The director of the FBI quickly reacted, jumping behind the podium and the Secret Service leaped into action in the form of snipers on the rooftop. The door to Blair was kicked down and the Secret Service agents standing guard in the house rushed out. Barrowman and Brock promptly fired as tires squealed after a crash was heard. "What the hell?" Barrowman screamed.
"Extremists!" Brock shouted. "Get them to safety!" I listened to them while I quickly inspected dad's wound. The bullet tore through his shoulder's muscle but he is still rapidly bleeding. Ripping off a portion of dad's shirt I tied an emergency tourniquet on his injured shoulder and applied pressure on the gunshot wound.
"I need a medic!" I screamed at Barrowman. "The President is shot!" Brock quickly dropped his briefcase and kicked it towards my direction. Quickly unlocking the briefcase I saw two Glock handguns tucked securely inside the briefcase. I took the first and fired at Barrowman's location to my left, hitting the glass window. Inside the window an Arabian man fell onto his back, holding something black in his hand. I heard more gunfire and guessed that the assailants are six people.
"GO!" I screamed at Brandon and Jacobson, before turning to return fire. The podium was built with sturdy wood, strong enough to resist bullets. Whirling out of cover I fired twice but one went astray, hitting the pine tree nearby. Julius managed to grab the gun and shot the extremist nearby, ducking back when he returned fire. My second shot hit the third extremist in the shoulder but when I pulled my trigger I heard a faint click. "Oh you've got to be-" a bullet zipped past my cheek before I can finish and another one hit my arm where I held the gun, forcing me to drop the weapon. Falling back I clutched my arm tightly to stop the bleeding while Barrowman, Brock and Harkavy continued to protect us. The snipers threw smoke grenades, white smoke surrounded the premises when the grenades hit the ground. Barrowman grabbed my father while Brock grabbed me, the director firing a few shots before joining us.
"Get out of here! Go from the back!" Julius shouted. Blair has a parking spot for emergency purposes and the presidential limousine is sitting there, idling along with my private SUV. The windows at the second floor of the guesthouse broke and two coils of rope fell from it. Bruce and Richard quickly came down from their location by the ropes and met eyes with us. "You two use VPOTUS' SUV. We'll get the POTUS and VPOTUS to a hospital."
Julius rushed us both into the limousine and the two Secret Service agents got into the front seats. "Go! Go! Go!" Brock screamed at his senior. Barrowman glared at him and flattened the accelerator, throwing the car into full acceleration and zoomed towards Washington Medical.
"You're hurt!" Kaitlyn exclaimed.
"I'm fine!" I replied through gritted teeth. Kicking a rear compartment a medical kit popped up and I grabbed two injectors. "This is going to sting a little Mr. President." I say. Jabbing the injector I released the contents within the injector which is anaesthetic and I jabbed myself with one.
"Two minutes from Washington Medical!" Brock called from the front. The vehicle screeched to a halt in front of the emergency unit and the paramedics standing by looked at us weirdly. "1600 Pennsylvania Avenue! The President and Vice President is shot!" he screamed at them. The emergency team sprang into action, quickly removing the President, placing him on the stretcher and rushed him to the emergency room for surgery. The lead doctor recognized me immediately as I sat on the examination table.
"You're really tough Madam Vice President, enough to survive this." he gestured at my injured arm. "You're in the army?"
"I'm a West Pointer Doc. Spent eight years abroad." I replied as he checks the gunshot wound.
"You gotta need surgery for that."
"Can you do it? Half anaesthetic?" the doctor hesitated when I asked. "I can take it." Agent Brock watched the surgery unfold : the doctor cuts out the part of the sleeve to examine my wound closely, using a scalpel to cut the arm after injecting anaesthetic to numb the area. I didn't scream or cry in pain as he extracted the bullet. The bullet dropped on the tray with a 'clink' and he started wrapping bandage around the wound after stitching it up and sterilizing it.
"There. All done." he said. The agent then helped me to get down and I walked out of the room. Sitting on the chair outside the emergency room I waited impatiently and a few minutes later the doors parted, the doctor removing his surgical mask.
"Is my father all right?" I grabbed the doctor.
"Yes Madam Vice President. You can see the President later." I breathed in a sigh of relief and slumped onto a chair. A while later the four of us entered the hospital room with Brock and Barrowman escorting. Dad was lying on the bed, hooked to an IV machine and dressed a white hospital gown. He was angry beyond normal and well... I couldn't blame him. His glance focused on my bandaged arm and he frowned. "Well... President Reagan's lucky. The bullet only took out some of his muscle tissues. He should be fine." the doctor said, lifting a paper, probably a medical report, clipped to the clipboard.
"It's not good for you to play hero sir." I say. "I worry."
"It wasn't my first time getting shot Madam Vice President." he retorted. "Well, the last time was twenty years ago in Iraq."
"You're in near top physical condition sir."
"Well that's my secret Doc." he said.
"I'll leave the time for this little Cabinet." the doctor closed the door shut and I removed my jacket, placing it on the nearby chair. Folding my arms I stared daggers at my boss while he shrugged.
"Sir, what's our next move?" Brandon asked.
"We'll discuss the investigation right now." he said. "Barrowman?"