Several very tense moments passed as the shots continued, until their
frequency dropped, and then they ceased altogether. Gina reacted immediately,
checking Charlie and Zoe for injuries. They were both unharmed, but clearly
frightened into a near state of paralysis.

"Get up," Gina said in a sharp voice, not wanting to be harsh but knowing
it might be the only thing that saved them. At first, neither moved. "Get up!"
she shouted fiercely.

Charlie snapped out of it first, and immediately jumped to his feet and
helped Gina drag Zoe to the same limo her father had been forced into. Zoe
didn't struggle, she just stumbled along, clearly in shock. Gina breathed a
momentary sigh of relief as she slammed the limo door shut and the tires
squealed as the driver hurried the President, Charlie, and Zoe to safety.
Two other agents, the one's who'd recently put the president in the limo,
joined her. "They're in the building now," one told her, and she nodded. Gina
was looking about, trying to assess the damage, when she heard the words in her
earpiece.

"Webster's down. Took two in the chest." That voiced sounded shaky.

"We've got an ambulance en route now."

"Flamingo and Princeton are unhurt and in the limo."

"Dragonfly's been hit in the arm. He went unconscious just a second ago,
but he was lucid before that."

"Montana's alright, and in the limo too."

Gina swept her gaze over the pavement and spotted the two tight knots of
agents that could only be the two injured staff members. She swallowed, the
shaken agent's words echoing in her head.
Webster's down, took two in the chest...

CJ and Sam were quite forcefully checked for injuries and before they'd
even had time to realize they weren't hurt they were being herded into a limo.
CJ was still too scared to protest loudly, and Sam wanted it to just end.
They both sat in the limo for a few seconds, rigid with fear. They jumped
when the door opened and Leo was shoved inside. He looked across at them both,
concern in his eyes.

"Are you two okay?" he asked. They nodded.

"We're not exactly at 100% but we're still alive and mostly uninjured,"
Sam said, a slight tremor shaking his voice. "Did you--did you see if--"

"No," Leo replied grimly. He was trying to make out anything through the
tinted glass but couldn't. They all flinched at the sound of squealing tires.

"The President," CJ murmured. Leo nodded.

"And Zoe and Charlie." He didn't add, "If they're alright," although it
was on the tip of his tongue. Sam and CJ seemed to hear the words anyways.
They waited a few more tense moments, wondering if their limo would speed
away, leaving them to worry over what had befallen the others, or if they'd
suddenly be joined. Finally, CJ couldn't take it anymore. She turned to the
secret service agent seated in the front seat. The limo driver was clearly
nervous, gripping the wheel with what seemed like desperation.

"Where are Josh and Toby?" she demanded. The agent looked like he was
about to answer when Leo caught sight of something through the dark tint of the
limo's windows.

"Oh God," he murmured. There were two small crowds of agents, all giving
significant protection for two bodies lying on the ground. It was difficult for
Leo to tell if it actually was Josh or Toby, as the secret service agents
offered little if any visibility. Then one of them shifted, and Leo caught
sight of Josh's suit. He still couldn't see Toby.

"Oh no," CJ whispered, joining Leo at the window. She watched, hoping for
some indication that they were alive, but the agents weren't dispersing. The
long wail of a siren, of many sirens, could be heard in the distance.
Sam looked over at the agent. "How--how bad is it?" he asked, the question
catching in his throat. The agent looked uncomfortable.

"They can't say, sir," he lied. Sam looked away, accepting the answer.
Josh. Toby.

Christ, this can't be happening.

Donna's heart was pounding so loudly, she couldn't hardly breathe. A
secret service agent had she and Margaret pinned against the wall of the
building, and the shouting voices of the crowd made it impossible to hear
anything but the gunshots echoing off the buildings.

Donna froze, cowering and terribly afraid, wishing to God she was anywhere
else. A glance at Margaret's tightly shut eyes told her the other aide was
thinking something similar.

Then, mercifully, the shots ceased. For a moment Donna didn't dare believe
it was actually over, but after a few more seconds yielded no further shots she
tried to stand. The agent roughly grabbed her arm and pulled her down, shaking
his head sharply. Donna bit her lip and looked around.
Josh. Where's Josh.

She craned her neck, hoping for a look on the other side of the fence. She
couldn't see anything; the roiling crowd and the agents were blocking any view
she might have otherwise had.

"Is everyone alright?" she asked, her voice surprisingly steady. The agent
looked over at her and shook his head.

"I don't know, ma'am."

Margaret had gotten over her panic and was now looking around as well.

"W-Where's Leo?" she stammered, sounding worried. Donna tried to spot the
chief of staff's tan suit in the brief flashes the milling agents' offered, but
couldn't see him.

"Maybe they've already gotten him in a limo," Donna suggested hopefully.
Margaret nodded, clearly desperate for something positive to cling to.

"Right, right, they'd've put him in really quick."

"Right."

"I'm gonna need both of you to come with me," the agent said suddenly,
standing. He took Donna's arm, and they were joined by another agent who took
Margaret's arm.

"Where are we going?" Donna asked, trying to spot Josh over the confusion.
She still couldn't see him.

He's already in a limo, that's it.

"Back to the White House, ma'am," the agent said brusquely. Donna and
Margaret were hastily escorted to a limo and all but shoved in. As soon as the
door shut they saw CJ, Sam, and Leo. Margaret cried out upon seeing Leo and gave
him a rib-breaking hug, which Leo extracted himself from after a few moments.
Despite mild embarrassment over Margaret's display of affection, he seemed
immensely relieved to find her unharmed.

Donna looked around.

"Where's Josh?" she asked, her panic rising. She noticed a second later
that Toby was also missing. "And Toby?"

Sam swallowed. "Josh and Toby are on their way to St. Mary's, and we're on
our way to the White House." As if on queue, the limo suddenly lurched forward,
and everyone except Donna scrambled for a seatbelt.

Donna was bereft of speech momentarily. "S-St...Mary's?" she stammered at
last. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes and her throat tightening.

"W-what--what happened--"

"We don't know," CJ said softly. "Just that, they've been shot. They won't
say anything else."

Donna choked and covered her mouth with her hand, her thoughts scattered
like dry leaves on a stiff autumn wind. Margaret put an arm around Donna's
shoulders, and she shut her eyes, crying as quietly as she could manage.
Oh, oh God. Not Josh. Please. "C-can't we--can't we go to the
hospital?" she asked, her voice breaking. The secret service agent shook his
head.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we couldn't possibly--" He suddenly stopped
speaking his eyes went unfocused as he listened to his earpiece. He blinked in
surprise, then leaned over to the driver, murmuring something. The driver
nodded.

"What?" Leo asked.

"We're going to St. Mary's, Mr. McGerry."

Donna felt slightly re-assured, and glanced over at Margaret, who squeezed
her hand comfortingly. She couldn't bring herself to be calm, though. Not with
Josh in an ambulance.

Donna shut her eyes for a moment, and wished fervently that she knew a
prayer.

President Bartlet liked to think he was a strong man, but as the secret
service agents efficiently crammed him into a bulletproof limousine while his
senior staff were being fired upon, the fear nearly choked him.

Zoe! Christ where's my daughter?!

That was his first thought, for Zoe. It was an immense relief to him that
the service actually got her and Charlie into the limo as soon as the shots
stopped, and only then did the car beat a hasty retreat to the White House, at
top speed. At least, that's where the driver and the two agents had intended to
go.

Bartlet held his shaking daughter and met Charlie's wide-eyed gaze and
steadily as he could. After a few seconds of quiet, his mind seemed to get back
on track.

God, my staff.

"Where are we going?" Bartlet demanded. The driver glanced back at him.

"Home, sir."

"What about my staff?"

One of the agents held up his hand and was listening intently to his
earpiece. His face changed, and Bartlet felt a small iceberg settle in his gut.

"What is it?" he asked stonily. The agent almost squirmed.

"Two of the staff have been injured, sir. They have ambulances on the
way."

"Who?" Charlie asked, looking panicked. The agent glanced at
him, then Bartlet.

"Mr. Lyman and Mr. Ziegler."

Zoe squeezed her eyes shut tight and felt tears slide down her cheeks.
Charlie blanched and sat back, looking sick. Bartlet remained cold.

"Take us to wherever they're going."

"Sir--"

"I don't care if you have to have every secret service agent in this
country there to protect me, I'm going to be at that hospital with my deputy
chief of staff and my communications director when they arrive, is that
understood? And I want the rest of the staff sent there too."

The agent nodded slowly, and said something into his mic. He indicated a
turn to the driver, who deftly altered the limo's course. He was grimacing while
he did it, though.

Hang in there, you guys, Bartlet thought to himself grimly. Hang
in there.

Toby couldn't honestly say that he felt the pain before he heard the
gunshots, but it certainly seemed that way in his memories. The initial moments
after the shooting were very muddied, though, so he didn't put too much stock in
their validity. The first clear things he could remember were the chainlink
fence he was bounced off by the secret service agent that tackled him, and the
incredible pain in his arm.

He didn't have the thought to speak or react, he simply lay there, his
racing heart sounding almost as loud as the gunshots raining down from somewhere
above them. He shut his eyes and shivered, the throbbing in his arm taking a
back seat to the fear that a fatal bullet was moments away.

The gunshots ceased as suddenly as they'd begun, and the secret service
agents could be heard shouting to one another, but only barely. The screams and
shouts of the panicked crowd drowned out almost all other sounds.
The agent covering Toby levered himself up slightly, murmuring, "Stay
down, sir," to him softly. Toby nodded, and the movement sent a fiery pain
shooting through his right arm. He looked over at the blood soaking into his
suit, and his first thought was, Oh, that's never coming out.

It was the inappropriateness of the thought that made Toby want to both
laugh and cry. What the hell was happening? He'd just been shot. SHOT. Granted
he was a member of the senior staff and a high profile person but really now--

Oh, God.

Toby immediately began looking around. The President. Zoe and Charlie,
God, what if that's who they were after. Sam. Leo. CJ?

Josh.

Toby looked to his right, and for a moment, he couldn't even think. There
was blood pooling beneath the secret service agent who'd pinned Josh down. But
the agent didn't appear to be injured.

"Josh?"

There was no response, although Toby'd not spoken nearly loud enough to be
heard over the din of the scattering spectators and the shouting agents. His
agent slowly stood and was immediately joined by two others who blocked Toby
from anything that might come his direction, be it bullets or people.
Unfortunately they were also blocking his view of any other staff members.

"What happened? Is everyone else alright?" Toby asked, trying to stand. He
was struck by how shaky his own voice sounded. His rise was immediately halted
by one of the agents, the one who'd covered him.

"Please stay down, sir."

Toby looked to his right and was given a very brief view of Josh. For a
moment Josh's head turned to look at Toby, at least he thought Josh was looking
at him, then an agent blocked Toby's view again.

Blood. There had been blood coming from the corners of his mouth.
Oh my God, Josh. This, this isn't--

"Please tell me someone's called an ambulance," Toby said softly. His arm
was already forgotten. Although he had no view of Josh, who was now surrounded
by a veritable armada of agents, he was sure that he was going to be needing the
ride to the hospital a lot more urgently than Toby was.

Before an agent could answer him the long wail of a siren was heard. It
was actually a fire engine responding first, although close on its heels were
two ambulances, several more fire engines, and almost every cop within a five
mile radius.

Listening to the keening sounds of the emergency vehicles, Toby suddenly
realized how cold and sick he felt. The hairs stood on the back of his neck, and
a violent shiver had him wondering when it had suddenly gotten so cold. The
ground seemed to tip and overtake his limited view of the sky above.
Toby never felt his head hit the concrete.

Josh's memories weren't quite like Toby's. He definitely remembered
hearing at least one gunshot. That had been the one that got Toby in the arm.

Then next two had gotten him.

Being shot in the chest hadn't felt anything like he'd expected, not that
he'd ever actually sat down and thought about it in detail. It had been like two
terribly swift and merciless punches to the chest, followed immediately by a
pain that refused to let him breathe. He'd been pinned down by the agent then,
making his breathing even more difficult. He couldn't speak, and only one
thought repeated in his mind over and over.

What the hell just happened?

Josh had taken a deep breath, or tried to, but the pain on the left side
of his chest had been intolerable. He'd also felt something like liquid in his
lungs, and everything had suddenly seemed far too dark. It might've been the
secret service agent holding him down.

Everything that came after that was confused. He thought he heard Toby say
his name, and he might have even turned to look over at him, but he couldn't
really remember. A small forest of legs in black pants and dress boots had
suddenly sprung up around him. The word 'ambulance' was being used a lot, and
people were screaming. Or maybe that was a siren, or several sirens. It was
impossible to tell.

What's going on?

Someone, a few someones, were saying his name. No, maybe it was just a
single person. But they weren't saying Josh, they were saying Mr. Lyman, and in
his now drifting mindset it occurred to him that it couldn't be anyone else in
the senior staff because they never would've called him Mr. Lyman...
Have I been shot? Those were gunshots I heard. Where are the others?

Are they okay?

His breathing felt short and shallow, and every gasp was agony. He could
taste and feel blood in his mouth. He couldn't hardly see anymore. There were
flashing lights, and dark clothes. All the sounds were swimming together, and
then they seemed to be one sound, and one vision of complete and total
confusion.

I have been shot, haven't I. God and it hurts like hell, too...wait,

Toby was right next to me...where's Toby?...

And then there was nothing at all.