This 44-part series began running in WCT Nov. 8. Readers can read all the installments to date at www.windycitymediagroup.com
From the journal of John 'Jack' Quincy Adams, Chief Secret Service Special Agent in Charge, The White House. Code Name: One.
Part 25. Events-Again
Jack Adams, the Secret Service agent charged with assassinating President George W. Bush and being held for psychiatric evaluation, is telling about one fateful night in the Oval Office that opened up the door for a new America. ( Note: POTUS= President of The United States. Diadem= the Oval Office. )
Trailblazer began doing two things he had not done before: staying late in the office, and talking to me. I knew what this sudden devotion to work was really about: Laura was increasingly moody and withdrawn and her public access had been severely curtailed.
About a week before Christmas we were in the office late. I was starting to resent this new habit, especially since it was bearing down on the holiday and I had shopping to do for the kids. Plus, there was Gracie. I had grown dependent upon the little dog that Quincy had given me. I looked forward to sitting by the fire with her every night.
Around 11:30 Trailblazer stood up, stretched, and said, 'Let's get us a Dr. Pepper.'
'Excuse me? Sir?'
'Let's go down to the Mess and get us a Dr. Pepper. What say, One? Let's go mess with the Mess staff.' He laughed as he walked toward me, waiting for me to put my jacket on. 'They get all discombobulated when I go down there. Cracks me up.'
I slipped on my suit jacket and we headed for the outer offices. When we opened the door, Two jumped up from where he had been sitting and buttoned his jacket, then lifted his wrist to his mouth and said, sotto voce, 'Trailblazer is on the move, going south; repeat: POTUS is walking south.' That was the in-house network's cue to wake up and watch for Trailblazer as he made his way through the West Wing toward the staircase that leads to the Mess.
As Two raced to step in front of us, Three fell in behind. Then the president put his hand on my shoulder and said, 'I want your opinion on a couple things. Laura tells me you're a regular guy. She reminded me you're from Midland. I forgot about that.'
This made me nervous; they had been talking about me.
'One, how do you think I'm doin' with security? I mean Homeland Security and all that. Are your friends feeling safe? Do you think we're convincing people that….'
Just as we were beginning to descend the stairs, my earpiece began talking to me. 'One, get Trailblazer back to Diadem, Code Lockdown. All W2 agents proceed to stations for Lockdown. Circle One agents, report to Diadem for Lockdown. Repeat: Code Lockdown, Code Lockdown. Proceed to stations. This is not a drill. Now!'
'Sir,' I said, interrupting him, 'we have to return to the Oval Office.'
'What?' He stopped on the stairs, but didn't turn around to go back.
I gently took his arm and led him back up the stairs with agents Two and Three front and back. 'It's a lockdown, Mr. President. I'm sure it's nothing, but we have to return to Diadem immediately. I'm sure someone will be there to explain.'
Then, just like they rehearse it once a month in the wee hours of the morning during the graveyard shift, a dozen agents appeared out of nowhere, surrounded POTUS, and almost without our even having to move our legs, we were moving toward the Oval Office.
When we opened the door and stepped inside, the room was ringed with several more agents and a few Marine honor guards next to the French doors that lead outside. The curtains were drawn and Raife was waiting for us along with his assistant.
'What's going on?' Trailblazer asked, moving to stand behind his desk, a place he defaulted to whenever more than three or four men were in the office.
'Sir,' Raife began, 'the vice president has had a heart attack.'
Trailblazer put his hands forward and touched the desk, instinctively looking for balance. 'Is it serious? Is he all right?'
'Mr. President,' Raife said, 'The vice president died at 11:15 p.m. this evening.'
