Then he went into his private office and closed the door. His blood was still pumping rapidly, and a thousand thoughts went through his mind. He knew this would likely be the last time he would be there as a privileged insider in the White House. He had been accepted here and treated with deference.

But now, as suddenly as it had all begun, it was over. He had this one last moment to savor his rise to power, before he would have to think about his precipitous fall. But at the same time, the disaster on the West Coast was on everyone’s mind, and he wanted to catch up on what was happening. So he flipped on the television set in his office and watched. What he saw shook him to the very core of his being.

Later, Vince called his wife, Angie, and broke the bad news about losing his job. She was equally disturbed, but they agreed to talk later about what they would do next. After he hung up, he breathed a simple prayer for the victims and their families. Then, on his own behalf, he added, “God, this is all too much for me. It’s so big, and so sudden, nobody knows what to make of all this. I’ve been a very lucky and privileged man, and I know I’m living during one of the most dramatic times in history. Everything I ever thought was important is suddenly collapsing all around me.”

With tears welling up in his eyes, he muttered, “God, if You have a purpose for me in all this, I’m ready to do whatever You say. Just show me the way. . . .”

ONLY MINUTES AFTER the chief of staff departed the Cabinet Room, a slender man slipped out another door. He was the personal assistant to the president’s national security adviser. He had been receiving promises from the most powerful newspaper publisher in Washington of favorable treatment in exchange for leaks of certain confidential White House information. Other high-ranking officials had received threats from the same paper of severe political retribution if they didn’t provide information. It was one of Washington’s dirtiest little secrets; but, despite what some critics would call criminal extortion, the Post was so powerful that it routinely operated above the law.

On any other occasion, the story of a new president appearing drunk and disoriented at his first cabinet briefing would have rated a front-page banner headline. But news of the tragedy in California so dominated the news that this particular story of the presidential mishap was buried on page A-3. Without the customary media attention, it lay there like a land mine waiting to explode from the computer of any news hawk or political enemy doing a little background check on President Ted Rust.

OF ALL THE PRESIDENT’S CABINET, Albert Carlton Augustus was the most qualified. He first became nationally famous when he put together a $10 billion merger between the missile guidance company he headed and the acknowledged giant of the defense industry, Consolidated Aviation. His stock options in the deal had netted him a cool $100 million after taxes. He had been looking forward to some serious tarpon fishing off Bimini in his new forty-five-foot Bertram yacht when the call came from the then president-elect, offering him the post at the Defense Department.