Page 17 of Air Force One
“Congratulations, Madame President.”
“Congratulations?” Madame President? She supposed that much was accurate, but—“Con. Grat. U. Lations?” Her voice rose to a shout, something she prided herself in never doing—except with her two useless ex-husbands.
Miranda ducked behind Andi, then peeked out over her shoulder before hunkering lower because Andi was two inches shorter. “Isn’t that the correct thing to say to someone who has just become President? I’m unsure of the social protocols.”
“No. No!” Sarah answered before Andi could speak, then managed a quivering breath, but still couldn’t release her clenched fists. “Maybe he is still…”
Miranda was shaking her head.
“…alive?” The pleading tone that slipped into her voice was wholly unintentional.
Miranda pointed at the screen behind her without turning or moving out from behind Andi. The same screen she’d barely glanced at before offering her congratulations. “Note the fixed position of the tail in the helicopter’s camera. That indicates that the fuselage was breeched. This is not a submarine with multiple airtight compartments. If it hadn’t been breached, it would exhibit sufficient positive buoyancy and currently be floating on the surface or at least bobbing about. The cabin is flooded.”
Sarah looked at the screen. If not for the helicopter’s view, it would seem as if the airplane’s tail section did bob about in the waves and Miranda was wrong. But it didn’t. The aftermost tip of the vertical tail rudder was exposed in each trough…but buried by each peak. From the stable viewpoint of the USCG helo, the tail remained fixed at the center of the screen and the water moved up and down past it.
“There is also debris on the water…” Miranda still didn’t need to turn, apparently having captured everything in a single gestalt, “…and a body. I’ll begin my investigation now. Would you like to ask the helicopter pilot to recover any floating evidence, or should I do so?”
Evidence! That was a dead person out there. A whole plane full of dead people. And she called it evidence? Sarah waved a hand at her weakly, signaling she could go.
Miranda turned partly away, then turned back. “You’ll want to find a Supreme Court justice and make an official broadcast that you’re in control of the government.”
Sarah could only nod. She wasn’t thinking that far ahead, but Miranda Chase was. “Did you think this all through just now?”
“Oh no. It was because Roy was at my house when he announced Vice President Clark Winston had been murdered.”
“At your house?”
“Yes. Though it burned down in a forest fire since then, so you can’t make your announcement from there. But you don’t appear to recall, he stated that urgency was essential at the time.”
Finally, Sarah’s mind cleared enough to think. She had been there for that broadcast. Back then she’d been the newly appointed National Security Advisor, still dazzled by the wonder of it all, which seemed a lifetime ago. They’d all stood together in Miranda’s living room on her private island in the Pacific Northwest: President Cole, General Drake Nason, and the core five members of the President’s protection detail.
And of them all, she and Miranda were now the sole survivors.
15
Miranda was halfway to the door of the President’s PEOC office. She was unclear if that was technically correct as Sarah Feldman hadn’t been sworn in yet, so perhaps it was still the President-elect’s office—or was being Vice President a higher office? It didn’t seem appropriate to ask.
“Ms. Chase,” the President-elect / Vice President / President called out. Or should it be from highest to lowest possible offices: President / Vice President / President-elect?
Miranda had only just started thinking about contacting her team, so it wasn’t too disorienting to delay her departure. “Yes?”
“Thank you, Ms. Chase.”
“You’re welcome…” except now it was a problem. “I don’t know by which title to call you as you haven’t been sworn in yet.”
“You’re right. You may call me Sarah. Felicia, find me a judge.”
“The White House is in hard lockdown. That will take some time.” A phone rang and Felicia answered it, said “Uh-huh,” twice and hung up. “CNN has the crash from a flight tracker and is planning to go live in five minutes.”
“That means we have to go live in four. People should witness me taking the oath. How the hell am I supposed to find a judge in that time?”
Miranda held up her hand.
“What?” Miranda once against retreated behind Andi. This time she remembered to duck lower from the start so that only her eyes and the top of her head showed. “I’m sorry. What do you have to say? And you don’t have to raise your hand.”
Miranda peered out carefully, though she didn’t step clear. Her voice would be partly muffled by the back of Andi’s shoulder. She hoped it was understandable as she wasn’t moving an inch?—
Oh! She finally understood the Secret Service agent’s instruction when they’d received Drake’s phone call. She went to pat herself on the back for learning something new, when she noticed everyone in the room was watching her. After a moment she remembered why.
