“What is this, Kincaid, some kind of power trip? Indulging your ego? The trial lawyer wanting to pull everything into his arena? I won’t stand for this!”

“With respect, sir.” Ben took a deep breath. “You don’t have any choice.”

Swinburne slapped the table again and walked away.

Cartwright spoke up. “If we’re going to have a trial… even a quick one… don’t we need some kind of procedure?”

“To the extent possible, we can follow the normal federal rules of civil procedure,” Ben explained. “We might have to make some adjustments, since as far as I know I’m the only lawyer in the room. But I think the vice president has made it clear he can argue his case forcefully. He can be the acting prosecutor, presenting the case for removal. With his permission, I’ll represent the president-in effect, the defendant.” He shrugged. “It’s kinda what I do. Normally, anyway.”

The president gave him a little salute. “I’m honored to have you in my corner.”

Ben was touched by his response, although also mindful that the president at this point didn’t have a wealth of choices.

“Why does he need a lawyer?” Swinburne barked. “Can’t he represent himself?”

“The right to a fair trial includes the right to counsel. Surely you’re familiar with Gideon v. Wainwright?”

Swinburne made a grunting sound. “I think I saw the made-for-TV movie.”

“Well, as you may recall, the happy ending came when Henry Fonda got a new trial, with a lawyer. Which totally changed the outcome.”

“That’s all well and good,” Admiral Cartwright said. “But if this is going to be a trial-a real trial-don’t we need a judge?”

“We do,” Ben said hastily. He could see already that with stakes this high-and tempers high as well-this would rapidly descend into chaos without some sort of restraint. “Perhaps Agent Zimmer can patch in the chief justice.”

“I think that’s a poor idea,” Zimmer said. “I can understand contacting the cabinet. It’s necessary, and they all have top-level security clearances. But that doesn’t extend to the judiciary. Let me just remind you all that these are extremely sensitive matters and we don’t want any leaks. Especially to the wrong people.”

Admiral Cartwright tossed down his pen. “Well, then, I guess this is where I have to make my ugly confession.”

Swinburne squinted. “What?”

Cartwright rose to his feet. “I guess none of you are aware of the fact but… well, Kincaid, you’re not the only lawyer in the room.”

Ben arched an eyebrow.

“I was a lawyer back in the day,” Cartwright said. “Spent years in the JAG Corps, till I moved onto bigger things. Never cared to look back, either. But I still remember the drill.”

“What are you saying?” Swinburne asked.

“I’m offering to be your judge,” Cartwright said succinctly.

Ben pondered a moment. Cartwright had the qualifications, and he was here. On the other hand, did Ben really want the judge to be the person in the room who hated him most?

“Well, Kincaid?” Swinburne said. “Don’t just stand there like a damn wax statue. Say something!”

Ben realized that Cartwright was now no longer the person in the room who hated him most.

“The defense will accept you as the judge for this constitutional proceeding,” Ben said.

“And so will I, if it moves this thing along any faster,” Swinburne said. “Have you people forgotten that we are facing a dire countdown?”

“I haven’t,” Ben said. “But before we can proceed… Mr. President?”

He seemed almost dazed, slow to respond. “Yes, Ben?”

“Does this proposed procedure meet with your approval?”

Swinburne slapped the table once again, right in front of Ben, making a thunderous noise. “I don’t approve of the procedure, but that didn’t matter to you. Why does he get to decide whether he approves of the procedure?”

Ben slammed the table equally hard, bringing his hand down nearly on top of Swinburne’s. He leaned forward and gave Swinburne a cold glare right in the eye. “Because, at least for the moment, he’s the president of the United States. Got it?”

Swinburne slowly drew his head back. “Fine. Let’s just get started.”

“Mr. President?”

Kyler nodded. “Yes, Ben, it does meet with my approval. And… thank you.” He crossed the room and took the seat beside Ben. Apparently this side of the room was going to be the “defendant’s table.”

“Don’t thank him yet,” Swinburne muttered.

“I’m thanking him for restoring some sense of law and order to this potential modern-day lynching.”

“Oh, give me a break.” Swinburne waved a hand in the air.

“It’s true,” Sarie said, looking up at him with the first friendly eyes Ben had seen in a good while. “Thank you for intervening, Ben.”

Ben tilted his head to one side. “It’s nothing.”

“I disagree. Right now, Ben, you’re the most important person in the room. Maybe the most important person in the country.”

Well, geez, he hadn’t thought about it like that. Nor did he want to.

Ben turned to Agent Zimmer. “Do you have the rest of the cabinet?”

“Yes,” Agent Zimmer said, pushing several buttons at once. “I’m patching them in right now.”

One of the overhead screens came to life. The blackness flickered away and was replaced by a ceiling-eye view of thirteen men and women seated around an oval table. Ben had no idea where they were located, but he could see that they were all present and waiting.

“I’m Ben Kincaid,” he informed them. “I’ll be representing the president. I assume you all already know the vice president, who will be acting as prosecutor. Have you all been briefed on the situation?”

The man in the center pulled a microphone toward him. Ben recognized him as Arnold Cross, the secretary of the treasury. “Yes, Ben, we have. I’ve been chosen to act as spokesperson on this end.”

“Good. Can everyone hear me?”

He saw many heads nodding.

“If you lose the signal or lose track of the argument at any time, please let me know.”

Cross nodded. “We will, Ben. We’re ready.”

“Very well.” Ben saw that, while he was talking, Admiral Cartwright had taken a seat at the head of the table. “Your honor, I believe we’re ready to proceed.”

Cartwright nodded. All at once, his expression was blank and unemotional. Judicial. He apparently had the ability to rein in his hyperactive emotions when the situation called for it. “Very well, gentlemen.

We don’t have a lot of time here, so let’s get started. I will ask you to both keep everything brief and to the point. No unnecessary legal games or tricks or stunts. We just don’t have time for it. Call the witnesses you need and then get the hell out of the way. Understood?”

Ben and Swinburne answered together. “Yes, your honor.”

“All right then.” Cartwright leaned back in his chair. “Mr. Prosecutor-call your first witness.”

Seamus gripped the steering wheel tightly and kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

D.C. Bytes was in Anacostia, and it was taking them forever to get there. Traffic was never good this time of day, but now they were caught in a steady stream of people fleeing the Mall, not to mention the chaos that can be expected anytime a ballistic missile has been exploded in the vicinity. He wasn’t normally given to fits of road rage, but on this occasion, when every second was precious-could be the last-he had a different attitude about people who drove slowly in the passing lane and grandpas who left their turn signal blinking.

He and Arlo had both been silent since they turned away from the scene of devastation. Seamus could see something was on the kid’s mind, but at least for now, he was content to let the silence extend as long as possible.

But nothing good lasts forever.

“Is the Jefferson Memorial really your favorite?” Arlo cleared his throat. “I think, statistically, the Lincoln Memorial is the most popular.”