His heart pounded faster. Harder.
He felt a strange, tingling sensation in his arm.
For Christ’s Sake, Adam, you’re a doctor. You took the Hippocratic Oath. Layton Rood is your patient. His life is in your hands. This is no ordinary patient. This is the President of the United States.
Adam lifted the receiver to his ear.
But Janet!
It’s imperative you call a neurologist!
Conflict. Hellish conflict. Torn.
Janet!
Neurologist!
Janet!
A semi ran over his chest. Then a sharp pain shot down his arm. Excruciating! The phone slipped from his hand. He crashed to the floor.
* * *
Anderson, Fairchild, and Haggerty sat impatiently in the Red Room of the White House waiting to see the President. The Vice President fidgeted in his chair, crossing and uncrossing his legs. He was cognizant of
