Blayne’s pocket vibrated. He was mortified. “I swear, I thought I turned that off,” he said. He pulled it out. “Sniper… Save the President.”
“If you’ll follow me,” Clarice said, gesturing to the door. She reached out and opened it.
Blayne looked and saw that President Barnes was in the way of the open doorway. He took two steps, throwing his body at the President. Ethan wasn’t sure what was happening. A potted plant in the back of the Palm Room exploded. Ethan threw himself at Cleo Barnes, throwing the First Lady to the ground and covering her with his body. There was a scream, then there was yelling. Hands started to yank him off the First Lady.
There was gunfire from somewhere. A brilliant, blinding light turned the world white. The shockwave followed. A thunderous boom shook the building, rattling windows in their frames. Ethan looked around, but the Palm Room seemed intact. The First Lady was huddled under his body, protecting her head. He yelled something into her ear, but he was unsure if she heard it.
He was pulled off the First Lady then shoved to the ground by the Secret Service. He turned his head to find Blayne being pulled off the President. Just outside, Ethan glimpsed the Rose Garden. What had been a serene and picturesque garden seconds before had transformed into a maelstrom of chaos and confusion. Roses and other floral beauties were torn and thrown asunder by the blast. The people caught in the vicinity were on the ground, dazed and disoriented, their clothes dirtied and singed. Some scrambled to their feet, while others remained lying amid the ruined garden.
Ethan was yanked to his feet while Cleo Barnes yelled at a man in a black suit. “Get your hands off of them,” her voice rang out. “Agent Malone, they just saved our lives.”
Ethan was dragged from the room, the tips of his toes scraping the red carpet of the West Wing as they left the Palm Room. Everything happened so fast that he barely registered what was going on. He looked down at his suit and noticed that he’d lost the pocket square from his suit coat.
“Unhand them,” Cleo Barnes yelled.
“How do you know they weren’t involved in this attempt on yours and the President’s lives?”
“I just do,” Cleo screamed. Everyone was screaming. Ethan’s ears rang, but his hearing was slowly coming back. He must not have been too close to the explosion. The agents dragging him let him get his feet beneath himself so he could stand on his own. Dazed, Ethan looked around the hall as people ran in a dozen directions.
“Ma’am, that’s not good enough. Let’s get them to a secure location and question them.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“You need to go with Chesapeake to PEOC.”
“No, take them to the Cabinet Room. You can talk with them there.”
“Fuck!” the agent said, before speaking into his wrist. “Chesapeake is heading to PEOC. Cumberland is staying in the West Wing. Has anyone contacted Patuxent’s or Anacostia’s details?”
“Delta is meeting Chesapeake in PEOC. The building is in lockdown,” Ethan heard.
They were ushered to the end of the corridor. He looked to the right. The Press Secretary was already standing behind the podium, briefing the public. A door opened, and Ethan was shoved into a chair, his hands handcuffed behind his back. Across from him, a disheveled Blayne was pushed down in a chair. Two guards hovered over them. He looked and noticed that Cleo and the one agent hadn’t entered the room with them. They sat there like that.
“Are you—?” Blayne tried to ask.
“No talking,” the agent next to him said.
Ethan mouthed, “I’m okay.”
At least an hour passed before a man in a black suit with silver hair entered the room, followed by Cleo Barnes. The man sat at the end of the table. Cleo positioned herself against the wall behind Ethan. The man said nothing. He just eyed them both.
“Are you members of the Constitutional Liberation Army?”
“Of course not,” Ethan said.
“No,” Blayne replied at the same time.
“Did you try to assassinate the President and the First Lady?”
Cleo let out a stupefied snort behind Ethan. “They saved us from a sniper. Why would they do that if they wanted us dead?”
“Madam First Lady, please let me do my job.” The man turned back and looked at them. “Mr. Dickenson, you attacked the President. Why?”
“I didn’t attack anyone. The door opened. I turned my head to look at the President, and there was a red dot on his chest. I just reacted.”
“Why would you react when you saw a red dot?”
“Because I’ve seen a lot of movies. I know when the shiny red dot appears on someone, that rarely ends well. I just reacted.”
