A Heartbeat Away - Michael Palmer [6]
Allaire struggled to maintain his composure—seldom a difficult task for him. Behind and above the Capitol Police chief, he could see that Rebecca and Samantha, along with some others, had instinctively sat back down.
“I’ll tell you, Hank. I’ll tell everyone,” Allaire said. “First, though, we need order in this room, and we need it now.”
“But how…?”
Allaire had heard enough. Gripping Tomlinson firmly by the lapel, he pulled the man close to his body, distracting him long enough to extract the officer’s gun from his shoulder holster. Allaire had learned how to fire the semiautomatic SIG P226 as part of Operation Keepsake, a long-standing Secret Service program. As an emergency security precaution, Operation Keepsake was designed to impart Special Forces combat training to the president of the United States, or as he was commonly referred to by the agents, the POTUS. Before Tomlinson could react, Allaire raised the gun high above his head.
Four shots, fired in rapid succession and amplified by the sound system, exploded from the black-steel barrel. The discharges echoed deafeningly inside the enclosed chamber. Plaster from the ceiling where the bullets struck dropped onto several startled attendees. Silence quickly followed. Allaire wasted no time taking advantage of the change. He grabbed the microphone, turning up the volume until he heard feedback.
“This is the president of the United States. Please return to your original seats—precisely your original seats. I am commanding the military, the Secret Service, and the Capitol Police to see to it that there are no further attempts to leave this building. All exits have been secured. Right now, I need each and every one of you to sit down at your original seat immediately. You must be seated exactly where you were prior to the disturbance. This is a direct order from your president. As soon as you are back in your seats and have quieted down, I will explain what is going on.”
At first, only a few dozen seemed to be responding. Then Allaire dispatched two more shots, and within half a minute, nearly all the seats were filled. The few who refused to comply with the demand were roughly deposited in their places by the nearest soldier or policeman.
Allaire’s eyes swept across the rows of dignitaries, many of them among the best and the brightest his country had to offer, many of them his friends, all of them now in grave danger. Rebecca and Sam were together in the seats his staff had earlier reserved for them. For a moment, Allaire held his wife’s desperate gaze. Then he mouthed the words I love you and touched his finger to his eye, and next to his heart, before pointing it at Sam. It was a sign of affection they invented when their daughter was a child. She and her mother, in return, made the same gesture to him. Allaire could not think of a time that he loved them more.
As the president panned the faces in the crowd, a single thought would not let go. Never had he seen so much fear.
And yet, the seven hundred had no idea just how afraid they really should be.
CHAPTER 3
DAY 1
9:30 P.M. (EST)
Allaire stood with his hands pressed firmly on the lectern, trying to construct what he was going to say and how he was going to say it. His eyes, nearly unblinking, gazed forward. His mouth was dry. He had always loved being a physician, but after fifteen years as a practicing doc, he felt as if he wanted to do more, and turned to politics. How many times over the years before he left medicine had he sat with patients and given them the horrible news that barring a miracle, they were going to die from their illness? He used to feel that, because his sensitivity and empathy were genuine, he was reasonably effective at it.
Not this evening.
The crowd’s attention remained fixed on him. The anxious quiet was beyond tense, interrupted only by scattered volleys of coughing. Allaire knew it was time. These people wanted—needed—explanations, but he felt strongly that if he disclosed the whole truth about the virus, there would