A Heartbeat Away

CHAPTER 43

From the recesses of the upper gallery, Ellis watched Sean O’Neil patrol the aisles of the House Chamber. He looked ill at ease, and avoided any eye contact with the anxious faces that he passed, perhaps feeling as if he were being held responsible in some way for their plight.

Ellis felt some pity for the man. He was at once prisoner and jailer, neither of them very enviable positions. At least amid this mess, she had a purpose—some control and power over her fate. Soon enough, though, O’Neil would have some purpose as well. And once Allaire and his vice presidential toady were put in their places, once she was president, she would reward the Secret Service agent’s assistance by keeping him on staff, pledged to take a bullet for her.

The speaker descended the carpeted stairwell to the chamber floor level, approached O’Neil from behind, and tapped him on the shoulder. He spun around, reaching for his gun.

“Easy, cowboy,” she said. “Maybe it’s time to switch over to decaf.”

O’Neil glared at her.

“Next time you come up on me like that, don’t expect me to stop.”

“We need to talk,” Ellis said.

“I’m busy right now.”

“Oh? Doing what?”

“The president asked me to make some observations and report back to him.”

“Observations?”

“Check and see how people are holding up.”

“Oooo. Sounds important.”

“What do you want?”

“I told you, to talk. Please?”

Ellis motioned to a dark corner where she felt assured they’d have a modicum of privacy. O’Neil grumbled an unintelligible protest, but followed her anyway.

“Okay,” the agent said, when it seemed they were safely out of earshot of others, “what do you want to talk about?”

“Where is Archibald Jakes?” Ellis asked.

“The Navy chief of staff?”

“Is there another?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are we going to be difficult, Sean?”

“That depends. Are you going to keep trying to talk to me?”

“I have a Web browser on this BlackBerry,” Ellis said, waving the device in her hand at waist level so that only he could see. “Do you have any pictures of your kid I can bring up? I love children, you know. Had some myself once upon a time.”

“You are really a bitch.”

“It’s so nice how we can work together for the greater good, and still make time to share our personal lives as well.”

“You keep my son out of this,” O’Neil growled.

Ellis made a tsk-tsk sound, her expression one of mock sorrow.

“I am sorry, Sean,” she said, “but unless you cooperate, that is simply not an option. Look, here’s the deal: I need you to get me egress from this chamber, a passage that is presently denied to me.”

“And then?”

“And then take me to wherever Jakes is holed up.”

The agent considered the request.

“I want your word never to mention my son again.”

“But—”

“I said never!”

“Goodness. This is a snippy side of you I never knew existed. All right, then. You cooperate and get me to Archie Jakes, and I won’t say another word about your kid.”

O’Neil mulled over the pledge for a second time.

“Jakes is in the Senate Chamber,” he said, finally.

“I thought you said you didn’t know where he was.”

“I lied.”

“I know. It rubs off from Allaire. So, get me in there.”

“Not that simple. I don’t have the key.”

“A key? You mean to tell me the head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff is locked inside the Senate Chamber?”

“Yes. Along with the rest of Group C.”

“Tell me Sean, have you asked yourself why that might be?”

“No.”

“You’re either very trusting of your president, or dreadfully uncurious.”

“Both. My job is to guard, not question.”

“Well, if you want that job of yours to continue, I suggest you get me inside that room.”

“I can’t do that,” O’Neil said.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Does it matter?”

“You’re a really dreadful liar, Sean. Way out of your league here. I know you have a key to the Senate. I’d bet my right arm on it. That’s how certain I am.”

“Go to hell.”

“Do you know about my recently formed special committee?”

“I do. You’re investigating Mackey’s death.”

“Mackey’s murder. That’s right. Which means I will be having a whole lot of interaction with our dear president. Which means plenty of opportunities to let my knowledge of your extracurricular activities in the Lincoln Bedroom slip out. Perhaps if he and I mend our fences enough, he’d even grant me a temporary reprieve from this lovely chamber to retrieve the photographs of you and whatever-her-name-is that I stashed away in my office safe for a rainy day. Dear Agent O’Neil. How could you not know that everything that happens in the White House is recorded one way or another?”

O’Neil grimaced and said, “I want those photographs.”

“Of course you do. But either you get me into that chamber, or Allaire and the judge preceding over your custody battle get first looks.”

Ellis watched the agent’s jaw muscles tighten.

“Come with me,” he said in a coarse whisper.

They circled in front of the rostrum and headed along the passageway leading across the Capitol. At a doorway, two agents stood guard. Both looked extremely capable. O’Neil introduced Ellis to them.

“Jill,” he said, “the president asked me to escort Speaker Ellis to the Senate.”

“Didn’t come over the radio,” the woman replied.

“Well, he asked a while ago, but I forgot until she just reminded me.”

“Lots going on,” the other agent commented. “Easy to forget. Last night they ordered the security detail off the Senate doors. Now they just do a walk-by every two hours.”

“Any idea why?” Ellis asked.

“Nope. Orders are orders, I guess. As far as I know, the only one who’s been going in there is Dr. Townsend, the president’s doc.”

“That’s strange.”

“What isn’t around here?” the guard said.

“I wonder what she’s looking for.”

“Well, thanks, Scott,” O’Neil said.

He led Ellis forward a step, but the guards remained in place and exchanged questioning looks.

“Do you mind if we take a look at your hands?” Jill asked.

“There’s noting there,” O’Neil said. “That’s one of the things the president has had me looking for.”

He held out his hands, palms up, and motioned for Ellis to do the same.

“What’s this all about?” she asked.

“Beats us,” the agent named Scott said. “But Secretary Salitas has us checking anyone who comes this way.”

“Agent O’Neil, do you know what’s going on?”

Her expression was serpentine.

Ellis held her palms up for the guards.

O’Neil shrugged.

“We’re looking for some sort of red pattern—a circle or swirl. If we see anyone who has it, one palm or both, we’re supposed to send them to Salitas.”

“Interesting,” Ellis said. “Interesting. When’s the next walk-by supposed to happen?”

“Fifteen minutes. Right when our shift ends.”

“Thanks, you two. We’ll probably be back before you leave.”

The two guards stepped aside and allowed the speaker and O’Neil to pass.

Ellis quickened her pace.

They descended to the first floor of the Capitol complex. Ellis was accustomed to the stairwells and corridors bustling with activity, but the only footsteps she heard now were their own. The odd silence evoked a childhood memory of being locked inside a museum after closing time. They followed the House connecting corridor through the Crypt, where Doric columns helped support the huge central rotunda, and then passed into the Senate connecting corridor. Finally, they ascended to the Senate Chamber itself.

Outside the door was a cardboard sign printed in neat Magic Marker that warned: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. To the right of the sign, hanging on a coatrack inside a small plastic ultraviolet chamber, was a single blue biocontainment suit. The chamber bore a label written on tape that read: DR. B. TOWNSEND.

“Only one suit for one person,” Ellis said. “Don’t you think that’s a little strange?”

“No. I think that’s a lot strange,” O’Neil replied.

“Explanation?”

“Townsend doesn’t want anyone else going in there except her.”

“Probably so, but why the suit? She’s been exposed the same as the rest of us. Could it be that the risk of exposure inside the Senate is even greater than in the rest of the building?”

A padlock connected the ends of a thick steel chain that was looped between the semicircular brass pull handles of the chamber’s double doors. Ellis flicked a manicured finger toward it.

“I’m not doing this,” O’Neil said.

“The problem with you, dear Sean,” Ellis replied with icy calm, “is that you can’t think without orders. I need to see exactly what’s going on in there and why these people have been locked away. So here’s my order to you: Open that goddamn door, or I swear to you, I’ll make ruining your life my full-time occupation.”

Reluctantly, the agent took out his key and inserted it into the padlock. They could hear sounds coming from inside. Some of what they heard sounded like coughing. But mixed in with those sounds were what might have been screams. Then they heard a noise that was even more distinctive—and getting louder. Somebody on the other side of the door was clawing at the wood.

“I don’t think we should be doing this,” O’Neil said again.

“I only need a minute in there, Sean,” Ellis demanded. “Turn the damn key!”

And so he did.