Madam President (29 page)

Lauren squeezed Dev's hand. "You know I'll have to see it eventually. Let's get it over with together."
She needs you to be strong. Don't get sick or start crying like some pathetic baby again.

In only a few moments everything was ready, and Dev had ordered the room cleared of everyone but Lauren. She leaned a little closer to the writer. "You ready?" The younger woman's nod seemed hesitant, and Dev briefly considered simply calling the whole thing off, and waiting to view the tape after Lauren had gone home for the day. But Lauren was right. She would have to see it eventually for the book anyway. And at least now they'd be together. "Um... Lauren, this is a combination of several tapes that were running at the same time and have been put together for the best angles. These weren't made for television. The Secret Service films all my public appearances for security reasons. But what happened, the shooting part, is unedited. You know that, right?"

Lauren kept her voice even and her eyes focused straight ahead, though her voice was slightly strained. "I know."

Dev gave a short nod. "Start video."

Lauren found herself taking in a deep breath and holding it when the image came to life in front of them. She smiled at Dev, standing on stage in her dark slacks, tan shirt and camelhair jacket—which was a few shades darker than the shirt. The applause in the auditorium died down, and Dev perched on a chair to address the students.

"Who called you and told you what had happened?" the dark-haired woman asked quietly, her mouth near Lauren's ear, but her eyes on the unfolding scene.

Lauren licked her lips, remembering Jane's pale face and shaky voice. "Umm... Jane," she replied softly. "Jane called me."

The President nodded. "She was a good choice for the job. Jane always holds together, no matter what." Dev briefly remembered getting word about Samantha's accident. It was Jane who had broken the news.

Lauren nodded, her attention split between Dev's real life voice, burring quietly in her ear, and the image of Devlyn at the foot of the bed. "She was great."

Dev's grip on Lauren's hand tightened as the video continued to play. With a start she realized she could be hurting the smaller woman, though Lauren hadn't mentioned it. She loosened her grip and patted the slender hand before regretfully resting her palm on her thigh. Dev immediately felt the loss and balled her hand into a fist.

Lauren had been so busy over the past couple of days she hadn't spent a lot of time thinking about the exact circumstances of the shooting. She'd spent countless hours at the hospital. And, at Dev's request, made sure the children knew what had happened, but weren't scared out of their wits. Though she wasn't convinced she had been completely successful on that front. The kids had already lost one mother. The looks on their little faces when Lauren told them Devlyn was in the hospital nearly broke her heart. Thank God for Emma, who immediately stepped in to help when Lauren began to flounder.

Lauren watched the video with intent eyes, scanning the shots of the crowd for the crazy boy who had tried to kill Dev. But no one looked out of place. Everyone seemed happy and excited that the President had made time for them in her busy schedule.

"Where is he?" Lauren whispered to herself, frustrated that she couldn't spot him right away.
A killer should be immediately recognizable, shouldn't he? He should... well... look guilty, sinister, something.
Lauren knew it was a ridiculously naive thought. But she couldn't help but think it easier. It would make things so much easier. "I always foreshadow in my books," she mumbled.

Dev turned away from the playback. "What? Pause video," she ordered in a louder voice. "What did you say?"

Lauren frowned. "I don't see him anywhere. The camera is panning the audience, but I can't spot him."

"Well, if he'd been that easy to spot I'm sure the Secret Service would have picked him up before he got off four shots. I don't know for sure which one he was either. But the shots came from the center of the audience just as the crowd began to applaud when I was about to get off stage." Dev waved a hand in the direction of her frozen image. "Let's skip all the boring stuff about how my DNA Registration legislation could help capture criminals on the loose." She chuckled, "Funny that in this case it wouldn't have mattered either way. The shooter had never even had as much as a speeding ticket."

Lauren smiled weakly, not quite able to enjoy the irony that Dev seemed to. She could feel her stomach turning into a solid knot of tension and her palms growing sweaty. Her heart rate picked up in anticipation of what was to come, and she unconsciously leaned closer to Devlyn, reassuring herself that she was here. That she was alive.

"Video playback advance." Dev's eyes scanned the events as they flew by at five times their normal speed. She moved her hand slowly, letting it come to rest on Lauren's arm, stroking gently. "Halt. Regular play."

They watched together as Dev made a few parting comments and cracked a joke that had the students laughing and clapping. Then she gave a short wave and turned to leave. The band hadn't even cued up again before a well-dressed teenager, who had only seconds before been smiling and applauding like everyone else in the audience, stood and yanked a gun from the back waist band of his pants. He held it straight out and screamed, "Die, bitch!" as he pulled the trigger four times, with a brief pause between the third and fourth shots.

Dev flinched when the shots rang out. She watched with an odd sense of detachment as her body recoiled and blood began pouring from her shoulder, hip and face. The last shot, the one that hit her head, dropped her instantly.

Lauren's entire body jerked with the loud crack of the pistol. Her stomach lurched, and her heart jumped to her throat, the raw pain of the moment shocking her for several dazed seconds. She had known it was coming. But that still hadn't prepared her for witnessing Dev's body recoiling violently, then crumpling to the ground from the vicious impact of the shots. "God, Devlyn." Lauren whispered. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut just as a warm arm wrapped around her shoulder and pulled her close.

Suddenly, the camera angle changed, and the image of Dev on the stage was magnified to a close up. The sound quality was slightly worse because the background noise had risen to a dull roar, but it was still focused, allowing the viewer to hear every raspy, ragged breath Dev took.

"God..." Dev groaned, reaching up and smearing away the blood that was dripping into her eyes.

Three agents immediately descended upon her, using their bodies to shield her as several more Secret Service members tackled the boy in the audience and disarmed him. The camera angle shifted again, this time to an overhead shot. Michael Oaks was the first member of the President's staff to reach her side.

"They got the shooter. The Chief of Staff and Vice President Vincent are being notified, Madam President," Michael explained worriedly as an agent pressed his suit coat jacket into Dev's shoulder to stop the bleeding. Dev gasped.

Lauren sucked in a quick breath in response to seeing Dev's pain.

"The kids...?" Dev winced as two men rolled her onto a backboard.

Michael looked out into the audience, which was being herded out of the auditorium like spooked cattle. "They're fine, Madam President. No one else in the auditorium was hit."

"My children?" Dev's eyes closed as she struggled to move her left arm, but found it impossible.

"They're fine too. The nest has been notified, and all security precautions are being taken."

Devlyn opened her eyes and focused on one of the agents who was pressing a thick pile of bandages against her hip. "Bad?"

"No, Madam President." He leaned over and whispered to her, "This is nothing for Wonder Woman."

Dev blinked, and they were moving. Her confusion was evident, and she looked as though she was going into shock. "Mighty Mouse..."

Lauren burst into tears at the sound of her Secret Service name.

"It's okay," Dev whispered. "It all turned out all right." The President's men had done everything right. They had covered her and gotten her out of there more quickly than she remembered. Although, to be honest, she couldn't remember much, beyond a searing pain in her hip and shoulder and the smell of her own blood.

Then the video simply stopped after Dev's gurney was wheeled away, freezing on a shot of the bloodstained stage. Dev's gaze dropped to her lap, and she concentrated on that day. "That boy. I remember him. He, he kept smiling at me..."

"You remember him?" Lauren turned in her friend's loose embrace so that she could see Dev's face. The President had watched with little more than a flinch, though Lauren didn't miss that her face was slightly paler than when the tape began. "Out of that entire crowd?"

"Yeah. He was right there. Smiling at me. Listening to me. Watching me." Dev shook her head. "Hell, I thought he was interested in what I had to say."

Lauren's anger mounted as she imagined the teenager biding his time, waiting to murder Dev, smiling as she tried to connect with him, just knowing that he was going to kill her.
Little bastard!
She turned away from Dev and was struck again by the image of the bloodstained stage. "Jesus..." She pointed at the image. "Can you...?"

"I'm sorry. Image off." Dev looked to Lauren, who looked like she was going to throw up. "Are you all right?"

Tears filled the blonde's eyes again. "I... I..."

"Hey," Dev said softly as she reached out and cupped Lauren's cheek in her palm. "I'm okay. I might leak when I drink now, but I'm okay," she joked.

This time Lauren did laugh through her tears. "Okay," she sniffed. "You're right. I'm sorry for being a baby."

"Don't be sorry."
God, Dev. You haven't even asked about her mother. What kind of a lousy friend are you?
“How’s your mom?" She felt Lauren stiffen. "Do you need to go back to Tennessee to be with her?" Her heart went out to the younger woman.

Lauren pulled away a little, suddenly uncomfortable. "What, um... what exactly do you know about my mom?" She eyed Dev warily.

"I know what happened, Lauren. And I understand if you don't want to talk with me about it. I mean, I'm not family."
She's been here for me these last few days when her heart is probably back in Tennessee.
“If you want to talk, I'm here, okay?"

Lauren nodded, but continued to pull away. She wasn't ready for this discussion. Especially not now. Not after everything that had just happened with Dev. Lauren felt like she was on an emotional roller coaster, and, while a big part of her wanted to talk about it with someone, she just wasn't ready.

The blonde woman's father hadn't understood her leaving Anna to come back to Washington D.C. She'd tried to explain that Devlyn wasn't just part of her job, that she was a good friend, but that hadn't worked either. They'd had a horrible argument in the hospital, and, despite the fact that she wasn't close to either of her parents, her father's parting words had hurt her more than she'd thought possible.

The writer grabbed a tissue from the stand next to Dev's hospital bed. "I don't need to go back." She wiped her eyes. "There's nothing I can do back home." Dev remained silent, but Lauren could tell she wanted to know more, and her chest constricted at the prospect. The room began to close in on her. Air. That's what she needed. Clean air, without the scent of disinfectant. She needed to be
out
of the hospital.

Lauren nearly jumped from the bed, startling Dev in the process. "I... um... I'm going to tell David we're finished here." And without looking back she bolted across the room and flew out the door.

"Lauren! Wait!" Dev cursed inwardly when the shorter woman disappeared out the door. She wanted to follow her and try to apologize for upsetting her. She wanted to hold her and tell her everything would be all right.