“I haven’t heard anything yet,” Nick said, “but due to national security concerns, there’ll be an autopsy.”
“Yes, we need to know,” Gloria said. “The country needs to know.”
“We’re taking care of everything, ma’am,” Hanigan said.
“Oh, Tom.” Gloria hugged their old friend. “You must be heartbroken too.”
“We all are, ma’am.”
They were escorted by Hanigan, Derek and other staffers Sam didn’t recognize back to the East Room, where Chief Justice Byron Riley waited for them. Also in the room were Terry O’Connor, Lilia Van Nostrand and her partner, Dr. Harry Flynn.
Sam was surprised to see her friend and aide and went to hug Lilia and Harry. “Thank you for being here.”
“Your husband thought it might help,” Lilia said.
“He’s the best, and so are you.”
“Everything will be okay.”
Sam released the other woman, who had been such an asset to her as second lady. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
“You got this, kid.” Harry gave Sam a warm smile that displayed his adorable dimples. “I know this isn’t what you’d had planned, but you’re going to be great. I know it.”
Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly, giving them a bug-eyed look that made them smile. They might’ve laughed if Mrs. Nelson and her daughters hadn’t been there. It wouldn’t do to show any sort of frivolity in the face of their tragic loss.
Nick held out a hand to her. “Samantha?”
For a second, she was frozen, unable to move or think or breathe out of sheer panic, the likes of which she hadn’t felt in quite some time. But then his earnest hazel-eyed gaze collided with hers, calming and centering her the way no one else could. She went to him and took his hand.
The White House photographer arranged them the way he wanted them with Riley in the center, Sam holding the Bible for Nick with Scotty at her side. Gloria Nelson and her daughters were to their right. A camera crew recorded the event on behalf of the White House press corps. The footage of the swearing-in would be released along with the news of Nelson’s death, all of it carefully choreographed.
“If you’d place your right hand on the Bible and repeat after me,” Riley said. “I, Nicholas Domenic Cappuano, 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.”
After Nick had repeated the oath, Riley shook his hand and then Sam’s and Scotty’s. “Congratulations, Mr. President, Mrs. Cappuano, young Mr. Cappuano.”
“Thank you for being here, Justice Riley,” Nick said.
“My prayers and best wishes are with you and your family as you rise to this occasion, Mr. President,” Riley said.
“Thank you so much.”
After Riley left, Hanigan and Terry approached them.
“Is it okay to release the news, sir?” Hanigan asked.
Nick had agreed to the wording of the release before the swearing-in, but this would tell the rest of the world that the United States of America had a new president. “Yes, please go ahead.” The release would mention that he’d be addressing the nation at eight p.m. Eastern Time. It would also report that he’d already been briefed on several pressing issues and had been given the preliminary information he needed as the new keeper of the nation’s nuclear security codes.
“I’d like to get Sam and Scotty home to bed if there’re no objections.”
“We have one additional piece of business that can’t wait until the morning,” Hanigan said.
“We need about fifteen minutes. Would you like to send your family home, or have them wait?”
“We’ll wait for you,” Sam said to Nick. “Take your time.”
“We’ll get him right back to you,” Hanigan said.
Hanigan led Nick and Terry to the West Wing and the Oval Office. A man in a military uniform followed them into the office carrying a large black bag that resembled an oversized briefcase.
The “nuclear football” was actually a metal briefcase inside a black leather “jacket” that served as a mobile command center to use in times of crisis when the president was away from regular communication centers, such as the White House Situation Room. In addition to nuclear-activation codes, the bag also contained the Black Book outlining options available to the president should retaliation be necessary, another book detailing classified site locations and a binder with Emergency Broadcast System information and procedures.
Nick had traveled with Nelson enough times to know the drill. The football would always be close at hand going forward. He hoped and prayed he’d never have to use it.
“Mr. President, I’m Lieutenant Commander Juan Rodriguez with the United States Navy. It’s my honor to serve a rotation as one of the military aides in charge of overseeing your emergency satchel.”
Nick, who was now the commander in chief, returned the other man’s salute. “Thank you, Commander.”
The phone call from Hanigan informing him of President Nelson’s death had been surreal. Taking the oath of office had been even more so. But this—realizing he was commander in chief of the United States armed forces—made his change in status as real as it got.
After briefing him on what he needed to know about the nuclear codes, Hanigan, Derek and Lieutenant Commander Rodriguez accompanied him back to the East Room, where Sam and Scotty waited for him.
“We’ll pick it up in the morning with next steps.” Hanigan shook Nick’s hand. “The usual protocol would be to put up you and your family at Blair House, but since you live locally and have established Secret Service protection there, the Secret Service has determined that you can remain in your own home until after the funeral. Mrs. Nelson will need some time to oversee the packing of their things.”
“Of course,” Nick said. “We want to be respectful of whatever she needs.”
Nick felt a huge sense of relief at knowing they’d be able to stay at their house, at least for a few more days.
“I’d like to meet with the cabinet tomorrow if you can make that happen,” Nick said to Tom and Terry.
“Yes, sir,” Tom said.
“Let’s bring Secretary of State Ruskin in by videoconference.”
“I’ll see to that.”
“And please keep Terry in the loop on anything we need to know as we make the transition.”
“Will do, Mr. President,” Hanigan said. “We’ll see you in the morning?”
“I’ll be here.”
Hanigan shook Nick’s hand. “Excellent.”
When the other man began to walk away, Nick said, “Tom.”
He turned back, gray eyebrow raised. “Yes, sir?”
“I just wanted to say… I’ve been where you are right now. The chief of staff to a high-ranking official who died in office. Like you with President Nelson, John O’Connor was also my longtime friend. If there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know.”
Hanigan seemed momentarily stunned by Nick’s kindness. In a cutthroat town like Washington, kindness was often in rare supply. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that. I’ll see you tomorrow.”