Michael Palmer - A Heartbeat Away

“In the machine shop, I think. I should be able to attach it to the trailer hitch on my Taurus.”

“Then it’s settled,” Griff said. “Meet me at four o’clock by the grate.”

The intercom system buzzed its shrill alarm. It was loud enough to be heard even inside spacesuits and it happened whenever somebody surface-side wanted to speak to someone below. All of the phones subsurface had an instant push-button connection to the topside communication post.

“Rhodes here,” Griff said into the phone’s receiver.

“Rhodes, it’s Sergeant Stafford. How’s it going down there?”

“Let’s just say that if this were easy, everybody would be doing it.”

“Not me,” the soldier replied. “I’ve already seen what that virus can do. Listen, an unexpected surprise visitor just flew in. He wants to meet with you right away.”

“Who is it?” Griff asked, rolling his eyes at Forbush. “I’m really busy.”

“It’s the guy who, unless you can deliver, is now just a few heartbeats away from the presidency—Homeland Security Secretary Paul Rappaport—our designated survivor.”

The tension evident in Bethany Townsend’s expression made Ellis uneasy. There was a look of concern about the president’s physician that the speaker simply did not understand or trust. Did Townsend know about her sneaking into the Senate Chamber? Could she be aware of her role in the murder of Archibald Jakes? If so, why was Townsend the one confronting her, and not Allaire. Something did not add up, and Ellis was never in the mood for surprises.

Even more disturbing was that Townsend had come accompanied by Henry Tilden. At the physician’s request, they had convened at the rostrum where their conversation would not easily be overheard. Given that Ellis had clearly declared her continuing enmity for Allaire and her belief that he was lying to everybody and using the situation for his personal and political gain, the visit from his personal doctor was unsettling. As soon as possible, Ellis vowed, she would have to take control of the situation. Tilden was a dimwit, but Townsend was sharp, and given their limited contact over the years, something of an unknown commodity.

“We have a serious situation,” Townsend began.

“That seems rather obvious, Doctor,” Ellis said. “So I trust you are not here to rehash old business.”

“I do have new concerns, Madam Speaker,” Townsend replied. “And they revolve around President Allaire.”

Ellis, her spirit suddenly taking flight, looked on gravely, mirroring Tilden’s worried expression. Thanks to her connection with Genesis, and her nearly disastrous encounter with Group C, she knew specifics about the virus and its horrific physiological effects. Was Allaire suddenly infected? Had he fallen victim to his own creation? That had to be it. Destiny had taken her firmly by the hand.

“Is there something wrong with the president?” Tilden asked. “I was with him just a few hours ago. We were discussing supply shipments. He seemed fine to me. Anxious, but fine.”

Ellis was pleased that Tilden had been excluded from whatever was going on, but she was hardly surprised. Clearly, Allaire considered him as much of a dimwit as she did.

“I, too, thought he was doing well,” Townsend said. “But now there’s been an incident.”

Again, Ellis felt a rush. Bad things should happen to bad people, she was thinking.

“What sort of incident?” Tilden asked.

“The president went into a rage during a video conference with the virologist who is working on the antiviral treatment.”

“Do you know what set him off?” Ellis asked.

“That’s the strangest thing of all,” Townsend replied. “Nothing really did it. It was like a switch had been thrown. Even the president admits that his outburst was disproportionate to the issue being discussed.”

The virus, Ellis thought. It could be stress, but she sensed it was infection.

Then she realized a downside to Allaire’s getting infected that she had not considered. Her thoughts opened on the horror she and O’Neil had encountered within the Senate Chamber. The lethal insanity of Archibald Jakes. The blood. The sickness and stench fouling the room. The wretched sounds of suffering. If Allaire was succumbing to the same malady, then this virus could be spreading faster than Genesis had led her to believe it would.

“So, does Allaire—excuse me, President Allaire—know you’re speaking with us?” she asked. “I mean, you are his physician. Is it appropriate to be discussing his medical status with us?”

“He doesn’t know that I’m speaking to you about this,” Townsend admitted. “But I have another duty to perform that exceeds my obligations to any privacy standards.”

“Duty?”

Ellis already knew what was coming. She had to hold on to the side of her chair to keep from floating.

“The Twenty-Fifth Amendment to the United States Constitution,” Townsend said.

“Are you suggesting the situation is so dire that we must consider forcibly removing the president from office?” Ellis asked.

Of course, she now knew that was exactly what Townsend had come to discuss. Still, it was meaningful to her to hear the words spoken aloud.

“I have not approached President Allaire about transmitting to Vice President Tilden, our president pro tempore of the Senate, and yourself, a written declaration that he is unable to discharge his duties. But this is a matter we discussed soon after the virus was released.”

Ellis knew the mechanics of the Twenty-Fifth Amendment verbatim. Tilden, along with either Congress, or the Cabinet and principal officers of the executive branch, could remove the president from office with a simple majority vote. The president’s personal physician held tremendous influence in determining how people would vote.

“What are you proposing we do, Dr. Townsend?” Ellis asked, barely able to keep a tremor from her voice.

The stars were aligning.

“For now, nothing,” Townsend said. “But Mr. Vice President, you are second in line to ascend to the presidency, and Madam Speaker, you are third. I felt it was my obligation to inform you both of the situation, as you, Henry, may be called upon to take the presidential oath of office.”

Tilden grimaced in an honest display of remorse. Ellis did the same, but her apparent dismay was anything but honest.

“Let’s pray it doesn’t come to that,” Tilden said.

“I suggest that we meet at least every two hours on the hour so that we’re all on the same page,” Townsend said. “If the situation with the president worsens between checkpoints, I shall simply summon you both back to the rostrum and we will decide a course of action from there. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” both said.

The meeting adjourned, and Ellis set off to locate Gladstone. Her mind was on the biocontainment suit she saw hanging by the Senate Chamber door. She regretted now not putting it on, as she had subjected herself to a high concentration of infected air. Hopefully, she would not manifest signs of infection until she had shepherded the Genesis bill through Congress. The video on her BlackBerry of Group C, and the guarantee from Genesis of a treatment, should be enough to drive the legislation home in no time.

Before she could locate Gladstone, she felt a vibration against her ribs. The Genesis messaging device, secured there with masking tape, was buzzing for her attention. Ellis made a hasty change of direction and returned to the ladies’ room, where she felt it safest to read and respond. The message from Genesis was simple and to the point.