First Lady (44 page)
Without warning, there was a deafening explosion. Before she could even open her eyes, a searing hot pain tore through Lauren’s head. Her body was violently thrown sideways, held to the seat only by the car’s restraint system. A second later she was jolted forward with such force it knocked the wind from her lungs. She vaguely registered the sound of squealing tires and a piercing scream before her world went mercifully black.
*
*
*
Dev laughed along with the rest of the room as the Secretary of the Interior related a story about his vacation. It was a welcome moment that eased the tension in the day’s cabinet meeting. Even among this handpicked group, the meetings were usually anxiety-filled for reasons that Dev could never quite grasp.
She glanced at David’s watch and realized they were just about to adjourn, when an aide rushed into the room with a slightly desperate look on his face. He looked torn between going to David or Dev. David ended the aide’s mental debate by motioning the husky man in his direction. He leaned over and whispered something in David’s ear.
Dev watched as the blood drained from her friend’s face and felt the bottom of her stomach drop out in response.
David whispered something back to the aide, but Devlyn could only barely make out Geoff’s name.
Very slowly, David cleared his throat and rose to his feet. “If you’ll excuse us, ladies and gentlemen. There’s something that requires the President’s immediate attention. Thank you for your cooperation, this meeting is adjourned.” He circled the table as cabinet members filed out of the room and gently took Dev by the arm, whispering to her, “Come with me and stay calm.”
Dev’s chest tightened to a painful degree. “David?”
“Not here, Dev.” He led her out of the room, turning in the opposite direction from which the still-milling cabinet members were walking. The crowd parted, and a distraught looking Jane met David in the hall and murmured something about television to him. She couldn’t look at Devlyn, lest she burst into tears.
“What is going on?” Dev practically shouted, half-angry, half-terrified, feeling her heart begin to race when David told Jane to clear the rest of the day.
David pulled Dev into an empty conference room. He ignored Devlyn’s question long enough to give the voice commands for the television and winced as a horrible picture, shot from a local traffic helicopter, flared to life in the corner of the room. He muted the sound but left on the closed-captioning as he quickly explained to Devlyn what she was seeing.
His voice shook slightly as he spoke. “That’s Lauren’s sedan, Dev. Our satellite has got the location, too, and agents are on the way.”
What had happened was fairly clear from viewing the accident scene. Another sedan, a white
Toyota
, had entered an intersection and had hit the side of the car Lauren was traveling in, crushing the driver and rear passenger's side doors. The police escort that was following Lauren had run into them both.
Dev didn’t say a word. Not even when the camera zoomed in and showed a lurid smear of crimson staining the driver's side rear window. It was clear the press didn’t know who was in the car by the casual, almost understated way they were reporting the accident. The news crew had literally stumbled across the accident only seconds after it happened while on their way to filming rush hour traffic. The three cars, one of them a police car, were now sitting idle on a relatively quiet back street and there was no ambulance on the scene yet. The man from the
Toyota
exited his car quickly and stumbled to the curb, where he sat down with his head in his hands.
David could tell by the whiteness of her skin and the panic in her eyes that she had heard what he’d told her, even though she remained completely silent, her eyes riveted to the television.
“David…” she finally managed to choke out.
He was there to catch her when her legs buckled, and he guided her to a chair.
She gulped down a few huge lungfuls of air and gripped the armrests of her chair with devastating force, her knuckles turning as white as her face. She forced words out between ragged breaths. “What do… what do we know?”
“Not much. The call came in maybe 60 seconds ago. The patrol car following called it in directly to the White House. The officer didn't say much — less than you can see from the TV, in fact.”
David and Devlyn watched as two policemen and several Secret Service agents swarmed over the two cars, guns drawn. One agent instantly approached the
Toyota
driver and appeared to order the shaking man to lie down, face first, which the driver did. The other agents ran over to Lauren’s car.
A low moan escaped Devlyn’s chest. “I need to get there.”
“Dev, an ambulance is on the way. ETA two more minutes, tops. She’d be gone by the time we got there.”
Devlyn closed her eyes, her entire body shaking. “Where is she?” she asked in a remarkably calm voice, her mind’s eye still focusing on the television image. This can’t be happening again, her mind screamed. It can’t!
“On the corner of 6
th
and A Street North East. That’s about three miles from here.”
Dev shot to her feet and bolted for the door.
*
*
*
Lauren opened her eyes to the sound of sirens in the distance. Dazed, she blinked a few times, realizing that she was lying sideways, nearly on top of Carol, who was moaning.
“What—?” She shook her head, wondering what was wrong with her vision and what was stinging her eyes. She instantly regretted the motion and cried out softly, her head throbbing.
“Lauren?” Carol’s shaky voice asked.
“I think so,” Lauren whispered, her hands moving to unhook the car’s safety restraint system. Her fingers fumbled for a few seconds until she was able to release herself.
“Is everyone all right back there?” one of the agents asked, his attention quickly turning to his fellow agent, who was slumped forward in the driver’s seat, apparently unconscious.
“Yes,” Carol whimpered.
“Ms. Strayer? Talk to me, ma’am.”
“Oh, God,” Carol gasped. “She’s bleeding.”
Lauren wiped at her eyes, the metallic scent of warm blood filling her nostrils. Suddenly the sedan began to close in on her and she began to panic. Her entire body ached and things kept going in and out of focus. She felt as though she was swimming through thick pea soup.
“Stay in the car, ma’am,” the agent ordered, as he drew his gun with one hand and, with the other, tried to rouse the driver. Alert eyes scanned the interior and exterior of the car.
“I can’t,” Lauren hissed, her heart beating so fast she was sure it would burst in her chest. She tasted blood and her stomach roiled as she reached for the far door. “I—”
“Stay—!”
But Carol had had enough as well; she pushed past Lauren’s hand and opened the door.
She scrambled out and fell onto the asphalt with Lauren right behind her.
The street felt hot against Lauren’s palms, but she didn’t feel the gravel digging into her skin. Bracing herself with her hands against her knees, she stood and started to realize what had happened. When she was upright and swaying precariously, she reached for her face and eyes again, this time looking at her fingers, which came away stained liberally with the sticky blood that was flowing from a gash on her forehead.
She saw stars and her knees gave way just as several Secret Service agents came running and screamed at her to get down.
*
*
*
“Devlyn!” David ran after her, having trouble keeping up with her even though she was wearing a skirt and low heels.
“Wait, Dev!” he tried again.
She ran up to Jane’s desk and jerked the phone from her secretary’s hand. “Give me your car keys!”
Compassion shone in Jane’s eyes. “Dev, honey—”
Dev’s face contorted in rage. Never had she been so furious that she had no personal means of transportation. “God dammit, I said give them to me!”
With wide eyes, Liza cleared the area around Jane’s desk, ushering away anyone who could hear or see Devlyn in this all-out panic.
Panting, David put himself between Dev and Jane. “You can’t go to her.”
“Bullshit. I can’t!” Dev barely kept herself from striking him.
“He’s right, Dev.”
The President turned to see Vice President Vincent shouldering his way past a very harried Liza. “We don’t know if this was a true accident or an attempt to get you out of the White House with less than normal security.”
Dev’s hands shaped quivering fists. “I don’t care.”
Geoff’s tone softened. “I know you don’t.” He put a comforting hand on her shaking shoulder. “But I have to.”
“Geoff,” she whispered, tears blinding her. “I have to get to her. I—”
David’s phone rang and everyone held their breath as he answered it. With a curt reply, he snapped the phone shut. “Lauren and the agent who was driving are on their way to
Dev nodded weakly and commanded her legs to move.
All she could think of was going to the hospital after Samantha’s crash; the look of hopelessness on the doctors’ faces; their words of apology and pity that barely registered as the unthinkable actually happened. She closed her eyes and willed herself not to fall apart at the seams.
Not yet.
“Let’s go,” she ordered, making it crystal clear that no one on earth could stop her.
*
*
*
Word had leaked out about the facility’s famous patient. Devlyn, David, and bevy of Secret Service agents bypassed the writhing hoard of reporters camped around the hospital and filling its hallways to the brim by using a staff-only entrance used by physicians in the private, underground parking lot.
The hallway was poorly lit with lurid fluorescent lights and the walls were slightly dingy, despite this being a state-of-the-art facility. They were forced to ascend the narrow staircase two at a time, and Devlyn could hear the Senior-Agent-In-Charge cursing under his breath in front of her. No one had told them about this, and it clearly wasn’t to her security’s liking.
She drew in a deep breath as she bounded up the steps, literally pushing on the backs of the men in front of her so that they would move faster. Dev winced when she caught a whiff of the bleach and the standard medicinal odor found in all hospitals. The air was muggy, giving the impression that a large swimming pool was nearby. She stopped and grasped the metal railing tightly, feeling light headed.
She tightened her grip. “Shit.”
“Dev?” David said worriedly, stopping one of the many phone conversations he’d been having since they left the White House.
She just shook her head. “I’m fine.” She started up the stairs again. “You know where we’re going?”
David nodded. “A right turn at the top of the stairs. Jesus, if I’d known we were going to go up seven flights…”
But Devlyn wasn’t listening anymore. She just gritted her teeth and continued to climb, telling herself not to think of anything at all. One step. Two steps. Another. Turn the corner. Breathe.
Finally, a door in front of Devlyn opened, and she moved forward into better light and a fresher smell. Two doctors in crisp white lab coats were there to meet her.
“Madam President, my name is Doctor Emilio Castel. Let me assure you that your wife is receiving the best care possible. I am Ms. Strayer’s primary care physician. We have cleared her rooms of physicians and staff so that you may have a moment alone with her.” He indicated the woman on his right with a tilt of his head. “This is Doctor Yajra Chandra, our most senior plastic surgeon. She will be working on Ms. Strayer’s face.”
Dev swallowed hard, not sure whether to be horrified that Lauren needed a plastic surgeon or grateful enough to fall on her knees and thank God that she was alive, no matter what her condition. Just to be sure she asked, “She’s alive then?” Saying the words aloud made her physically sick, and she could taste the bile rising in her stomach.
“Oh, yes, Madam President,” Dr. Castel answered respectfully, a little surprised Devlyn didn’t already know that. Then again, Lauren had only just been brought in.
He glanced down at the chart in his hand and prepared to recite the most important patient status update of his career. “She—”
“Where is she?”
The man’s eyes went round, and his dark eyebrow rose at the sharp, desperate sound to the President’s voice. “I—”
“Where?” Dev shouted, not caring who heard her. Then, out of the corner of her eye and behind Dr. Castel, she caught sight of a room being guarded by three men in suits, all sporting crew cuts. She took off running, stiff-arming the doctor out of her way and sending the people around her into chaos.
