Fired and Walking Home — Until Two Helicopters Landed Shouting “Where’s the Nurse?!”
The President
Suddenly, the activity at the hangar entrance spiked. The Secret Service agents straightened up, hands clasping in front of them. The wall of suits parted. A man walked in. He wasn’t wearing a suit; he was wearing a casual windbreaker and jeans, but his presence filled the cavernous space instantly. He was flanked by four men who looked even more dangerous than the ones outside.
It was President Thomas Kaine. He looked older in person than on TV. The stress of the office was etched into the lines around his eyes. But right now, he didn’t look like the leader of the free world; he looked like a terrified uncle. He rushed to the gurney.
“Emily!”
Colonel Vance stepped forward. “She’s stable, Mr. President. Her airway is secure. Oxygen saturation is 100%.”
The President closed his eyes and exhaled, his shoulders sagging. He reached out and touched the little girl’s hand. “Thank God. Thank God.”
He turned to Vance. “They told me she was choking. They told me you couldn’t get the tube in.”
“I couldn’t, sir,” Vance said honestly. He was a man of integrity; despite his earlier panic, he didn’t take the credit. “It was a complex injury. I didn’t have the angle.”
“Then who did?” the President asked, looking around the small team.
Vance stepped aside and pointed to the woman leaning against the supply crates, wearing rain-soaked scrubs and holding a soggy cardboard box. “She did, sir,” Vance said. “Nurse Jenkins.”
The President walked over to Madeline. The distance seemed to close in slow motion. Madeline straightened up, feeling incredibly small and incredibly underdressed.
“Nurse Jenkins,” the President said, extending his hand.
Madeline took it. His grip was warm and firm.
“Mr. President.”
“You saved her life,” he said, his eyes intense. “My sister Emily’s mother, she passed away two years ago. I promised I’d look after her. If we had lost her today…” He trailed off, emotion choking his voice. “You have the gratitude of a nation and the eternal debt of a godfather.”
Madeline nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Where are you based?” the President asked. “St. Jude’s, right? That’s where Captain Miller picked you up. I want to personally call your administrator. I want to tell them they have a national treasure on their staff.”
Madeline froze. The world seemed to stop spinning. She looked at the President. She looked at Captain Miller, who was standing nearby listening. She looked at Vance. She could lie. She could say “Yes,” let him make the call, and maybe Sterling would be so intimidated he’d hire her back. But she looked at the cardboard box under her arm, the box with Mark’s picture. Mark hated liars.
“I’m not at St. Jude’s, Mr. President,” Madeline said quietly.
“Oh, did you transfer?”
Madeline lifted the soggy box slightly. “No, sir. About 20 minutes before your helicopter landed, I was fired.”
The silence in the hangar was absolute. The President’s eyebrows shot up. “Fired?”
“Yes, sir.”
“For what?”
Madeline took a deep breath. “For insubordination. I administered epinephrine to a dying child while the chief of surgery was debating the insurance authorization. I saved the boy, but I broke protocol.”
The President stared at her. His expression shifted from gratitude to something much sharper, much more dangerous. It was the look of a man who commanded armies.
“You were fired,” the President repeated slowly. “For saving a child?”
“Yes, sir. By Dr. Marcus Sterling.”
The President turned to his chief of staff, a woman standing silently behind him with a tablet. “Get the Director of Health and Human Services on the phone,” the President said, his voice low and cold. “And get the Governor of Illinois on the other line. And find out who sits on the board of directors for St. Jude’s Hospital.”
He turned back to Madeline, a small, grim smile playing on his lips. “Nurse Jenkins,” the President said. “I don’t think you’re going to be unemployed for very long. But first, do you have a change of clothes? You look like you swam here.”
“I don’t, sir. This box is all I have.”
“Well,” the President said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We’re going to fix that. And then we’re going to have a little chat about Dr. Sterling.”
