“Samantha and I are devastated by these events and our hearts broken for the families reeling from this horrific tragedy. In the coming days, we’ll visit Fort Liberty to express our condolences in person. For now, we ask our fellow citizens for their prayers on behalf of the brave servicemen and servicewomen who lost their lives or suffered grievous injuries. We also ask you to pray for their families.
“We’ll have more information in the coming days. In the meantime, we ask you to pray for the Fort Liberty community and for all our servicemen and servicewomen on duty around the world tonight. Good night and Godspeed to those we lost today and those fighting for their lives.”
“And we’re out.”
Nick removed the microphone and the powerpack that had been clipped to his belt and handed them to the technician. “Thanks, Josh.”
“No problem, Mr. President.”
Of course Nick knew his name, and judging by the young man’s smile, he appreciated the courtesy of being recognized by the most powerful man in the world.
“We’ve done what we can here,” Nick said, with his hand on Sam’s lower back. “Let’s get back to our place.”
“I’m with you, Mr. President.”
“Thank God for that.”
The phone rangseveral times during the night as the Fort Liberty death toll rose to six servicemembers. Four men and two women were dead. They ranged in age from nineteen to twenty-seven and had five children among them. One had been engaged to be married in three short weeks. Another had just returned to duty after a year away to battle cancer.
Each person had a unique story, a family who loved them and so much more to give.
Nick’s heart broke all over again every time the phone rang with an update.
“What are you thinking?” Sam asked after the third call.
“Maybe I should step aside if they hate me enough to kill people.”
“What would that solve? Gretchen would become president, and people would have the same beef with her as they do with you. And who knows what she’d be like as president? At least with you, we know what we’re getting.”
“We know that. Other people don’t. That’s the problem.”
“So let’s work on that. Let’s do more interviews so people have a chance to get to know us better, something more in-depth where we invite the reporter in to really get a feel for us and our family and what we’re about.”
His hand landed on her forehead.
“What’re you doing?”
“Checking to see if you have a fever.”
She whacked his hand away. “Stop. I’m serious.”
“So am I. Who are you, and what’ve you done with my first lady?”
“I’m your wife, the person who loves you more than anything or anyone, and I’m tired of this narrative that you’re an illegitimate president. You’re the only president they’ve got for the next three years, so let’s make sure they know exactly who you are and what you stand for. They can even follow me at work.”
“You’re terrifying me.”
Sam laughed. “I’m serious!”
“I know. That’s the part that’s terrifying—you welcoming a reporter to dissect our lives and follow you around at work is the last thing I would ever expect you to do.”
“I live to surprise you.”
“Well, you have.”
“We need someone big to talk to us,” Sam said. “Like Oprah.”
“Do you think she’d do it?”