She helped her husband fight against his addictions and his enemies. Despite his addictions, her father had shown her strength. Growing up she watched him try to make the world a better place, to fight for what he believed. After rehab, she saw him fight again to reclaim his life and his family.
As she turned her car off the freeway, she tried to steel herself. Mallory realized that she was going to need that strength now because her father was going for round three. And God help her, she wasn't sure how much strength he had left in him.
Toby walked along the corridors of the West Wing, his brow furrowed. He had left Josh to make the calls and gone to speak to Charlie in at his desk just outside the Oval. He had come back to pick up some files and call sheets to take back to the hospital. Toby could see the younger man was shocked just like all the rest of them, but he was taking it pretty well. They talked over how the president's schedule was shaping up for the day before Charlie had to take a call.
He was just gotten about halfway to his office when he heard a strange sound. It reminded him of a kind of choking sound and it didn't surprise him that it seemed to be coming from Margaret's office. He cautiously stepped through the door but he didn't see the redhead anywhere. He was about to write it off as his imagination when he heard that muffed gasp again. He looked to the connecting door to Leo's office. There was no question as to where Leo's assistant was now.
"Margaret?" Toby whispered as he stepped into Leo's office, softly closing the door behind him. In addition to the other two doors being closed, the lamps had been turned off, casting the usually dim office into near total darkness. Only the thin bands of light creeping through the blinds allowed him to see Margaret sitting on the couch, sobbing as if her heart would break.
She didn't seem to hear Toby so he spoke again, softly so as not to startle her. "Margaret? Are you ok?"
It was a silly question, he realized, but he could think of nothing else to say. How could she be okay? Other than Josh, the President and Abbey, she knew Leo McGarry longer than any of them. She had worked with him day in and day out for almost thirteen years. They shared a bond unique only to them.
She tried to get up, act as if nothing had happened. "Um, Toby. I'm sorry. Did you need something?"
He crossed the room and was at her side in a flash. "Yeah," he said as he guided her back to the couch. "I need you to sit down and take a couple of deep breaths"
"I'm okay. I just –"
"Margaret, sit down," Toby ordered.
They sat there for a few minutes, neither of them talking. She wasn't sure what she wanted to say and he didn't want to push her.
"I don't know what happened," she finally whispered when she trusted her self to speak. Her breaths were coming out in slight gasps and Toby could see that she was trembling. He put his hand on her back, letting her know that he was there for her and she turned to him for the first time and smiled softly.
"I was just finishing up in here," Margaret breathed. "You know, getting the stuff that still needed to be take care of farmed out. I was clearing off his desk when . . . I don't know, all of a sudden I couldn't breathe." She clutched the files more tightly to her chest.
"It's okay," he whispered. "It's hitting all of us hard."
"I . . . " she looked at the empty chair behind Leo's desk. "It's not right. He's been through so much Toby, so much to get back here, to get his life back." She looked back down to the floor, unable to look him in the eye while making the next admission: "I can't lose him."
"You won't. He's a fighter. He fought for all this, he's not gonna miss it."
Margaret thought this over. She thought about all the times that Leo had been down and counted out. And she thought about all the times he had come back. I just have to hold on to that, to the knowledge that he's come through before.
"You gonna be all right?" Toby was watching her intently.
"Yeah, I'll be fine," she stood up, a bit more steadily, and he followed suit. "I just need to get back to work." Margaret tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. "You should, too. I somehow think the White House Communications Director has bigger fish to fry than a weepy assistant," she smiled and moved past him to go back into her office, but Toby caught her wrist and pulled her into a hug.
"You care about him, Margaret," he whispered. "Don't ever be afraid to care about someone, to show that you care."
"Thanks, Toby," she said as they broke the embrace.
"No problem," he replied as he left her office. "Now get back to work. I've got bigger fish to fry than a weepy assistant."
"Is there anything else I can get for you, Ma'am?"
Donna Moss looked tried to look up at the man who had just wheeled her into the room "No, thank you, I'm fine." She had just arrived at Andrews Air Force Base and the powers that be decided to
keep her in one of the base dorms until Josh came.
"Very well, ma'am," he flashed her a small smile. Donna thought the airman had a nice smile. He had been so serious looking when they met after she got of the plane. She would probably kid Josh about it when he picked her up. She knew he had a mini-implosion when he met Colin in Germany.
"I'm in the office downstairs, so if you should need anything you can just dial #1," Carter said. "Mr. Lyman called and said he would be here to pick you up in about two hours."
Donna couldn't help but smile to herself. Josh was so adamant about bringing her home. He swore up and down that he wouldn't be late. "Okay," she said. "And thanks again."
"Not a problem, ma'am. And welcome back," Carter said as he walked out the door.
Donna just sat in her chair for a few minutes, staring out the door after her escort. Welcome back. She knew it was a simple pleasantry but it was something in the way he said it. Since she had left the hospital, she had noticed it in others to. People kept treating her like she was a hero. And part of her felt a little uncomfortable.
Donna moved her chair to table to pick up the tv remote. She hadn't really watched any tv since the bombing but she didn't like the silence at that moment.
"– will have no impact on the new peace plan?" The tv was tuned to C-Span. Donna would have changed the channel but she saw that CJ was briefing and she was curious as to what how the press would take the news. She had been skeptical that the Camp David summit would yield any useful results but was pleasantly surprised when she got the call from Josh early this morning. Well, she didn't technically get a call. The message had been radioed up to her flight over the Atlantic Ocean along with yet another affirmation that he would be on time. She wondered how many strings he had to pull to make that happen.
"Yes, but CJ . . . " a reporter questioned. Donna couldn't remember his name. " . . . Leo McGarry is a one of this administration's most influential voices, and he had tremendous experience in military matters. What would you say to concerns that the President is about to lead this country into a perilous military operation without . . . appropriate guidance?"
"Well, Grady, I would allay said concerns by pointing out that surprise, surprise, the President has seven years of experience Commander-in-Chief of the world's most powerful military and the most brilliant minds in this nation's defense work for him. And while –"
Oh, my God, what could have happened to him? Donna turned the station. She knew from experience that CJ could string a reporter along for the remainder of the briefing without actually giving up any new information and if something had happened to Leo, information was exactly what she needed. Just please don't let it be alcohol; please don't let –
When she turned to CNN, there it was emblazoned in big, bold graphics: "White House Chief of Suffers Heart Attack."
Well, it looked like Josh might run a little late after all.
TBC