CHAPTER 5
January 22
1:28 AM EST. Streets of Washington D.C.
Donna was no athlete, but she didn't even notice the throbbing pain in her side. There was only one thought in her mind: He's alive!
She reached an intersection. As she ran through, barely slowing as the light turned yellow, she remembered what she'd said about not stopping for red lights if Josh was ever in an accident.
Mercy Hospital was about five blocks further. The crowd started a block away. Reporters and spectators were packed in, kept out of the building by FBI agents. Clutching the lanyard holding her White House ID, she shoved her way through the wall of people. The reporters found her almost instantly.
"Ma'am, I can see by your ID that you work at the White House. Are you personally acquainted with the injured White House staffers?"
"How do you feel knowing they are alive?"
"How do you feel about the deaths of the others?"
"How do you feel about the current lack of adequate security at the White House?"
"What are your plans for the future?"
Donna continued to shove her way through, ignoring the questions and the flashbulbs in her face. When she got to the front an agent stopped her. "I'm sorry ma'am," he said, "but you can't come in."
She showed him the ID. "My boss is in there." she said. The questions being fired at her became louder and more insistent.
The guard was hesitant. "What's your name?"
"Donnatella Moss."
"And your position?"
"Senior assistant to the Deputy Chief of Staff."
"Do you have proof?"
She showed him the ID. "I'm sorry, but that's not a photo ID. I'll need more."
"Like what?" she snapped.
"I'll call in for your file."
"My file? How long is that going to take?"
"An hour, two at the most. But we only have a few people there."
"Please! I just want to see Josh!"
"And you will. I just have to make sure you are who you say you are."
"So, what do I do until then?"
He shrugged. "Mingle?"
He was making a joke and Donna knew that, but that didn't stop her from slapping him across the face. He smiled and shook his head condescendingly. "Ma'am, I realize you're upset, but don't be taking it out on me. It's standard policy."
A red handprint was forming on his cheek. She glared at him, realizing that the crowd was oddly hushed. The photographers were still snapping. They'd probably gotten her slapping that agent. CJ was going to kill her.
"Ms. Moss," the agent said, "Let me call in for your file. If everything fits, which I'm sure it will, please accept the FBI's deepest apologies. But we're in the middle of a national emergency right now and we have to take every precaution with what little security we have. If you want, you can wait in one of our vans. You look freezing."
"Thank you." Donna said, trying and failing to keep her chin from trembling.
The agent radioed for someone. Another agent, a woman in her forties, approached. "Come with me." she said, leading Donna around the building. The agent elbowed a reporter in the face as he tried to snap their picture. It didn't look like an accident.
She brought Donna over to a black SUV and opened the back door for her. "What do you need to know?" Donna asked, a note of desperation in her voice. "I'll tell you anything. Please just let me in."
"We can't. I'm sorry."
She half-helped, half-pushed Donna into the car and closed the door behind her. She stayed there, guarding Donna against the flood of reporters that were approaching.
A cell phone rang. She let it ring for a second, then realized it was hers. Since when did she have a cell phone? She reached into her pocket and fished it out. It was Josh's. She must've taken it in the pile of papers she'd picked up off his desk. She wondered for a second why he hadn't brought it with him, then figured she should probably answer it.
"Hello?"
"Good, it is you. I wanted to come down but I'm worried about leaving Margaret alone right now." It was Carol.
"Isn't Charlie there?"
"Yeah, but the poor kid has a temperature of a hundred-four."
"They're not letting me in." Donna said, "They have to get my file."
"Your file?"
"So they know I'm not a terrorist. How's Margaret?"
"Torn up. I mean, we all are, but she won't move. She's not even crying anymore. Just staring…"
"Stay with her. I'll be back there later. We'll figure everything out."
"Okay."
Carol hung up. Donna did the same then leaned back, letting the reality of the situation sink in for real.
The President was dead. Sam was dead. Toby was dead. Leo, Mrs. Bartlet, everyone. Nearly the entire administration had been there. Tears started brimming her eyes again. She would never hear Toby yelling about, well, everything or tease Sam about his quirky ways. She'd never see Leo come storming into the bullpen to yell at Josh for doing something stupid again. Nor would she see all of them celebrating in the hallway after a successful speech or appointment. It was all gone.
But Josh wasn't. Neither was CJ. At least not yet. So what the hell was she doing sitting here while they were in there, possibly dying?
She looked out the tinted window. The agent was still there. There was no way she could get out without her noticing. The keys weren't in there, so she couldn't drive up. How could she do this?
Maybe she should just wait. It would only be an hour or two, he'd said. But then she thought of Josh in there, alone and in pain. If he was dying, she wouldn't let him die alone.
The door creaked slightly as she opened it and she held her breath. The agent was yelling at a reporter who had somehow managed to get by her barrier. Donna slipped out of the SUV and ducked down. Once she was sure no one was watching she broke into a run toward the crowd. The stunned agent followed but Donna soon lost sight of her in the mob.
She shoved some people out of her way and ducked others. An elbow smacked her nose and she felt blood running down her face. She kept pushing through and finally broke out at the front. This time she didn't stop. She jumped one of the cement barriers and dove through the open door. Nobody followed for a moment. Then she turned back and saw two agents following her.
A nurse walked out of the station and Donna grabbed her. "Tell me where they're taking the survivors!" Donna yelled, clutching the nurse's collar. The terrified nurse pointed down a side hallway and Donna let her go. With the agents tailing her she raced down the side hall.
Near the end there was an examination room filled with people. She shoved a linen cart out of her way and ran in. The doctors were too shocked to do anything but let her through. Several examination tables filled the room. She clutched the one nearest to the door, panting, and her eyes widened.
Josh was lying on the table. His face was bruised and swollen and his hair was matted and bloody. He was still wearing the suit she'd help pick out two weeks earlier (actually, she'd been the one to pick it, he'd been the one to complain that he was bored and when could they leave this stupid store?.) only now it was ripped, burned, and soaked.
"Josh?" she breathed, touching his hand, which was amazingly unmarked. He barely looked like Josh, burned and gashed like that. The only proof that he was alive was the steady beeping of a machine sitting next to him.
The agents that had been chasing her burst in and each grabbed one of her arms. "Josh!" she yelled as they dragged her out and down the hall.
The camera flashes blinded her when they got outside and once again she thought about how angry CJ was going to be.
