Debt of Honor - Tom Clancy [472]
"Clear!" the one with the Uzi said at the far end of the corridor.
"Are you okay, Mr. President?"
"Wait a minute, what about—"
"JUMPER is dead," Price said simply. The other agents had heard the same radio chatter and had formed a very tight ring around their principal. Ryan had not and was still disoriented and trying to catch up.
"We have a Suburban outside!" Frank called. "Let's go!"
"Okay, sir. the drill is to get you the hell away from here. Please follow me," Andrea Price said, lowering her weapon just a little.
"Wail, now wait a minute, what are you saying? The President, Helen—"
"RIFLE THREE, this is Price. Anybody get out?"
"No chance, Price. No chance," the sniper replied.
"Mr. President, we have to get you to a place of safety. Follow me, please."
It turned out that there were two of the oversized vehicles. Jack was forcibly separated from his family and pushed into the first one.
"What about my family?" he demanded, now seeing the orange pyre that had been the centerpiece of America's government only four minutes earlier. "Oh, my God…"
"We'll take them to…to…"
"Take them to the Marine Barracks at Eighth and I streets. I want Marines around them now. okay?" Later, Ryan would remember that his first presidential order was something from his own past.
"Yes, sir." Price keyed her mike. "SURGEON and kids go to Eighth and I. Tell the Marines they're coming!"
His vehicle just headed down New Jersey Avenue, away from the Hill, Ryan saw, and for all their sophisticated training the Secret Service people were mainly trying to clear the area.
"Come around north," Jack told them.
"Sir, the White House—"
"A place with TVs, and right now. I think we need a judge, too." That idea didn't come from reason or analysis, Jack realized. It just came.
The Chevy Suburban headed well west before turning north and looping back toward Union Station. The streets were alive now with police and fire vehicles. Air Force helicopters from Andrews were circling overhead, probably to keep news choppers away. Ryan got out of the car under his own power and walked within his protective ring to the entrance of the building where CNN operated. It was just the closest. More agents were arriving now, enough that Ryan actually felt safe, knowing how foolish that feeling was. He was taken upstairs to a holding room until another agent arrived with someone else a few minutes later.
"This is Judge Peter Johnson, D.C. Federal Court," an agent told Jack.
"Is this what I think?" the judge asked.
"I'm afraid so, sir. I'm not a lawyer. Is this legal?" the President asked.
Again it was Agent Price: "President Coolidge was sworn by his father, a county justice of the peace. It's legal," she assured both men.
A camera came close. Ryan put his hand on the Bible, and the judge went from memory.
"I—state your name, please."
"I, John Patrick Ryan—"
"Do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States."
"Do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States…and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States, so help me God." Jack completed the oath from memory. It was little different, really, from the one he had sworn as a Marine officer, and it meant the same thing.
"You hardly needed me at all," Johnson said quietly. "Congratulations, Mr. President." To both men it seemed an odd thing to say, but Ryan took his hand anyway. "God bless you."
Jack looked around the room. Out the windows he could see the fires on the Hill. Then he turned back to the camera, for beyond it were millions, and like it or not, they were looking back at him, and to him. Ryan took a breath, not knowing that his tie was crooked in his collar.
"Ladies and gentlemen, what happened tonight was an attempt by someone to destroy the government of the United States. They killed President Durling, and I guess they killed most of the Congress—it's too soon, I'm