A Shot In The Dark

What an evening it had been. Almost everyone was at Camp David, celebrating the Fourth of July with the First Family. The only people who weren't there were Josh and Donna, who was still in Germany recovering from her injuries. She remained in their prayers.

Abbey and Jed lay curled up together on the bed, half asleep and dreaming. Abbey was giggling in her sleep and Jed was pressing lazy kisses on her shoulder, listening to the little heard sound of her laughter bouncing off the walls, reverberating outside through the open balcony doors and fading into the night. He loved the sound her of her laughter. In that moment no other sound could be heard and there was no other that he cared about. He wouldn't lose her. He didn't hear what someone else heard.

Near the rear entrance to the Camp, a silent solitary figure moved across the ground, stealthily steering clear of every alarm. The only people who would see him before his task was done, lay dying by the swinging iron gates. He had a task. Failure was not an option. He would not fail.

Jed stroked Abbey's hair with a sleepy hand. She murmured and snuggled closer, her hand reaching out to catch his, giving it an affectionate kiss. A mumbled 'I love you' was the last thing Jed heard before he fell asleep. Taking a moment to listen to his easy breath, Abbey followed him into his rest, not expecting to wake for hours. She would not.

Two more agents fell in the man's wake. Then four. They never had the chance to reach for their earpieces. He was at the staircase leading to the First Couple's upstairs cabin. A contingent of agents sat unawares in the apartment below. How he'd gotten past them, they'd never know. He took the stairs one, then two, then three at a time. He was light on his feet.

Abbey tossed and turned somehow knowing that her refuge was being encroached upon. He unconsciously soothed her, throwing an arm over her side. She stopped moving, but her rest was not sound. She mumbled in her sleep, whimpering in bewildered fright. Something was about to happen. Even in her sleep, her instinct was to protect him. She turned to her side and wrapped her arms around him, throwing a leg over his. He buried his head in her shoulder, mumbling softly. Her fear grew, as somewhere not as far off as she'd hoped, a door opened that she knew should not have.

He was already inside before anyone suspected a thing. It wasn't long before he with his keen hearing could make out the sound of feet trooping towards the building over the grass. He fancied he could hear bones crack as someone dark-clad made silent hand signals to his subordinates. They were coming. They were close. He was closer. He was within sight of their bedroom door. He was nearly done.

Hard footsteps climbed the stairs, urgency heavy in the air. They were close. He was closer. The door opened and all he could see was the bed, deep in shadow from the light of the moon filtering in through the open terrace doors. They were wrapped together in an embrace he envied. He raised his gun to aim just as the door slammed open and a flood of agents filled the front room behind his back. He had one chance, one shot. He would not fail. He couldn't.

She felt the unholy cool enter the room and her eyes opened against her will. This, she didn't want or need to see. There was a shadow that loomed large, but impotent against the door. Her arms tightened around Jed. Something glinted hard and horrible in his hand and she knew.

They were coming to take him down. Their voices ordering him to surrender his weapon and kneel on the ground were muffled in his ears. He had one shot.

Jed stirred beside Abbey on the bed. He could feel her awake. Something was wrong. He looked beyond her and saw what she'd seen. As he saw a terrifying muffle flash, something inside her compelled her to sit up. Her body jerked back and he felt a leaden weight fall on top of him.

The man didn't get to take another shot as he was struck down in a deafening hail of bullets. Only the frantic steps of agents marred the silence that followed as they took upon the bedroom and the President's mad sobs as he cradled his unmoving wife in his arms.

There was no second shot. He'd failed.

She hadn't made a sound.

Or had he?

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