Hour Nine

The following takes place between 3:00am and 4:00am on January 7th, 2002, in Washington, DC unless otherwise noted.

"Am I gonna need to sit down for this, Nancy?"

"Do you normally like to be seated when you learn that a former senior advisor is engaging in terrorist activity?"

Without a word, Leo sat down in his chair and looked up at Nancy and Chappelle for answers.

"Okay."

Nancy and Chappelle exchanged wary glances.

"You want to…" Chappelle trailed off.

Nancy nodded.

"There's no easy way to say this, so I'm just gonna rip the band-aid right off. One of Colleen McGann's co-conspirators is none other than one Madeleine L. Hampton."

Leo frowned.

"Mandy?"

"Mandy," Nancy confirmed.

He sighed and leaned back against the couch, rubbing his throbbing forehead.

"Mr. McGarry, can you think of any reason why Mandy Hampton would be involved in such treason?" Chappelle questioned.

Leo shrugged.

"I guess Lennox Chase wouldn't give her her job back after we let her go."

Ryan Chappelle walked across the room and sat beside Leo on the couch.

"Is it possible that she harbors ill will towards this Administration?"

"I never really saw Mandy as the type, but I suppose it's possible."

"How long ago did she vacate her position as Media Director?"

"Shortly after Roslyn," Leo replied.

"On what grounds?"

"Several reasons. More often than not, she was less than compatible with the rest of the senior staff. That, and she wrote a memo outlining our weaknesses so that really put a damper on things."

"Would you say she left on less than amicable terms?" Chappelle asked.

"She didn't seem too phased by it. She's always been resilient, but I don't imagine being let go from a presidential administration looks good on a resumé, so there's that."

"I'm assuming she had a thorough background check before coming to work at the White House."

"Of course."

"So this new hobby of hers has to be a relatively new endeavor."

Leo nodded. Chappelle sighed and stood up.

"Okay, we've taken both of them into custody and they're being brought into CTU for questioning."

"Okay. You're gonna head down there?"

"I'll be in charge of interrogation. Being that these two are our only leads, they're priority."

"I appreciate all the work you and your team have been doing here tonight, Ryan."

Chappelle smiled, probably for the first time in nine hours.

"Well, sir, they don't call us the Counter Terrorism Unit for nothing."

3:11

She watched helplessly as the stream of light became smaller and smaller, until finally she heard the door slam shut and darkness dominated every corner of the little storeroom. She tried to scream, but the sound was muffled by the rag covering her mouth. Although she could feel herself moving, nothing was visible to her. It was as if she was suspended in mid-air, with nothing below her and nothing above her. She knew the pain in her legs wasn't a good sign, but she couldn't see them clear enough to assess the damage. After a few moments of thrashing and struggling, she resigned all hope and leaned back against a large, unidentified object and waited to be rescued.

As she contemplated her situation, she decided right then and there that she was going to make it through this. After all, why would anyone want to kill the Surgeon General of the United States?

3:19

With the first ring of his cell phone, Sam Seaborn leaped out of bed. The ringing continued as he searched frantically beneath the pile of clothes of the floor until finally he came across it. He leaned against the bed and flipped the cell phone open, pressing it to his ear.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, buddy, it's Josh."

"It's like one in the morning, Josh," Sam murmured without bothering to look up at the digital clock resting on his nightstand.

"Actually, it's three, but that's not important. Can you hang on a second? I want to conference Amy in."

"Uh…okay."

Sam waited patiently for the silence at the other end of the line to disappear and, when it finally did, he had almost dozed off to sleep.

"Sam? You still there?"

His eyes shot open and he shook his head to chase away the remnants of his lassitude.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Amy?"

After a yawn, Amy replied, "I'm here."

"Listen, I'm sorry to wake you both up, I just wanted you to be prepared."

"For what, a nuclear meltdown?" Amy said.

"A lot has happened in the last few hours and while I can't clue you in on all of it just yet, there's one thing I need your help with."

"Just spit it out, Josh, it's one in the morning."

"Again, it's actually three, but…anyway. Earlier this evening, Dr. Stanley Keyworth was murdered in his apartment."

"What!"

"You're kidding."

"No." Josh shook his head, knowing full well that neither of them could see him do so. "The President has put me in charge of the investigation but he insists I take two people with me."

"Oh, no. Uh-uh," Sam said, immediately.

"Count me out," Amy agreed.

"Come on," Josh implored them.

"Josh, we have no investigatory experience whatsoever. Why you would choose us…"

"You're both lawyers. Besides, I trust you. There aren't a whole lot of people I trust out there. Come on, do it for Columbo. Do it for Rockford. Do it for Magnum!"

Sam and Amy both groaned, and Josh knew he had won.

"Sam, you bring the flashlight. Amy, you get the binoculars. Be ready at 7am."

Before they could argue, Josh had conveniently hung up the phone. Sam and Amy both flipped their phones shut and sighed. Slowly, Sam crawled back into bed and under the covers. After a moment, he turned his head to look at the woman lying next to him.

"Think he had any idea?" He questioned.

"Not a clue," Amy replied.

3:27

It hadn't taken long for the President to fall asleep following his passionate conversation with his wife. She had done her best to ease his fears and while her efforts didn't erase them completely, it was enough to afford him a little sleep. His fears, however, only amplified hers, leading to a severe, though hopefully transient, case of insomnia. Wrapped tightly in his strong arms as he slept peacefully, her eyes darted aimlessly around the room, drawn to the dancing shadows on the wall created by the curtains. As soothing as his regular breathing pattern was, it seemed that sleep was entirely unattainable for her. Not that that was especially surprising, given the circumstances. She suppressed her desire to get out of bed and roam the Residence knowing that any movement on her part would likely rouse her husband from his coveted, much-needed slumber and she would have none of that. Even in her own time of need, he came first.

3:38

"Honestly, Gerald, coffee at this ungodly hour?"

Startled, Leo glanced up to find the ever-charming Lord John Marbury standing in the doorway of his office. He didn't know whether to groan or breathe a sigh of relief at his arrival.

"Gotta find some way to stay awake, John."

"Certainly. Which is precisely why I've taken the liberty of sending your delightful assistant to retrieve us some Earl Grey."

"And a shot of whiskey?"

Lord John shook his head and crossed the threshold into the office.

"I fear that would be wholly inappropriate on this night of nights, Gerald, don't you agree?"

Leo nodded and relocated from his desk to the couch, gesturing for Lord John to join him.

"I'm afraid the outcome of this dreadful situation is looking rather grim."

"I take it you've been briefed on all the details?" Leo assumed.

"Yes, of course."

"What's your opinion?"

"My esteemed estimation is this. Putting aside the fact that I personally provided you with ample forewarning of this very situation nearly a year ago, I imagine the IRA chose to target the United States on the sole grounds that it was completely unexpected. Naturally, the U.S. would be unprepared for an attack of this temperament, orchestrated by those you have always considered allies. At the same time, it is duly startling to consider that an attack hasn't already been made, only threatened. It is highly uncharacteristic of this particular organization to wait so long after making what is not so much a threat as a declaration of their intentions. Unless I have been mistakenly informed, they made no requests from you, is that correct?"

"That's right," Leo replied with a nod.

"Then I cannot, for the life of me, deduce, plausibly, why they would wait so long before executing their grand scheme. This leads me to only one conclusion."

"What's that?"

"The IRA's threat upon this country was made only to incite fear within your government and, in doing so, prove to England that their willingness to wreak havoc extends far beyond Her Majesty's kingdom."

"Essentially?"

"Essentially, it is fair to assume that the IRA is saying to England, in layman's terms, 'we're prepared to destroy every democratic form of government on earth until you agree to our demands.'"

"The IRA is that powerful?" Leo questioned.

"No, certainly not," Lord John replied. "But they think they are and that in itself is alarming, wouldn't you say?"

Leo nodded.

"Yeah. So you believe they're all talk?"

"It's possible, yes. But that is not to say that you should discontinue your efforts to stop them. You see, the IRA is full of surprises, contrary to popular belief. They thrive on that very trait. Whether or not they are, as you say, full of shit is completely unknown and that, my friend, is what keeps them going. Understand?"

"Oh, I understand, but that doesn't mean I have any inkling as to what comes next."

"Nor do I, which is precisely their goal. Your duty now is to conceal any semblance of fear in your administration because once they see that they've succeeded in their objective, then the situation escalates far beyond your wildest dreams."

3:49

"It's freezing out here," Hogan commented as she folded her arms actress her chest in an attempt to keep out the cold.

"Well, it is January," CJ replied.

They strolled through Lafayette Park slowly, neither of them incredibly keen on returning to the hustle and bustle of the White House.

"You have to get back to work soon, don't you?"

"There's a lot going on right now, Hogan. If it was any other day…"

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"Aunt CJ, you serve at the pleasure of the President. I get it," Hogan said.

"That doesn't mean I'm not here for you."

"Seriously, I get it."

CJ stopped as they approached the gates to the White House.

"We'll have your dad come get you in the morning. Are you okay hanging out with Carol for now?"

"I'll be fine."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

3:57

After over half an hour of silent debating, Abbey decided to take the risk. Whether or not it woke her husband up, she needed to escape. She slowly disentangled herself from his grasp, pausing until his stirring ceased. When it did, she quietly crawled out of bed, grateful when his slumber remained intact. After donning a silk bathrobe and one passing glance at her husband, she tiptoed out of the bedroom they shared. She nodded to the agents in acknowledgement as she passed by and strolled through the Residence until she reached the Truman Balcony. She didn't even flinch when the cold air hit her. She welcomed the numb feeling that spread all over her body when it did. She always felt at peace when she was out on the balcony, like nothing could touch her.

That serenity, however, was disturbed forever when the Washington Monument burst into flames before her very eyes.

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