The following takes place between 1:00am and 2:00am on January 7th, 2002, in Washington, DC unless otherwise noted.
The President slammed his fist down on the Resolution Desk.
"Damnit!"
Leo McGarry nodded to Ryan Chappelle, who quickly disappeared from the room without a word. Leo slowly approached the President, leaving a foot of distance in between them.
"Sir."
"We were supposed to have McGann in custody hours ago, Leo! She was not supposed to hit the streets."
"We'll get her in time, sir," Leo assured him.
"How the hell did she get out of the station!"
"I don't know, Mr. President. We'll find out."
"We had all of security working on this. How could they let something like this happen?"
Leo could only nod silently in response.
"I want the head of security on the phone sometime in the next hour," Jed demanded.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Mr. President."
"Why the hell not? Because of him, my girls have been left wide open to an attack."
"First of all, that's not entirely true, sir. Second, talking to the head of security isn't going to change anything. Quite frankly, it's a waste of your time."
"What's not entirely true?"
"Your assessment of the situation in Baltimore," Leo replied. "There's no conclusive evidence to suggest the girls are in danger. To say nothing of the fact that all three of their details are present, McGann could be headed anywhere. She could be trying to throw us off. There's no telling what she's up to."
"Why doesn't that make me feel better?" Jed shook his head in disbelief. "First Abbey, now this."
"We're gonna get this under control, sir. The Baltimore PD has a location on McGann, and CTU's got field agents dispatched in the area. They're tracking her. She's not gonna get far."
"Why did Chappelle tell them not to hesitate, to go right in after her? That wasn't the original plan?"
"No, sir," Leo answered. "I'd have to confirm this with Chappelle, but my assumption is they were going to try to follow her and see if she leads us anywhere."
"You think that IRA has some kind of headquarters in Baltimore?" Jed asked doubtfully.
"It probably wouldn't be so much of a headquarters as a basement underneath a used bookstore."
Jed moved to the middle of the room and sat down on the couch, wringing his hands together anxiously.
"Leo, I swear to God, if anything happens to them…"
"Nothing is going to happen to them, sir. I have complete confidence in CTU, in the Service, and in the Baltimore PD. Colleen McGann may be Brendan McGann's daughter, but she is exactly that and nothing more. A novice at best. We'll get her."
1:07
Josh propped his feet up on his desk and leaned back in his chair. Donna sat in the chair before his desk and tossed an empty soda can into the wastebasket nearby. She folded her hands in her lap as her eyes aimlessly wandered around the room.
"What can I do? There has to be something I can do," Josh muttered.
She looked up.
"What?"
"About Stanley."
"What could you possibly do? The man is dead, Josh. There was nothing you could do to stop it, nothing you can do to change it."
"I hate being uninformed. You know how I hate being uninformed."
Donna furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.
"What are you talking about?"
"I want to be kept in the know as far as the investigation is concerned," Josh replied.
"It's one in the morning. I don't think there's much of an investigation going on as we speak."
"Yeah, but soon there will be, and I'll be kept in the dark."
Donna nodded pensively, her eyes glazing over in thought. One heavy, silent moment later, her face lit up and she squirmed in her seat.
"What?" Josh asked, monotonously.
"Have you ever read any of Margaret Truman's books?"
He wasn't sure he wanted to have any part of this particular conversation, but he had nothing to lose by appeasing her.
"…Harry's daughter?"
"Yeah, she wrote about a thousand mystery books set in Washington. Murder at the Potomac, Murder at the Supreme Court, Murder at Union Station, Murder at the National Cathedral, Murder at the…"
"At the what, Donna?" Josh asked, knowing full well what she was holding back.
"Murder at the White House."
"Okay. What about them?"
"In Murder at the White House, the Secretary of State was murdered in the Residence."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"I'm getting there, hold on. After the Secretary's murder, the President wanted someone from inside the White House working the investigation. So, he issued an executive order allowing for a member of his senior staff to head the investigation."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying, why don't you talk to the President and…"
Josh immediately shook his head.
"Oh, no. No. I can't do that."
"Why not? I mean, no one's saying you have to head the whole investigation, God knows you're too inexperienced for that."
Josh glared at her, and she continued unperturbed.
"Just work yourself into the investigation somehow. The President does a thing, the police include you in their investigation, give you some minor jurisdiction. That way they're still in control, but you're kept in the loop."
"What's in it for the President?"
"It's gonna get out that Stanley worked with both you and the President. By having someone represent the White House, it will show he's taking an active hand in the investigation."
Josh shrugged and shook his head uncertainly.
"I don't know, Donna."
"Just run it past him. What do you have to lose?"
"Well, for one thing, the President has bigger fish to fry right now."
"He's sitting his office waiting for information and yelling at Ryan Chappelle. I think he's got a few minutes to spare," Donna replied.
Josh stood up and placed his hands on his hips as he looked at his assistant.
"I can't believe I'm taking career advice from Margaret Truman."
1:15
When Abbey Bartlet had returned to the Residence a half an hour earlier, she waltzed straight into her bedroom. Without delay, she shed her business attire and jumped in the shower. Twenty minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom feeling refreshed and replenished. She donned a red silk bathrobe and tightened the tie around her waist then sat on the edge of her bed. For a few silent moments, she stared vacantly at the telephone before finally picking it up and dialing. She held it against her ear and waited impatiently for someone to pick up the other line.
"Hello?"
"Hi, sweetie."
"Mom."
Abbey could sense the relief in her middle daughter's voice when she breathed her name. She could also hear the commotion in the background when her other two girls realized she was on the phone. Ellie shushed them.
"Where are you? We've been trying to get a hold of you all night!"
"I've been around. Haven't been in one place for very long."
"Is everything okay?"
Abbey took a deep breath before responding.
"Sure. Everything's fine, honey."
Before Ellie could get another word in, the phone was snatched from her and Zoey's voice permeated the airwaves.
"Mom?"
"Zoey."
"What's going on? Why are the agents keeping us here? Is Dad okay?"
"Whoa, whoa. Calm down, sweetie. There's been a threat made against the U.S., Washington specifically, and they just want to get things under control before they let you leave, that's all."
"That's all?" Zoey asked in disbelief.
"That's all I can tell you, yes."
Seconds later, Liz's voice replaced Zoey's on the line.
"Why couldn't we get a hold of you earlier?"
"I'm fine, thank you, Elizabeth."
"Mom."
"As I told Elllie, I haven't been in one place for very long," Abbey explained.
"Why?"
"They…kept moving me around for safety reasons."
"I don't buy it," Liz said after a pause.
"It's the truth."
"It doesn't make sense."
"What doesn't?"
"All of it. Why would they be moving you around if there's an emergency? Why wouldn't they just put you in the bunker?"
Abbey could feel her oldest daughter's skepticism and knew immediately that her choices were limited. She was foolish to think she would be able to fool three such intelligent young women. She took a moment to prepare herself for their various reactions, then took the plunge.
"Honey, you want to put me on speaker phone please?"
She heard the change in noise immediately when Liz had done as she asked.
"The truth is, I've been at the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda." She paused to see if there was any reaction. When she was met with only an anxious silence, she continued. "There is a cyst on my left breast and I needed to have some tests done."
All Abbey could hear was their involuntary gasps and frantic, muffled whispers. As the product of two such articulate parents, it was rare that they were rendered speechless.
"It's probably nothing," Abbey said quickly.
"When will you know?" Ellie asked quietly.
"Sometime in the morning, I imagine. Give or take."
"Call us the moment you find out," Zoey demanded.
"I will, honey."
1:26
The Surgeon General hopped out of the cab after paying the driver and slammed the car door shut. She walked the few feet of sidewalk that separated her from the steps of her townhouse then stopped when she reached them. Her eyes surveyed the area suspiciously, scanning for minute details. The windows were closed. Despite the typical January chill in the air, she had left the windows open due to a little mishap in the kitchen. She had gotten up earlier than Leo, a major precedent, to make him breakfast. Things hadn't quite gone as planned and the result was a smell that not only woke Leo up, but sent him running out the door earlier than usual.
Cautiously, Millie ascended the cement steps until she noticed one of her potted plants was tipped over beside the front door. Maybe she was being paranoid. She must have closed the windows before she left for work and knocked over the plant while running away from the hideous odor. Of course.
She didn't bother rummaging through her purse to find her key, as she distinctly remembered leaving the door open in her race to escape the smell. But the doorknob wouldn't budge.
It was locked.
1:37
CJ and Hogan sat in the emergency room at GW in complete silence, observing the other ailing people that surrounded them. There appeared to be more than one broken arm, a old man with severe asthma, a teenager covering her ear with her palm, and a woman in the corner with a bloody nose that seemed never to stop. Hogan squirmed in her plastic seat uncomfortably and looked up at CJ.
"Aunt CJ?"
"Yeah."
"I think maybe we better go," Hogan whispered.
"Go? Why?"
"These people clearly need medical attention way worse than I do. I mean, look at them. My health isn't in jeopardy here."
"That, Hogan, is a matter of opinion," CJ replied.
"You know what I mean. Come on, let's go."
When Hogan stood, CJ immediately pulled her back down.
"No dice."
"We can come back in the morning."
"In the morning, I'm bringing you back to your father so unless you want to do this with him…"
"Okay, okay." Hogan leaned back in her chair and sulked. "Fine."
CJ reached over and covered her niece's cold hand with her own.
"I know you're scared."
"I'm not scared," Hogan answered defensively.
"Yes, you are. And it's okay. You're doing the right thing."
She looked up at CJ vulnerably.
"Then why does it freak me out so much?"
"Well," CJ sighed. "Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same."
1:45
"This is one of those times when I'm ashamed to be half Irish."
Charlie Young looked up and gazed across the room at Debbie Fiderer and squinted his eyes in confusion at her ambiguous, random statement.
"What?"
"I said, this is one of those times when I'm ashamed to be half Irish."
"When else have you been ashamed to be half Irish?" Charlie questioned dryly.
"Well, the day Lucky Charms first hit the shelves, for one."
Charlie turned back to his computer.
"Okay."
When Josh Lyman appeared in the outer office, his artificial high spirits were completely transparent.
"Did somebody say Lucky Charms?"
Debbie frowned.
"I bet you're the kind that only eats the marshmallows."
"That obvious, huh?" Josh responded.
"He's free, you can go on in."
"Thank you."
Josh continued on into the Oval Office and closed the door behind him. The President sat behind his desk looking over an Intelligence file that had just been sent over.
"Excuse me, Mr. President."
Jed glanced up over his glasses before taking them off and putting down the file.
"What's up?"
"Sir, what I'm about to ask you may seem a little bizarre and really, it is, being that the idea itself came from a fiction novel."
"I don't think I like the sound of this, Josh."
"Just…please hear me out, sir."
"Go ahead."
"To put it simply, sir, I would like to be included in the investigation of Stanley Keyworth's murder."
"Included how?"
"Involved. With your permission, I can work with the investigators assigned to the case and…"
"What are the benefits of this?"
"Well, I think that it's important, since Stanley worked with both of us, that we take control of the situation. By having someone represent the White House in the investigation, it shows we are on top of it. Also, sir, I don't know if this has been addressed previously, but is anyone considering that Stanley's murder may somehow be connected to the IRA threat?"
"No," Jed answered, after a moment. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"I'm agreeing to this, under one condition."
"Yes, sir," Josh said.
"I don't want you doing this alone. Pick two people to work with you. I don't care who, but consider both the political and personal ramification when you make your choices. Are we clear?"
"Yes, sir."
"Come to me when you've made your decision."
"Thank you, Mr. President."
As Josh exited into the outer office, Leo entered the Oval from the connecting door to his own office.
"What was that about?"
Jed sat down on the couch and began rubbing his temples methodically.
"Josh wants to get involved in Stanley's murder investigation."
"And?" Leo asked, sitting down across from him.
"I don't see why not."
"What's going on with Colleen McGann?"
"They're closing in on her."
"That's not good enough, Leo."
Leo nodded and observed the President's apparent exhaustion.
"Sir, maybe you should think about getting some rest."
"Or maybe I should think about protecting my country from Irish terrorists."
"At this point, there isn't much you can do and I think you know that. Why don't you go on up to the Residence and get a couple hours of sleep? If anything happens, anything at all, I won't hesitate to call you."
"Anything and everything, Leo," Jed said firmly.
"Yes, sir."
Slowly, he lifted himself up off the couch and strolled toward the door to the portico.
"Leo."
"Anything and everything."
"Understood, Mr. President."
After the President had left the office, Leo headed back into his own where he found Dr. Nancy McNally waiting for him.
"Nancy."
"Leo, we have a problem."
"That's surprising," Leo replied. "What happened?"
"We found the Irish Ambassador."
"Yeah. What's the problem?"
"We don't know how, but Sheridan managed to board a plane at Dulles."
"But we got him before it took off, right?"
"No," Nancy replied. "The aircraft is currently in flight."
"Where's it headed?"
"It's headed to Broadford Airport on the Isle of Skye in Scotland. From there, he no doubt plans to travel to Ireland."
Leo sighed and fell back into the chair behind his desk.
"Leo, this only confirms suspicions developed throughout the evening that Sheridan is involved. If Sheridan's involved, there's no telling who else has defected. We're gonna need to shut down the Irish Embassy and interrogate all employees."
"You got any good news for me, Nancy?"
"Not a damn thing."
1:59:57 1:59:58 1:59:59 2:00:00
