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Secret Service scrambled to protect the president.
Lodge, Newman, Agent Littlefield and one Capitol Police officer were dead. Blood flowed from where President Taylor went down. Officers shouted instructions. The president’s detail surrounded Taylor, who stirred and rolled out from under a Secret Service agent.
“I need medical attention now!” Davis shouted. But the president waved him off and patted the agent on the ground next to him who had taken the bullet.
“I’m okay. But this man needs help. He saved my life.” The Secret Service agent who had fallen over the president had been hit in the stomach and was bleeding badly.
“Hang on son.” The agent fought the pain and nodded. The president took his hand and squeezed hard.
Orders drowned out the rest of the commotion in the Capitol. The president’s wife and Mrs. Lamden automatically offered to help the downed agent and the Capitol Police secured all of the exits. Five more plainclothes officers flashed their ID’s and ran past the guards at the East entrance. Behind them a woman carrying heavy books and an attaché case struggled to keep up.
“Oh my god!” exclaimed Katie Kessler. She had never seen a battle zone or smelled the sickly mixture of explosives and blood.
Some of the most recognizable faces in the country were all around her. Judges, elected officials, cabinet members. Many were pulling themselves up onto their hands and knees; others would never rise again. Katie searched the room.
“Scott!” she yelled out.
Roarke was helping Governor Lamden to his feet when he heard her voice. “Over here.”
She drew a deep breath. The Rotunda was a grisly spectacle, but seeing Roarke was life affirming. Her eyes said it all. Relief. His gun was still out. She’d not seen him kill, but she was certain he had. Katie left him to his job and found the chief justice in the crowd.
“Chief Justice.”
Leopold Browning acknowledged her with a nod. “The situation has changed a bit since we talked, Ms. Kessler. Do you have any miracles for us?”
“No, Chief Justice. No miracles.” She realized she was clutching her materials tightly. Katie released her grip and rested her leather case on the floor but opened one book. “There’s no allowance for a revote. December 12, 2000, Bush v. Gore underscored the Court’s complete determination to insure that a president, elected by the Electoral College, take office at the appointed time whether or not the election itself was called into question.”
Michael O’Connell moved closer. A Secret Service agent tried to muscle him out, but the president, now on his feet, allowed him to remain.
Katie surveyed the bloody scene. Teddy Lodge was slumped against the Rotunda wall where he had been killed. She quietly added, “We’re looking at the rules of succession.”
“But the election was a fraud!” O’Connell blurted out from behind his portable digital camera.
“That’s not the issue. Governor Lamden must be sworn in. It’s the law.”
“What if he’s involved?” O’Connell argued.
“That is for Congress to decide. The Constitution grants the House the authority to impeach.”
More running footsteps echoed across the marble. A Secret Service agent and a woman in high heels.
“Just in time, Attorney General Goldman,” Chief Justice Browning called out. “We have an unexpected turn of events here. Join us.”
Goldman dispensed with any greeting. She acknowledged everyone with a quick, polite nod and took Katie, the only person she didn’t know, as the Boston attorney. “The Secret Service briefed me on the way in. Let’s get to it.”
“For the record,” Governor Lamden said, “I had no knowledge of this plot until I was informed by the president this morning. I assure you, I will be prepared to testify to that fact.”
“Thank you, governor. That will be necessary. Now, Ms. Kessler, if you would kindly continue,” Chief Justice Browning ordered. “Time is a factor.”
Katie swallowed hard and shut out everything around her. People were dead at her feet, but she had to concentrate on the life of the country. And indeed time was critical.
“Yes sir.”
“Your honor, members of the court, Mr. President, Mr. Vice President, Article XX, Section 1 of the United States Constitution firmly stipulates that the term of the president begin at noon on the 20th day of January following the general election. Furthermore, and noting the circumstances of today,” she said scanning down a text she had marked, “Section 3 states that—and I quote—‘at the time fixed for the beginning of the term of the President, the President elect shall have died, the Vice President elect shall become President.’”
She lifted her eyes above the paper and took a tentative step forward to Governor Lamden.
“Mr. President.”
Roarke made his way to Katie’s side. He had hoped that she would have found some way for Morgan Taylor to stay in power; maybe even declaring a State of Emergency. But apparently that was not possible.
“Confidence in the government must come from the faithful execution of the laws,” she continued. “And the law is clear. There is no legal justification for delaying the Inauguration. The constitution firmly asserts, and I believe the public demands it, that in two minutes, somebody must be in charge.”
Now it was Morgan Taylor’s turn. “Henry’s clean. And he’s going to make a damned good president. You can investigate him all you want.”
“The House will examine the evidence then make a decision,” the Chief Justice added without prejudice.
“And he’ll pass every test you throw at him,” the President concluded.
There was a long silence, finally broken by the chief justice. “Thank you, Ms. Kessler. You’ve had quite an eventful morning. Now it’s my turn.” He nodded for his fellow Supreme Court justices to join him for a quick conversation.
Katie felt a warm breath over her shoulder and then a whisper in her ear. “You were great.”
“I was terrified.”
“Well, it was your first argument in front of the U.S. Supreme Court. What do you expect?”
She reached around and squeezed his hand, then turned and looked in his eyes. They were inviting and strong, loving and proud. She reached up and lightly kissed his lips.
“I expect to win.”
Chief Justice Browning’s voice boomed again. “Governor Lamden?”
“Yes, Chief Justice,” the vice president-elect said as he approached the chief justice.
“There are going to be a great many surprised people when we walk out to the Capitol steps. How are you at making spontaneous speeches?”
“Not bad, your honor.”
“Well Governor, get ready to make the speech of your life. It’s time we swear you in as the next President of the United States.”
A line formed, led by members of the Secret Service.
“One moment, Ms. Kessler,” the Chief Justice said.
“Yes sir.”
“I’d like to take those books off your hands. I believe I owe the country an impromptu class on the constitution.”
“Right here, sir,” she said handing over the texts he requested. “The pages are tabbed as you asked.”
“Thank you. And Ms. Kessler…”
“Yes, Chief Justice?”
The man with the most serious face she’d ever seen smiled broadly. “Hope to see you back in court someday.”
She returned the smile, proudly. “Thank you, Chief Justice. I’ll be there.”
“Do me a favor, though. Next time, give me a little advance warning.”
The chief justice led the dignitaries to the door. Behind him, President Taylor and the first lady, Governor Lamden and his wife, and the other witnesses to the events that had just unfolded in the Rotunda. Each and every one of them shook attorney Kate Kessler’s hand as they walked by.
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“Mr. President, if you have a second?�
� Governor Lamden whispered to Morgan Taylor at the door. The two men slowed down.
“Yes, Henry?”
Lamden guided him away from the others. The chief justice frowned. “Just a few words, then we’ll be along,” the governor said.
Browning tapped his watch, indicating the hour, but then nodded an okay. He stopped shy of the door and left the two men alone, or as alone as they could be with the Secret Service around.
“So what are you going to do now, Morgan?”
“You mean after testifying on the Hill to save your sorry butt? I was planning on going fishing. Someplace with no cell coverage”
“I’d give that a week. Maybe two,” Lamden laughed.
“You think so?” the president stated.
“No more than three. And then?”
“Then?” Taylor hadn’t really taken any time to think about what he’d do.
“You know, Morgan, they say there’s no job for an ex-president except being an ex-president. But I disagree.”
He leaned over and whispered something that even the Secret Service agents couldn’t hear.
The president let out a gasp. “What?”
Chief Justice Browning turned and loudly cleared his throat to get their attention.
“Gentlemen, it is time.”
“One more minute, Mr. Chief Justice,” Lamden said. “We’re just working something out.”
“Who the hell got Lodge?” Roarke asked. He remained behind in the Rotunda.
No one knew.
The fact that Lodge was now dead didn’t really bother him. But who fired the shot did. Roarke examined the body. Shannon Davis joined him. He worked out the scenario in his mind. Lodge had picked up a gun. He ran. But he hadn’t fired. Any number of agents could have stopped him without lethal force before he escaped.
He asked the question again. “Who shot Lodge?” A dozen men and two women shrugged their shoulders. “Come on. We have a dead man here.”
“Scott, there’s marble all over the place,” Davis offered. “He must’ve been hit by a ricochet.”
Roarke examined the bullet hole, squarely between the eyes. No, he judged. Lodge was killed with an expertly aimed shot.
“No one leaves,” Roarke told the Secret Service agent in charge who peered over his shoulder. “I want to talk to the Cap Police, the Marines and all of your men. And tag all the guns.”
The Rotunda was now an officially designated a crime scene.
The NBC anchor described the unfolding scene.
“There’s President Taylor and the first lady, Governor and Mrs. Lamden, Chief Justice Leopold Browning, Speaker of the House Barney, and the rest of the members of the Supereme Court taking their seats. We’re still awaiting the arrival of the president-elect. It should be any moment now.”
The newsman observed that the Inauguration of the Vice President had not occurred on schedule at 11:50, but apparently would now. “Congressman Lodge’s seat remains empty, but the chief justice is now standing, ready to swear in Governor Lamden as Vice President of the United States.”
The crowd quieted.
“Governor Henry Lamden, will you please rise,” Chief Justice Browning said.
Lamden stood and joined the nation’s Supreme Court Chief Justice at the podium. Browning was about to give the country a lesson in the law. He held open a large book, with his finger on the page citing Article XX of the United States Constitution.
“This is America,” he began, departing from the established protocol. “A republic whose foundation rests on a remarkable set of principles expounded in the Constitution of the United States. Though written well over two centuries ago, this document lives and breathes today; providing a firm foundation for our freedoms and all that we hold dear.
“As citizens we rely on the Constitution in peace and war, through the calm and through crises. It is what’s constant in the life of every American. It offers the resolute answer for what we must now do.
“Soon you will hear much about the laws of the land. The amendments and the articles. The intentions of the architects of the constitution and how we uphold its doctrines. But presently, and according to the requirement of the Constitution, it is my duty to administer Article II, Section 1, Clause 8, the Executive Oath of Office.”
The Chief Justice stated, “Governor, please raise your right hand and repeat after me, I…”
“I Henry Winchester Lamden…”
“Do solemnly swear…that I will faithfully…”
“Do solemnly swear that I will faithfully…”
“…execute the Office of President of the United States…”
“What?” the NBC anchor exclaimed over the Oath.
Another anchor uttered, “My God! Did he say…”
Lamden continued, “…execute the Office of President of the United States…”
“…and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.”
“…and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.”
“Congratulations, Mr. President.”
The crowd, stunned as much as the reporters, remained silent and entirely confused. The chief justice raised his hand.
“Now let me explain.”
Ibrahim Haddad was anchored off the Bahamas listening to the Inauguration over a radio. He was no longer aboard his Aleutian. He and his men scuttled the multi-million dollar craft during the night taking with it the computer’s hard drive. Then they transferred to a pre-arranged deep sea sport fishing boat capable of making San Juan in two days. Haddad also abandoned the identity of the Florida businessman. He’d clear customs in Puerto Rico as Luis Gonzales, a prosperous Argentinean art dealer heading out for a vacation, fishing for blue marlin.
The chief justice concluded his speech which outlined the law and the rules of succession. President Lamden would explain the rest. The audience at the Capitol as well as the television viewers at home were still trying to figure out what happened.
“It appears that Governor Henry Lamden was just sworn in as president,” said the startled NBC anchor. “We’re now getting reports of gunshots inside the Capitol a few minutes before the ceremonies began.” Like the others providing commentary, he struggled for words that weren’t there. Almost gratefully he noticed that Lamden approached the microphone. “Governor, I should say President Lamden is about to speak.”
Henry Lamden adjusted the microphones higher, then turned his back to the crowd and shook hands with the chief justice and the Speaker of the House. He kissed his wife who had stood by his side during the Oath of Office and executed a sharply dramatic salute to Morgan Taylor.
Teddy Lodge’s speech was actually in the teleprompter ready to roll until the operator, realizing what was happening, killed the feed.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, my fellow Americans, and friends around the world, let me tell you how good this country of ours is.”
With those words Henry Lamden began to win the hearts and minds of the people. He spoke of the intent of Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, Roosevelt and Kennedy; the character of the American people; the lengths to which good people had gone to protect the legitimacy of the country. And he told the story of Teddy Lodge as best he could.
As he delivered his remarks, none of the network anchors, White House correspondents, commentators or political pundits interrupted with commentary. President Lamden spoke. The world listened.
Lamden lowered his brow and recounted the events which had led up to this moment. For the first time, Americans saw what the Navy had long known and the people of Montana had since discovered. Here was a man who could take charge without difficulty.
“We have witnessed the work of a deadly, deep-seeded cabal, the extent of which we are only beginning to grasp. To the degree that they ever want to be identified, you may also hear about a high school teacher, a barber, and a young attorney.” He intentionally left out reference to Scott Roarke.
“These are people who found themselves involved, unwittingly. They helped prevent a catastrophe today. There were others, lesser known, who died because of this conspiracy. We will mourn them.
“Nothing short of insurrection was prevented today. The laws of this Republic were usurped and that cannot, that will not be allowed. Blood was shed under the Capitol Rotunda. A member of the President’s Secret Service is dead. And so is a career officer from the Capitol Police. Another officer was seriously wounded. And the conspirators, two of them, died when they chose guns instead of facing our Congressional and Judicial process. We will all learn of their plan in the coming hours, days and months. And there will be hell to pay.
“But for all the visible players in this scheme, there remain the invisible puppet masters, the leaders, and the assassins.
“We will find them.” The determination in the new president’s voice was startling. They saw the deep, dark side of Henry Lamden as he spoke directly into the camera without the aide of a teleprompter. “We will find you. You failed in achieving your primary objective. Now it’s our turn.”
While President Lamden delivered his inaugural address, General Kharrazi oversaw an interrogation in the dank basement of Abu Salim Prison. Audio crackled from a short wave radio. Lakhdar al-Nassar didn’t recognize the voice and couldn’t understand the English. But the ailing Kharrazi did. And with every hated word from the newly installed infidel, he beat his son’s aide mercilessly. In all his pain, al-Nassar really had nothing to admit except that one spied on the other. And that was nothing new.
The crowd followed every word spoken by the new president. He was becoming their man.
Lamden stepped away from the microphone to clear his throat and compose himself. When he returned he was even more intent.
“The nation must move on. It was the wish of the founding fathers and it is demanded of me. In a few minutes I will formally submit my nominee for vice president to the Senate. I ask for unprecedented bipartisan approval, without delay,” President Lamden continued. “Of course, I will be held to great scrutiny for my association with the man the nation elected as president; the man I ran with. That is as it must be. And should I not be considered worthy of holding this office, my nominee is.”
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