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She practically shoves it under his nose.
Voice tight, Hannah says, “Sergeant, I need to get to Suite 71. It’s a national emergency. Please don’t hold me up.”
The sergeant waits, and Hannah says, “Please.”
He picks up a phone, drops it, says, “Crap. Hey, Tomas! Over here.”
A uniformed security officer comes from his station, and the sergeant says, “Something’s up. Take these two women up to Suite 71.”
The officer looks suspicious. “Has this been cleared?”
Hannah says, “Yes, cleared all the way.”
“All right,” the officer says. “Follow me.”
Ninety seconds later, off at the seventh floor after taking a private elevator. A guard station is right outside the doors and she barrels right up, shows her ID, and says, “I need to see the vice president. Immediately. This is a national emergency.”
One of the two female security officers picks up a phone, speaks low into it, and in a minute an older male physician in a white coat strides down the luxurious hallway, with wood paneling and antique paintings.
“Captain Callaghan, Walter Reed commander,” he says. “What’s going on here?”
Minute by minute, slipping by.
Once more, she shows her ID. “Captain, is the vice president conscious? Able to hear and talk?”
He frowns. “Well, in a manner of speaking. She’s still quite weak. We just removed an implant—”
Hannah holds up her hand. “Captain, I’ve just come from the White House. Keegan Barrett has resigned his office. The vice president needs to be sworn in.”
Callaghan says, “Wait, how come I haven’t heard of this?”
“Damn it, Captain, it just happened less than a half hour ago,” she yells. “And the damn fool has ordered a cyberattack against China that will knock us back to the nineteenth century! We’ve got to swear in Vice President Hernandez and stop this war. Now, take me there, or I’ll find someone who will.”
Captain Callaghan seems to grit his teeth.
“All right, this way.”
Hannah follows him, going by one door, and another, Noa right beside her, the poor woman’s face pale. They enter a suite that looks like it belongs to a high-end hotel in Manhattan. Two female Secret Service agents stand and seem to recognize both her and the Navy captain.
Vice President Laura Hernandez is sitting up in her bed, facedrawn and pale, sipping through a straw from a plastic cup. Three nurses in brightly colored scrubs are hovering around her bed when Hannah barges right in.
“Madam Vice President,” Hannah says. “How are you feeling?”
Her voice is a whisper. “Like … I got run over … by a truck … wait, I know …. you.”
“I’m CIA Director Hannah Abrams, ma’am, and we’re in the middle of an emerging national emergency,” she says. “President Keegan Barrett has resigned. We need to swear you in.”
“What … how … how did that happen …?”
From a large clock in the room, she can see that it’s now 11:51 a.m.
“Reasons of ill health, ma’am,” she says. “And he’s issued a command to commence war against China at twelve hundred hours. We’ve got to get you sworn in, have you countermand those orders.”
She blinks and says, “Not dreaming … am I?”
Hannah shakes her head. “No, Madam Vice President, not a dream. More like a nightmare.”
Hernandez coughs and coughs. “Okay … if we have to … I … hope this isn’t some … damn joke …”
