* * *
Cavanagh watched the live TV feed of Congress’ final debate from the comfort of the Oval Office, his wife seated on the couch beside him, both knowing that it signalled the end of his two-year Administration. Despite the attack on Thorn and the wolves waiting outside to barrack any member of Congress who dared show their face, the prospect of a vote had initially stalled, Deangelo still unable to win a majority in the House of Representatives.
As the afternoon had dragged on, and with the crowd becoming increasingly restless, Cavanagh had finally been the one to break the deadlock, effectively falling on his sword and offering a private guarantee to Congress as to his resignation: once Deangelo formally stated that he was ready, then Cavanagh would simply step aside – no argument, no fuss.
Congress took a formal vote at 16:20, the Senate confirming Deangelo as Vice-President by 67 votes to 20 – not an overwhelming mandate but it was enough. Thirty minutes later the Speaker of the House confirmed their vote: yea 236, nay 188.
Cavanagh let out a sigh, his wife gripping his hand in sympathy. He could visualise the scene in Congress, with Deangelo getting ready to take the oath of office as Vice President of the United States. Tradition dictated that it was the Chief Justice who administered the oath of office to the President-elect, but for a Vice-President it was a much more relaxed affair, and nowadays they tended to pick close friends and associates. The location, however, was rather more traditional, with the Vice-President reciting the oath on the west front terrace of the Capitol – that would now prove difficult with Thorn and his supporters standing just yards away on the lower terrace.
The picture from CNN flipped to the view of the terrace as seen from the west, the presenter talking through the momentous events of the day as the camera panned back across the National Mall, before roaming at will to show people settling down for a second night. The unrest of earlier had passed, the police securing the area east of the Capitol without the need for tear gas.
Cavanagh sensed his wife crying silently beside him and he held her close, a strange sense of desolation seeming to settle over them. The White House was never really their home, more of a temporary refuge. Cavanagh had modestly expected four years and hoped for eight; now he would have to settle for just two.
The image from CNN re-focused on the steps leading down from the Capitol’s west front, zooming in to show Mayor Henry apparently leading three others down to the lower terrace, the D.C. police acting both as escort and a protective barrier.
Cavanagh couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, CNN confirming the identities of those accompanying the Mayor: Bob Deangelo, his wife, and Judge Gerald Sanderson.
The protestors closest to the terrace quickly recognised Deangelo and they started to jeer, only to be silenced with a wave by Thorn who somewhat hesitantly strode across to the microphone.
“Everyone,” Thorn pleaded, the speakers carrying his voice across the Mall, “let’s give Bob Deangelo a chance. He has asked to speak to you all and I believe it’s important that we listen to what he has to say.”
Deangelo nodded his thanks, and moved to the microphone, his wife and Judge Sanderson standing to either side.
“Thank you for giving me the opportunity to say a few words on what has been a very difficult and emotional day for us all. We have seen blood spilt just yards from where Congress has sat in an emergency session; Dick Thorn stands beside me now with his arm bandaged, and the bravery and resolve shown by everyone in the Mall has been truly remarkable.”
There was a smattering of applause but Deangelo quickly held up his hand to indicate he had far more to say. “Indeed the presence of so many of you here today is proof of the genuine strength of feeling that is shared by millions across America, and I understand your sense of frustration with the state of democracy in our great nation. We have all been concerned by the decisions taken by the present Administration, and the lack of support offered to our friends and allies in the South China Sea. Dick Thorn has been a faithful servant to the United States, and as Secretary of State has flown twenty times around the world to ensure we stayed safe in our beds. No-one could have asked for more.”
He turned aside and held out his hand in thanks to Thorn, the two of them shaking hands to a renewed and more expansive surge of applause.
Deangelo moved back to the microphone. “I stand before you all to make a public commitment; a simple affirmation that the United States does have the vision and strength of will to live up to its birthright as a great superpower. I will not make promises and then ignore them; I will not ignore the pleas of our loyal allies; I will not let others believe they can threaten or try to blackmail the United States without fear of retribution. We must not be afraid to show the world that we are a good friend and a fierce enemy, a nation with the courage to carry us through the difficult times, safe in the knowledge that our cause is just. There should be no reason to feel ashamed to say you are an American, every reason to be proud of what this great country stands for… God bless these United States of America.”
Deangelo stepped back a pace and Judge Sanderson moved quickly to the microphone, the crowd staying silent, most people confused as to what was happening.
Deangelo’s wife stepped forward, holding out a bible; a smile of thanks and Deangelo placed his left hand down onto it, Thorn’s presence just feet away a clear sign to everyone that the ceremony had his full backing.
“Please raise your right hand,” announced Judge Sanderson, “and repeat after me.” Sanderson then read out the whole oath in one go, not bothering to separate it into small chunks.
A brief nod and Deangelo stepped up to the microphone, speaking slowly and with emphasis, his deep voice booming out over the National Mall. “I, Robert Michael Deangelo, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.”
There was sustained applause, led by Thorn, the two men again shaking hands. Together they turned to face the Mall, Deangelo taking hold of Thorn’s left hand, and with arms raised they stood together in a clear, almost blatant, gesture of mutual respect and support.
Cavanagh watched in silence, wanting to scream loudly, but fearing to show any emotion lest he completely lose control. By the strict definition of a coup, then this wasn’t an illegal seizure of power, but it was difficult not to regard it as such. He had thought Deangelo a friend, but Cavanagh realised that he had just been a gullible fool. The apparent alliance between Deangelo and Thorn wasn’t a spontaneous gesture to appease the protestors; this had to be part of some previous agreement. Deangelo, Thorn, Henry, and McDowell – they had each played their part to perfection, the separate elements that made up the conspiracy now all too obvious.
Cavanagh definitely didn’t have until Christmas; probably not even a week left as President – Deangelo had already set his heart on the main prize and he wouldn’t be patient for long.