During his orientation, Gabe had been told that "The Football" was the name given to the communications case containing the codes and other necessary equipment for the quarterback, the president, to trigger a retaliatory or preemptive nuclear strike anywhere in the world—quite possibly the prelude to Armageddon. Whenever the chief executive was traveling away from the White House, the case was brought along by a military aide rotating from one of the five services. Also contained in The Football, Lattimore had told Gabe, were the papers of presidential succession.

Now the chief of staff turned to him, his intensity threatening to burn a hole between Gabe's eyes.

"Go on in, Doctor," he said.

He followed Gabe into the bedroom, stepped inside, and quietly closed the door behind them.

Legs out straight, the President of the United States sat bolt upright, his back pressed against the massive brass headboard. His eyes were wide and feral, his gaze darting—an expression of absolute fear. His fingers were in constant motion, like waving fronds of kelp. The corners of his mouth pulled back repetitively, then relaxed. To his left, standing close by the bed, was the First Lady, stunning in a simple black strapless gown. Her expression was an odd mixture of concern and embarrassment.

"He's been like this for twenty minutes now," she said, eschewing any greeting.

"I know about his asthma and his migraines," Gabe said. "Are the meds he takes up here?"

"Yes. Plus some Tylenol sometimes and ibuprofen for some back pain."

"See if you can find those bottles, Carol. Bring me any pills you come across. Anything at all. Also the inhaler he uses."

The First Lady hurried into the bathroom.

Suddenly Stoddard began rocking forward and back like an Orthodox Jew reciting his prayers. After a minute or two, he seemed to notice Gabe for the first time.

"Gabe, Gabe, my old friend, what in the Sam Hill are you doing here?" he asked, still rocking. His voice was strained and higher pitched than usual, his speech pressured. "You've got work to do, work to do, my man, my man. People to meet and greet and work to do."

"Mr. President, I'm here because you suddenly aren't acting like yourself."