Legacy - 37. Section Four - Kurt DeWitt

I awoke with a start to an incessant beeping sound that at first I couldn’t place. As the fog of sleep lifted from my brain, it dawned on me that the beeping sound was that of the alarm clock on my phone. I was in our quarters in the Underground White House and had just lain down, seemingly moments before, to take a brief nap before starting another day in crisis. Actually, I’d finally gotten to bed at 1:45, so I’d slept scarcely more than three hours. Even that was more than I should have allowed myself but the multiple sleepless nights over the past week were taking their toll on me and not even the numerous cups of coffee were helping anymore. Had I not taken a few hours for sleep, I would have been utterly useless to the President - something he could not afford right now.

Reaching over to touch my husband, I discovered that the other side of the bed was empty. Trevor had said he would be right there when I left him early this morning. Obviously he’d never made it to bed but, then, he had a major new mystery to solve. We’d gotten a coded message from the Middle East that could have only originated from Paul Manning or someone who knew him intimately. Given that the Israelis had reported he’d been killed while attempting to assassinate the Palestinian Prime Minister, something obviously wasn’t right. My husband was the perfect person to solve the mystery of what really happened to Paul. Right now I needed to deal with the kidnapping of the Secretary of State, although I had a nagging suspicion that the two incidents were connected.

Regardless, President Schroeder would be addressing the nation at a press conference in five hours. It was my job to work with Lance Cohen, the Press Secretary, in arranging that press conference and making sure it ran smoothly. Such was the life of the President’s Chief of Staff.

Dragging myself out of bed, I made a quick detour to check on our children, who were all fast asleep. I felt guilty that Trevor and I had hardly had any time to spend with them over the course of the past week but, then, these were extraordinary times. At least all their friends were here too, so I could take consolation in the fact that they weren’t alone.

After taking a quick shower, I got dressed in my usual business attire and made my way to the main cafeteria, where I grabbed a quick breakfast and some desperately needed coffee. There was a surprising number of staffers getting their breakfast at that ungodly hour however; we were all used to starting our days long before the President awakened.

As I was finishing my coffee, Trevor walked into the cafeteria, spotted me, strode up and sat down next to me. Speaking quietly, he said, “We need to talk . . . the sooner, the better.”

“You need to get some sleep,” I countered.

“No time for that,” Trevor responded, “but I promise to take a nap as soon as I can.”

“At least get some breakfast,” I suggested.

Rather than say anything, Trevor got up and headed to the serving line, where he grabbed a surprisingly large breakfast for so early in the morning. When he got back with two plates of scrambled eggs, bacon and hash browns, he shoved one toward me and said, “You need to eat more than a bagel and coffee, Kurt. God knows if there’ll be time for lunch.”

Realizing my husband was right, I gratefully grabbed the plate and ate as Trevor downed his own, substantial breakfast.

After we finished, Trevor led me through a series of twists and turns in the corridors of the Underground White House, to what I soon recognized as the quarters of Jeremy Kimball and his children. It took a few minutes of ringing the bell, and then it was young Josh who opened the door for us to reveal the sight of his father, sitting with his head resting on the kitchen table, fast asleep.

With obvious concern in his voice, Josh said, “When Dad didn’t answer the doorbell, I got up and found him like this.”

“The lack of sleep’s taking a toll on us all, Josh,” I said and he simply nodded his head.

At that moment, a bleary-eyed teenager with long black hair emerged and asked, “What’s going on, Joshy?” I quickly recognized him from his resemblance to Zach Taylor as his and Kevin Williams’ son. Realizing they were not alone, the boy blushed furiously. Josh was dressed in nothing but a skimpy pair of bikini briefs but the dark-haired boy, who made a hasty retreat, was entirely in the nude.

With a lopsided grin on his face that reminded me so much of David Reynolds’ smile, Josh explained, “It’s Alan’s first time sleeping over. Meeting him has been the one silver lining . . . since Pop died,” he added as his eyes filled with tears. Trevor didn’t hesitate to take young Josh into his arms and console him in his grief. As far as we were concerned, Josh was one of our own. So Josh had a boyfriend!

A moment later, young Alan Taylor-Williams emerged wearing just a skin-tight wife beater - no, they were called tank tops again - and a skimpy pair of shorts. “God, I’m sooo embarrassed,” the boy said as he approached.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” I replied. “In fact, from what I saw, you have a lot to be proud of.” Perhaps I was teasing the boy a bit too much with that comment as evidenced by his turning beet red, but it was probably the best way to break the ice. Ignoring it would have only made things worse and, besides, he was indeed well endowed and one of the handsomest teenage boys I’d ever seen. The resemblance to Zach was uncanny.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Josh threw in, which only made his boyfriend color up even more, but then Josh pulled Alan into a one-armed hug that lit up both boys’ faces.

“Uncle Kurt, Uncle Trevor,” Josh went on, I’d like you to meet . . .”

“Alan Taylor-Williams,” Trevor answered, and then continued, “Alan, you look so much like your father did at your age, I’d almost think you were him.”

“And we all know his dad’s the ‘sexiest man in America’,” Josh added, causing poor Alan to color up yet again, “and he’s all mine.”

“Did the two of you even know each other before this week?” I asked.

“We’d never met,” Alan confirmed. “I mean, it’s not like we even go to the same school or anything. I live up in Bethesda with my dads and go to Walt Whitman High School, and Joshy goes to Sidwell Friends. I’ve also been pretty good at avoiding the political party scene . . . I’m not really into that sort of thing.”

Laughing, I responded, “So for your boyfriend, you chose a kid who’s probably one of the most visible in the world?”

“Well, there is that,” Alan agreed with a laugh. “Actually, I’m kinda shy and I think being with Joshy will be good for me. I love him with all my heart and if being with him means having to be more sociable . . . well, I can certainly think of worse things.”

“You’ve known each other less than a week and you’re already in love?” Trevor questioned, which I knew would only serve to bring up our own experience.

Sure enough, Josh responded with, “What about you guys, Uncle Trevor and Uncle Kurt? I seem to recall that with you, it was love at first sight, only you Uncle Trevor, thought Uncle Kurt was too young for you.”

Coloring up just a bit, Trevor admitted, “You’re absolutely right, Josh. I did fall in love with Kurt on sight, and he’d been crushing on me for some time already. I was just too stupid to go with my instincts. I thought he was too young and it took me six months to realize that age didn’t matter. He was a mature fourteen-year-old and I was an immature sixteen-year-old, so we were a perfect match.” Trevor’s comment got a chuckle out of both boys.

“Seriously,” I added, “I’m a firm believer in love at first sight, but relationships take work. By the time you reach your teens, you’re pretty well set in your ways but lack the maturity to deal with individual differences. Hell, it’s tough enough when you’re an adult. All I’m saying is that if you want your relationship to succeed, it will, but there’s a good possibility it may not in spite of your best efforts. Trevor and I, like both your dads, were extremely lucky. It doesn’t always work that way.”

Just as Josh was about to say something, Jeremy’s head popped up, he looked around, seemingly disoriented, and groaned. When his eyes spotted Trevor and me, he said, “Man, I can’t believe I fell asleep like that.”

“We’re all running pretty close to empty,” I suggested. “Be glad you got a little rest . . . I suspect you’re going to need it.”

“You don’t know the half of it, Kurt,” Jeremy responded and then, seeing Josh and Alan behind us, asked, “What are you guys doing up at such an ungodly hour?”

“Believe me, we wouldn’t be except that someone didn’t answer the doorbell,” Josh replied.

“Oh Gees, I’m really sorry about that,” Jeremy responded, and then went on to say, “Guys, we’re going to be discussing some stuff that’s really politically sensitive.”

“Don’t worry Dad. Alan and I intend to go directly back to sleep,” Josh replied as his boyfriend nodded his head in agreement.

“Well if you do hear anything, just be warned that it cannot leave this apartment,” Jeremy reiterated.

“If we stay up, it won’t be to listen to what you guys are saying,” Josh replied and then added, “Goodnight.” Reaching for Alan’s hand, Josh then led his boyfriend back to his bedroom.

“They make a handsome couple,” I commented.

“They’re really in love with each other,” Jeremy commented. “I mean really in love with each other, and I don’t mean infatuation or puppy love. The way they look at each other reminds me so much of the way David used to look at me . . .” Jeremy had to stop to wipe the tears out of his eyes before he continued, “I really think it could last. Of course they’re young and any number of things could happen, but the chemistry is certainly there.”

“Just imagine what their kids could look like,” Trevor chimed in. “I mean, Josh has inherited the good looks of both his dads,” which made Jeremy blush, “and Alan is one of the best looking boys I’ve ever seen . . . perhaps even more so than when Zach was his age.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m not one of the best looking guys you’ve ever seen?” I joked with my husband.

“Of course you are, Honey, but you have to admit that we’re not even close to being in the same league as Jeremy and David, or Zach and Kevin.”

“Well to me you are,” I replied, which got me an immediate kiss and a smile.

“I hate to break up the love fest,” Jeremy interrupted, “but Trevor, I think we’d better bring Kurt up to speed.”

Getting a much more serious look on his face, my husband turned to face me. I'd always thought Trevor looked more like a boy than a man, even as he aged - not that he wasn’t mature or anything - but he always had looked youthful. Today for the first time he looked every bit of his fifty years.

It was Jeremy, however, that spoke next. “Kurt, before we get started, I need to tell you that what we’re about to discuss would be considered treason by many. If you’d prefer, we could leave it at that and you’d have plausible deniability. You could walk away right now without compromising what needs to be done.”

“As Ben Franklin once said,” I replied, “‘We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately.’ I’m not about to abandon those who mean the world to me in the name of saving my own skin. Whatever it is, I need to hear it.”

Rather than say anything, Jeremy simply nodded his head at my husband and Trevor began to speak. “First of all,” he began, “there is little doubt now that Paul Manning is alive. He and Altaf are being held at an undisclosed location in southern Turkey. We don’t have a precise fix on their location, but we’ve narrowed it down to somewhere in Antakya.”

“The ancient city of Antiochus,” I noted.

“Precisely,” my husband replied with a brief smile. “The location is irrelevant, although we are trying to hone in on it in case we need to mount a rescue operation. What matters is that they’re being held along with the Palestinian Prime Minister for their own safekeeping of which there is little doubt, otherwise all three would be dead by now.

“The death of David Reynolds was part of a broad plot to disrupt the Mideast peace agreement, as were the deaths of the Secretary of State and the Israeli Prime Minister. The acting Israeli Prime Minister is himself heavily involved in the plot and, hence, our Israeli allies cannot be trusted.”

“Jesus!” I exclaimed. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “How did you come by this information?” I asked.

“It’s a bit complicated,” Trevor explained. “As you already know, last night we received a message that could only have originated from Paul Manning or someone very close to him. Tracking the message was particularly difficult as it was encrypted using one of our most secure codes. Only a handful of our operatives should have had access to it. The message was sent over the Internet via the Palestinian embassy in Ankara after all identifying information had been stripped from it.

“Early this morning, we received two more messages via the same route, both of them with additional details that could have only come from Paul. The two messages together spelled out the information I just gave you, and a lot more that will keep us busy for some time to come.”

“Trevor, are you sure of the validity of the information?” I knew Trevor would have never told Jeremy or me if he wasn’t, but I had to confirm it with him in any case.

“Absolutely,” he replied, “as I’m sure you already knew,” he added with a smirk. Trevor knows me so well. “Anyway, to make a long story short,” he continued, “there are a number of individuals, corporations and even governments that have a vested interest in seeing that a state of war in the Middle East continue indefinitely. Some of them, perhaps correctly, ascertained that David possessed the wherewithal to restore peace, even under the worst of circumstances; hence he had to be eliminated.”

“David’s idealism was such a rare and beautiful thing,” Jeremy interrupted. “He could have done such great things, but idealists rarely survive unscathed. If it takes my last dying breath, I’m going to ensure that David’s ideals live on. We will restore Middle East peace and ensure that no one ever stands in its way again.”

“Which brings up the rest of our discussion,” Trevor resumed. “The Israeli government isn’t the only one that has been compromised. Indeed, some of Schroeder’s closest associates are involved, possibly the President himself.”

“FUCK!” came my only reply . . .

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

The President convened his cabinet at 0730 and we were going over last-minute preparations for his 10 AM news conference, when Trevor suddenly entered the conference room and strode directly up to Jeremy. To say that Schroeder was annoyed by the interruption would be an understatement. Little did he know that things were about to get ugly.

The plan that Trevor and Jeremy hatched while I was asleep was one of the ballsiest - and riskiest - political moves in the history of the United States. The thing was, although we couldn’t afford to have Schroeder remain in a position of power, simply removing him from office and installing Jeremy in his place would tip off the very people involved in plotting David’s assassination that we were on to them. Not only that, but it could put Jeremy at risk of assassination as well - a risk I didn’t even want to contemplate.

Reluctantly, we all agreed that the only way to keep the perpetrators in the dark was to leave Schroeder in place as President. That meant backing Schroeder into a corner and politically eviscerating him, but Schroeder was unpredictable. How might he react to a direct threat on his power? Could we trust him to keep his word? These were questions that might not be answered until it was too late. The one thing that was certain was that if we failed, we would quite literally hang together.

Let the show begin!

“Mr. Vice-President,” Schroeder complained as the disturbance persisted, “we have very important business to discuss and a press conference that begins in just over two hours from now. If you and Austin have something important to discuss, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the room.”

“Mr. President,” Jeremy responded, “The information Dr. Austin has presented to me is vital and demands my immediate attention. In fact, if you will indulge me for a few minutes more, this is something of vital importance to everyone in this room.”

“Any other time I would allow it,” Schroeder countered, “but we have more important matters at hand to discuss. Whatever it is, I’m sure it can wait until after the press conference.”

“This information could affect the press conference,” Jeremy responded. “In fact, it might be wise to postpone it by an hour or more so that this new information can be taken into account.”

“Why the fuck did Austin go to you, Kimball, rather than coming to me in the first place?” the President asked.

“Because you have made it quite clear that I am not allowed to interact directly with you, Mr. President,” Trevor explained, “and what I have to discuss requires decision making at a higher pay grade than that of the Director of the CIA, with no offense to the Director.”

“None taken,” Gary Clark answered.

“But what could Kimball hope to offer that I couldn’t have resolved once you discussed it with Clark?” Schroeder countered.

“You forget that Jeremy Kimball is far more than the Vice-President of the United States to me,” Trevor answered. “Jeremy Kimball is a lifelong friend. I value and trust his judgment more than that of anyone else, save that of my own husband.”

“In which case you can discuss it outside and return when you are prepared to discuss it with the rest of the group,” the President admonished.

Nodding at Trevor, Jeremy then proceeded to say, “Very well, Mr. President. I think I’ve seen enough to act on the twenty-fifth Amendment.” The gasps that followed were certainly not unexpected. “Under the provisions of the twenty-fifth amendment, I am going to present Dr. Austin’s findings to the group and then call for a vote on your removal from office.”

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS, FAGGOT!” Schroeder screamed at the top of his lungs.

“On the contrary,” Jeremy countered calmly, “I have an obligation to do this, Mr. President.”

“I’ll have your head, Kimball!” the President yelled.

“Mr. President,” Jeremy replied, “if I fail to convince the cabinet to remove you from office, I can assure you I will resign. Believe me, I take this action with extreme reluctance.

“Now if you’ll please step aside, I would like to have Dr. Austin present his findings to the group for their consideration, after which you will have an opportunity to respond before the cabinet votes on my motion to remove you from office under the provisions of the twenty-fifth.”

“This whole thing is preposterous!” Schroeder countered. He certainly was consistent.

Turning to face Schroeder, I prepared myself mentally to play my part. “Mr. President,” I began, “the Vice-President has made a motion to remove you from office. The motion does not need a second and you don’t have veto authority. It is incumbent on you to step aside and allow the Vice-President to proceed. Under the circumstances, I suggest we delay the news conference until one o’clock.”

It was anyone’s guess at this point whether or not the President would comply but, fortunately, he regained his composure and, with a stricken look on his face, nodded at me, then stepped aside and sat down.

As Trevor stepped up to the podium, I went up to the Press Secretary and instructed Lance to delay the press conference until after noon. He in turn picked up his phone, undoubtedly to call his deputy to set the change in motion.

From the moment Trevor began his presentation, it was evident that he’d made good use of the limited time he’d had in the wee hours of the morning. His presentation was very professional and polished, and included maps, flowcharts and intricate diagrams showing the precise interrelationships among the various participants in David’s murder. It took him nearly two hours to present his findings and, although largely circumstantial, together they presented a compelling case that the plot to disrupt Mideast peace was orchestrated by roughly twenty corporate and world leaders. Not all the identities were known at this point but they included the acting Israeli Prime Minister and three of President Schroeder’s closest friends and associates, including the chair of his last reelection campaign.

“The information I have presented,” Trevor continued as he brought his presentation to its conclusion, “is assuredly just the tip of the iceberg. In the coming days, weeks and months I expect to put together sufficient evidence to convict those responsible for the assassinations and terrorism of the past week and, where appropriate, for high treason. For those outside the jurisdiction of the United States, it will be up to the administration to draft an appropriate response.

“Mr. President, I don’t have enough information to tie you directly to the assassination of David Reynolds . . . at least not yet . . . but your close, long-term association with some of those at the center of the plot in my opinion undermines your credibility beyond repair. I am not myself in a position to make such decisions but, after presenting the final evidence I am about to present, I believe you should seriously consider tendering your resignation . . .”

“No way in fucking hell, faggot,” the President shouted out.

“I mean you no disrespect, Mr. President,” Trevor countered, “but I think you may wish to withhold making a decision until you see the remaining evidence. Although circumstantial, there would seem to be little doubt that you have allowed your closest associates to influence your voting record.”

What followed was truly shocking. Trevor outlined five instances during the past three years in which the President met with a close associate and then spoke out against the Mideast peace process on the floor of The House within twenty-four hours, often on the same day. The icing on the cake, however, was the recent attempt to appoint a convicted terrorist to be Trevor’s successor based on the recommendation of one of those responsible for David’s assassination.

“So you see Mr. President,” Trevor stated in conclusion, ”you have been influenced by those with treasonous intentions. Had you succeeded in getting Sinclair appointed as my successor, your National Security Advisor would have been a man with direct ties to those responsible for the events of the past week. I shudder at the thought of what might have been.

“Like it or not, you have been compromised. Even if given the benefit of the doubt, at best you would be seen as an ignorant fool, easily influenced by those who would harm the United States. You are not capable of governing under those circumstances. I strongly urge you to consider resigning before the Cabinet has a chance to vote on your removal from office.”

“When Hell freezes over,” the President responded as he stood up and practically shoved my husband away from the podium. “Now if you’re finished presenting your so-called evidence, allow me to point out the real traitors here.

“Yes, treason has indeed been committed, but not by the fine upstanding men I have known nearly my whole life. No, I’m quite certain that, once the evidence has been scrutinized, it will be shown to be nothing more than lies, distortions and outright fabrications . . .”

“But Mr. President,” Gary Clark, the CIA Director countered, “The messages received from the Middle East used one of our most secure codes.”

“And authenticated based on the description of a necktie,” the President scoffed.

“With all due respect, Mr. President,” I countered, “as the one who held that tie in his own hands, I can personally vouch for the authenticity of that message. And the other two messages contained personal information that was equally specific to Lieutenant Paul Manning.”

“Of course you faggots can be expected to stand together and support your retard friend,” the President challenged.

“Mr. President, I may be many things,” I responded to his insult. I was fed up and seethed with anger, but managed to keep my voice calm and steady. “I'm the youngest person ever to have obtained a Doctorate in Divinity from Boston University. I’m also the youngest Dean in the history of the National Cathedral. I’m your chief of staff and, yes, I certainly happen to be gay. I am not, however, a faggot. I will not stand by and let you demean the office of the President of the United States by calling me that and, more importantly, I will not let you demean me and the office I hold.

“Furthermore,” I continued, “Most of my friends are straight, among them Paul Manning. Paul is no retard. He never was a ‘retard’. Although born with Down’s Syndrome, he managed to graduate from the same high school as David Reynolds with a 3.0 GPA. Since completing treatment for his Down’s Syndrome, he has become one of the most successful detectives in the history of the Baltimore City Police Department. There is absolutely no reason to question the integrity of the data obtained and sent by him.”

“You cannot trust information from someone in captivity,” Schroeder countered. “The identifying data could have easily been coerced from him. I’m sure your husband would agree with me on this.”

“Mr. President,” Trevor responded, “although information provided by people in captivity is always somewhat suspect, our counterintelligence is much more sophisticated than that. If information is obtained under duress, we can generally detect it. There is absolutely no evidence that Paul Manning sent those messages under duress, nor that the information was extracted from him and sent by someone else. Paul isn’t some amateur sleuth either . . . he’s a seasoned professional with two decades of experience as a police detective in one of the nation’s most notorious homicide units, much of that as its director.

“But consider this . . . at the very least the messages are proof that Paul Manning is alive. At the very least, the Israelis are lying to us. That alone should tell us we cannot trust the information coming to us through the usual, diplomatic channels.

“Finally, Mr. President,” Trevor added, “I must point out once again as I did at multiple times that the data in my presentation was independently verified. In the coming days we will be verifying even more of what we have, but the information I presented here today is solid.”

Actually, this was a bluff. There was only so much that could be done in a short time, even for the eminent Dr. Trevor Austin. Full verification would come, but it would take days, by which time we hoped to have enough solid evidence to go after those responsible - and to impeach President Schroeder.

Turning away from my husband and facing the rest of the Cabinet, the President asked, “Who are you all gonna believe . . . these faggots or the President of the United States?”

“You really want us to answer that?” Randy Bernstein answered. Randy was another one of those ‘faggots’ whose integrity the President was questioning.

“Mr. President,” the Secretary of Defense asked, “could you please answer a question for me? In light of the information presented today, what are your intentions with respect to your nomination for National Security Adviser?”

“I’m standing by my choice,” Schroeder answered to the sound of multiple gasps throughout the room. “I have every confidence that I have chosen the best man for the job.”

“Even though he’s a convicted terrorist?” the Secretary asked.

“That was in the past,” the President responded, “and he more than made up for it by helping to put his fellow terrorists behind bars, and with his exemplary record of accomplishment ever since.”

“What about his association with Nehru?” Gary Clark asked, “Particularly with the evidence Austin presented pointing to a role for Nehru in the Reynolds assassination?”

“That,” the President replied, “is pure conjecture.”

After more than a full minute of silence, Jeremy asked the members of the Cabinet, “Are there any other questions for the President or for Dr. Austin?”

“I’ve heard more than enough,” the Secretary of Defense responded.

After nearly another minute of complete silence, I stated flatly, “We will now conduct a roll call vote on Mr. Kimball’s motion to remove President Schroeder from office. Just to be clear, this is the first time Section Four of the Twenty-Fifth Amendment has ever been applied. I will now read the contents of the section in question . . .”

After completing a full reading of the brief, two-paragraph section of the twenty-fifth amendment, I went on to summarize what would happen. “As you can see, Section Four provides a mechanism for temporary ascension of the Vice-President to the role of Acting President in the event that the President is incapacitated and is unable to provide notice of incapacity on his own. It does not define what constitutes incapacity; however there is little doubt that it provides a mechanism for temporary removal from office of a president who is not discharging his duties as president in an appropriate manner, for whatever reason.

“I think most present would agree that President Schroeder has acted erratically since taking office, but that is understandable under the circumstances. What is at question today is not whether his behavior has been presidential but rather whether or not his associations have compromised his ability to lead. Whether or not he is guilty of ‘high crimes and misdemeanors’ is a question that will ultimately need to be taken up by the House in an article to impeach, if appropriate, and then by the full Senate.

“The Constitution states that it is the Vice-President who must initiate a motion under Section Four, as he has done, and the decision must be made by a majority of the principal officers of the executive departments. Thus a vote of the full Cabinet is required and, unless there is an objection, it will be by a roll call vote. If the Cabinet votes to declare the President unfit for office, the actual ascension of the Vice-President cannot take place without notification of the President Pro Tempora of the Senate and the Speaker of the House. At that point the President has four days to notify the same that he is resuming his role as chief executive; however if the Vice-President and Cabinet still object, the matter must be decided by Congress, assembling within 48 hours if in session, or 21 days if not,” I concluded.

“As it is the Vice-President’s motion to invoke Section Four of the Twenty-Fifth Amendment, it is appropriate for the Vice-President to conduct the roll call,” I stated as Jeremy moved to take the podium. This was in sharp contrast to the usual arrangement of the Vice-President opposite the President and the rest of the Cabinet seated around an oval table in the Cabinet Room of the White House, but this was an extraordinary time.

“Thank you for clarifying procedures, Dr. DeWitt,” Jeremy stated as he took charge. “We will now proceed in order of rank. I will ask each of you to state whether you support or oppose the motion to temporarily remove President Schroeder from office. If you wish, you may add a brief statement, as I’m sure this will be one for the history books . . .”