Return Interrupted
"Folks, this is Captain Peters in the cockpit," the voice of Air Force One's pilot called out over the speakers. President Josiah "Jed" Bartlet looked from the paper he was reading and looked in the direction of the nearest speaker. "We are about to begin the second part of our descent from 25,000 to 10,000 feet in preparation for our approach to Andrews. The local time is 2:05 a.m. Eastern."
Bartlet turned his attention back to the paper in front of him. He had decided to read some papers to relax his mind after leaving the Democratic National Convention and the battle over who would be the Democratic candidate for President. It was part of the briefing paper on the history of the Air Forces until recently secret space shuttle program. As he read and listened to the sound of people talking outside the wooden door with the Presidential seal on the outside, he couldn't help but think about the three men, two of them American, who were now trapped over 150 miles above him, trapped in a floating piece of metal that was likely to become their tomb.
Then came a knock at the door. Bartlet closed the folder where the file sat and said, "Come in." The door opened and his daughter Zoey stepped in. Bartlet took off his reading glasses and tuned towards his youngest daughter with a smile on his face. "Aren't you up late, Zoey?" Bartlet said in a sarcastic tone.
Zoey smiled and shut the door. "Well I was just coming by to say hi." Zoey said with an innocent tone to her voice. Bartlet looked into his daughters eyes and could tell there was something going on behind them. It took a moment before Zoey even realized what was going on. "You want me to sit down, dad?"
Bartlet nodded and said in a semi-serious tone, "Yeah." Zoey smiled and walked across the white carpet over to the two chairs in front of her father's desk and sat down in the one on his left. Zoey pulled her brown hair back behind her shoulders and sat in a moment of silence some 25,000 feet above southern Virginia. "How are you feeling?" Zoey asked as her father took the folder from his lap and put it in front of him on the desk.
"Just fine. A little tired." Bartlet responded as he leaned back in his chair and took his cane in his right hand. "I'm surprised that your mother isn't all over me about not sleeping." Bartlet said in a tone that all too serious. The air in the office (if indeed you can call it an office) thickened up for a moment before Bartlet spoke again. "Mom told me about Charlie being in your room the other night."
The smile dropped from Zoey's face. Her long-standing relationship with Charlie Young, the one time personal assistant to the President who was now a trusted member of the White House staff, had progressed to the point that Zoey was sure that he was on the verge of proposing and guessed that the only reason he hadn't was because her father, Charlie's boss, hadn't give him his blessing. On the outside, Zoey appeared flustered because she didn't know what to say. There was yet another moment of silence before Zoey responded back, "Yeah he told me you'd said something to him."
Bartlet sighed and leaned forwards in his chair. "You know, if you two want to get married, I really don't have a problem with that." Bartlet said as he sat down the cane and crossed his arms. "As a matter of fact, Charlie and I spoke about it the other day."
Zoey looked at her father and smiled. The flustered look disappeared and the face of the daughter he had always known returned. "Are you sure that mom would approve?" Zoey asked almost laughing at her embarrassment.
Bartlet smiled. "Well, that I don't know about. I really don't know if your mother would really like to have your wedding at the White House." Both Bartlet and Zoey laughed at the same time that another knock on the door came. They stopped and turned towards the door. "Come in."
The door opened and Secret Service Agent Ron Butterfield, followed by Chief of Staff C.J. Cregg entered and shut the door. "Good morning to the both of you. What's making you burn the midnight oils?" Bartlet said sarcastically as he put his reading glasses back on.
"We have reason to believe that a civilian airliner onit's way from New York to London has been hijacked and is headed this way." Butterfield said in a calm voice as they stood by the door.
"I've got the National Security Advisor on the phone. She wants to declare a terror alert." C.J. said as silenced gripped the room and Bartlet picked up the red phone on his desk.
