Note: Another of these really short chapters, guys. But we're getting there. . . .
Chapter 18:
Josh said goodbye to Ron Butterfield, and put the phone down.
"Sam," he said. "Get the others in here."
Sam stepped back into his office, and nodded C.J., Toby, and Danny into the Oval.
Josh was standing behind the desk of the Presidents, the Resolute, fidgeting with a binder clip he'd picked up. He was snapping the handles back and forth without looking at them. His eyes were on the cluster of framed photos on the desktop. He looked up when the others came in, but said nothing.
They watched his face, waiting. He swallowed, hard. Then he looked down at the binder clip, and up again.
"I'm going to Andrews," he said. "Sam'll bring you up to date. We think Noah left of his own accord. We're not looking at a rogue-agent scenario for the time being, so I've called off Fitzwallace and the Marines. We've closed local airports, harbors, and highways around the area. I don't want to brief the press yet, though, Danny. Not till we know more."
Danny nodded.
"I'm sorry about this. I know you've all got plans for the holidays. . . ."
Josh's voice trailed off. He rarely felt Presidential-his thought from the start had been that the only way to get through this job he'd been asked to do would be to check his ego at the door and focus on the work and his team-but he'd never felt less like a Commander-in-Chief than he did now.
"Don't be ridiculous," Toby growled.
"Let us come with you," C.J. said, warmly.
"Yeah," Danny said. "We can do the statement from there, when the time comes."
Toby nodded. Josh swallowed again and cleared his throat, which felt suddenly husky.
"You don't have to. We can do it by phone. And there's really no need for the Secretary of State to be part of this at all, C.J. But thanks for the offer; I appreciate it."
"Of course we're coming." Sam looked a little baffled. It actually hadn't occurred to him that they wouldn't be. "You might need us. We have to be there."
"But your families. . . ."
"Are your family, too. They'll understand."
Josh's face twisted. C.J. put a hand on his arm.
"Let's go," she said, simply. "Donna's waiting for you."
And for all the emotion he was struggling to keep in check, Josh felt a weight shifting off his shoulders.
His team was with him. None of them would ever have acted like this with Jed Bartlet. He didn't suppose any staff the White House had ever seen had been this close or this informal with the President. It was a different kind of presidency he was running, all right, but it worked, for them and for him. They couldn't have done it any other way.
To be cont'd. . . .