“I’ll want to meet him, thank him.”
Ralph nodded. “Yes, sir. Sir, you have to accept this. It happened on my watch…”
“Ralph, shut up. I am not going to fire you or let you quit. Put that out of your head right now. Now, I assume you have some sort of investigation going on. You don’t need to answer that; I know it’s true. If the investigation says you screwed up, or any of your people screwed up, we can hang the appropriate people then. You know that I won’t have any problem doing that. So, give it a rest, let the job continue, and let’s see what they figure out.”
Marilyn spoke up at that. “Mister Basham, I saw one of your agents bleeding. Didn’t he get shot, too?”
“Yes, ma’am. The bullet that hit the President clipped one of the agents in the arm first.”
“Then, your men were doing their job, weren’t they?”
He didn’t answer, so I turned to my wife and said, “Go out there and find this replacement fellow.”
She smiled at me and went to the door. She opened the door and said something I couldn’t hear, while Basham simply shook his head. She led another man into the room.
“You asked for me, Mister President?”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Brian Nagel, the Deputy Director of the Secret Service, sir. Director Basham ordered me to come here,” he replied.
“You don’t think I should fire him?”
“No sir!”
“Good for you. Come here. Take this envelope back to your office and have it shredded. You are still the Deputy Director.” I turned my head to Basham. “If it’s necessary to fire you, I’ll let you know, but until then you are still the Director.” Nagel looked relieved and Basham looked embarrassed. “Wait a minute… if McCain is the Acting President, can I do that?”
For the first time, Ralph Basham smiled. “You’re still the President, sir. Mister McCain is already on his way over to see you.”
I smiled. “Good! This can get confusing, can’t it!?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Listen, you get back to work. We’ll talk some more.” I turned to Marilyn. “When’s lunch? I’m starving!”
When Basham and Nagel left, Hawley, Renfrew, and the White House Physician, Tubb, came in. “Gentlemen! Any chance I can get something to eat? A nice steak and a beer would be good.”
They looked at each other and smiled. “We’ll take that under advisement, Mister President,” answered Tubb. He joined in on the poking and prodding, and they had a nurse pull some of the tubes out of me. Then I got a small bowl of broth and some red Jell-O.
I was grumbling about that when John McCain showed up. “Hello, John. Would you like some delicious broth and Jell-O?” I asked.
He smiled. “I wouldn’t want to interfere with your recovery. It’s good to see you, Carl! How are you feeling? Hi, Marilyn.”
“Hi, John,” she said.
I answered, “Okay. A little sore. It’s weird, but it seems unreal. I don’t remember being shot, and now I am waking up four days later. What’s been going on? Somebody told me you were named Acting President.”
McCain nodded. “We did that the next morning, when it became obvious you were going to be out of it for awhile. We used Section Four of the 25th Amendment like you did, but nobody was too worried. Not to be blunt about it, but we knew where you were, at least.” It was my turn to nod in understanding. “Now that you’re awake, if the doctors clear you, you can get the job back. I think the White House Counsel is drawing up some paperwork already.”
“Sounds good. Has anything been going on in the world that I missed?”
“Just the usual mayhem and chaos. Everybody has been calling with words of sympathy. I am sure that some of them might even be real.”
Marilyn snorted and rolled her eyes.
“And you still want this job?” I asked, shaking my head and smiling.
He laughed at that. “When do you get out of here?”
I looked over at my wife who looked mystified, so we called in Doctor Tubb. I needed to do some more healing in the hospital, and then begin rebuilding my strength and do some rehabilitation and physical therapy. Currently the plan was to spend one more night at Shock Trauma, and then transfer me to Bethesda for a few days, until I could return to the White House.
That part didn’t surprise me. Shock Trauma is actually the Shock Trauma Center, part of the University of Maryland Medical Center, and is one of the finest emergency rooms in the nation. All it handles are severe emergencies and trauma cases — like gunshot victims, for instance. I wasn’t even sure they had beds that weren’t in an Intensive Care Unit. They definitely were not a long term care facility or a rehab center.
“I probably need to make a statement at some point, but I must look like hell right now. I assume there are reporters down below waiting to pronounce me dead?” All three of them laughed and nodded at that. “You should come up with a statement that since only the good die young, I will be around for a long time to come. Something like that, anyway.”
“You need some rest, Mister President,” announced the doctor.
Suddenly I felt tired. “Maybe so.” Marilyn kissed me and they left.
I dozed for a few hours and woke up again when a nurse came in to poke and prod. I was able to catch the evening news, and I wasn’t surprised to find that I was the lead item. It was reported that I was awake and responding, and my condition was improving rapidly. Then they had excerpts from the press briefing with Marilyn, John McCain, and Doctor Tubb. They reported the same things (awake, responding, improving) and that I had thanked the brave Secret Service agents and Baltimore City Police officers, and the doctors and nurses at Shock Trauma. I would remain hospitalized for a few days more, and would be able to give a statement in a day or two.
I thought the best line was when somebody asked Marilyn if I seemed back to normal. She replied, “Well, Carl asked for a steak and a beer, and he got kind of grouchy when they served him broth and Jell-O. That’s pretty normal, don’t you think?” I had to laugh at that. Then I ate my evening meal of broth and Jell-O.
Marilyn brought Charlie and the girls to see me that evening. Charlie had flown in from where he was racing, and Molly and Holly came in from where they were going to school. It was good to see them, and then we sent them back to their own lives. Charlie had missed a race over the weekend, and the girls were starting the fall semesters at Princeton and Maryland. They really were all grown up.
The next morning, after some more poking and prodding, and some more broth and Jell-O, along with juice and tea, I was transferred to the Naval Hospital in Bethesda. For that they simply brought in a regular medevac helicopter, loaded me on, and flew me to Bethesda. I got another checkup, and they pulled the rest of the tubes out, along with the catheter, and had me actually walk around some. I was a bit weak and unsteady, but everybody seemed to think I was making good progress. They also told me I would be able to get more solid foods in me. I asked for a steak; I was offered a vegetarian hamburger. “As soon as I get out of here, we are going to the drive-thru at McDonalds!” I told everybody. Marilyn damn near died laughing at me.
I was also able to meet with some of my staff. John Weisenholtz, the White House Counsel brought over a letter to be signed by me and Doctor Tubb that said I was alive and healthy and able to resume my duties as the President. There was a procedure to follow in order to send John McCain back to the dugout. Frank Stouffer came over and we reviewed what I had missed so far, and Will Brucis came over and we discussed an evening press conference. That could be held here at Bethesda, and Frank said he would have somebody bring over some clothing, something casual. Then I got some broth and a green salad, no dressing, for lunch. After lunch I did some more walking, and a physical therapist showed up to torture me. I really needed to get out of the hospital!