Page 147 of State of Grace (First Family 2)

Freddie was upon them before Lucas could fire again. “Put it down and get out of the car with your hands up. Now!”

While Sam moved out of the line of fire, Freddie waited for Lucas to emerge from the car. The second he got out, Freddie cuffed him.

“Are you hit?” Freddie cried as Vernon and Jimmy joined them, guns drawn.

“Glancing blow.” When she tried to get up, the world spun around her, so she sat.

Freddie called for backup and a bus and then put pressure on the wound that had her howling in pain.

“Son of a bitch,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Cut that out!”

“No, you’re bleeding like crazy.”

He pushed even harder on the wound, and she passed out.

An hour before he was due to formally announce his new vice presidential nominee, Nick conducted a press scrum in the Oval Office. They surrounded his desk with lights, boom microphones, cameras and a relentless onslaught of questions covering everything from the shooting in Des Moines and his call for common sense gun control to former secretary Ruskin’s accusations of incompetence, the situation in the Gulf of Suez, Nick’s youthful inexperience, his choice of a vice president, his wife’s career, the custody case that Cleo’s parents had made public before the gag order was issued and so on.

By the time Terry and Trevor finally cleared the room, Nick was tapped out.

“Can you remind me again why people want this job so badly?” he asked Terry when they were alone.

“They want the power of it, but if they knew what it was really like, they’d probably run for their lives.”

“No kidding. I need a drink after that.”

“We can arrange for one.”

“Nah, I’d better wait until the next press event is over. Once I start, I might never stop.”

“Can’t say I blame you, but you’re doing great so far. Your approval rating is holding right around fifty percent, which is damned good in this polarized climate.”

The thought that half the people polled didn’t approve of him was daunting, though. “Lots of room for improvement.”

“We’re seeing many comments on the POTUS social media accounts about how it’s high time for some young blood and new ideas in the White House. For every person that doesn’t approve of you being the youngest president in history, ten more think you’re just what we need.”

“I guess that’s something,” Nick said, certain his upcoming thirty-eighth birthday wasn’t going to do him any favors, as it would remind people once again just how young he was, although he could feel the job aging him at a rapid clip. He wondered if his hair would turn gray or white while he was in office like it had for so many previous presidents. Cheery thoughts.

“It’s a good place to start,” Terry said of his approval rating. “Dr. Flynn is here and was wondering if he could have a minute.”

“Of course. Ask him to come in.”

“I’ll be back to get you for the ceremony.”

Nick checked his watch, saw it was edging closer to six and wondered if Sam would get there in time. Or if she’d even remembered she was supposed to come. He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d forgotten, so he sent her a quick text to remind her the press event to announce Gretchen was at six thirty.

Harry came into the office as Nick’s lead Secret Service agent, John Brantley Jr., appeared in the door, signaling that he needed a minute.

“Just one second, Harry,” Nick said as he went to confer with Brant.

“Vernon has let us know that Lieutenant Holland sustained a wound to her arm in a shooting,” Brant said. “She’s being taken to GW Trauma, but the wound is not considered life threatening.”

Nick heard the words coming from Brant, and he understood what the agent was saying, but hearing that she’d had another near miss was like a shot to Nick’s heart. The wound is not considered life threatening… But a few inches to the left or right, and it’d be a whole other story.

“Mr. President?”

Nick focused on Brant.

“Is there anything we can do for you, sir?”