My roommate had had the presence of mind to make sure that I had my White House ID when I left the apartment, something that, though I didn�t understand her insistence in my state of shock, I was grateful for after I parked my car ten blocks away and managed to push my way through to the front of the blockade. After finally finding one of the Secret Service agents who knew me�James Franklin, I recalled later�I was allowed in and directed to a private waiting room on the surgical floor where �the others� were waiting for news. Agent Franklin couldn�t tell me how the President was. In the minute and a half that we yelled at each other over the din of the impromptu vigil�as most vigils are�all I managed to get out of him was that someone inside would tell me where to go. So I went inside the hospital and a nurse directed me to the elevators where another agent checked my ID and then sent me up to the waiting room.
When I push open the door some man, a doctor I assume, is talking.
��Twelve to fourteen hours so��
�I�m sorry, they told me I should come back here? I�m sorry. Is there word on the President?� I asked, flustered and terrified.
�The President�s going to be fine,� CJ said softly, clearly drained by the events of the night
�Oh, thank God,� I said, sighing. �Oh, thank God, that�s the best news I�ve ever heard. I got here as fast as I could. I had a hard time getting in. I had�I had to find an agent who knew me, and I was shaking. I was just�I didn�t know��
�Donna,� Toby said in his typically Toby tone of voice, cutting off my babbling. �Josh was hit.�
Those three words just didn�t compute. �Hit�hit with what?�
Toby waited a beat to see if anyone else was going to jump in and save him from delivering the news, but no one spoke.
�He was shot�in the chest.�