Sam was waiting outside MPD headquarters on Indiana Avenue when Josh and Donna approached the front door.

"What are you doing here?" Donna asked.

"Really, I'm here to keep Josh occupied while you give your statement," Sam deadpanned. "But I'm also here to offer my services."

Donna's heart had been fluttering in her chest for hours. "Your services?" she asked distractedly.

"Yeah," Sam said, pulling a leather folio out from under his arm and opening it. "Donna." She turned her full attention toward him. "You're not on trial here, of course. This is just a statement. But we don't know what's gonna develop down the road as far as a possible civil suit or...anything, really. You have the right...to have someone in the room who's looking out for your interests."

Donna's brow furrowed. "You mean I need a lawyer? To give a statement?"

"No, no, you don't need one," Sam said. "But you can have one if you want one. I've got a letter of retainer. All you've gotta do is sign it and I can act as your attorney." 

Donna looked down at the letter, with a space left for her signature. The corner of the paper fluttered in the winter wind. "A civil suit?"

"That's way down the road," Josh said reassuringly. "If you and the others from the bank aren't satisfied with the outcome of the criminal trial, you could conceivably file a civil suit against Packard and Sullivan."

"I don't think I need an attorney now for then," she shook her head slowly, looking at the letter.

"You don't," Sam said again.

"Plus, I don't like how it looks. I'm just this person who had this thing happen, and then I show up to give a statement and I'm already...lawyered up. Makes me look guilty of something."

"Okay, first, people don't really say, `lawyered up,'" Sam said, unable to suppress a smile. "Second, I agree with your reasoning. I just wanted you to know you had that option." He snapped the folio closed and tucked it back under his arm.

Donna put her hand on his arm. "But thank you, Sam. Really."

Her expression warmed his heart. "Yeah, OK."

"You ready?" Josh said. He wasn't happy about this. If possible, he was dreading it even more than Donna.

Donna took a deep breath. "Yeah."

The three of them stepped into the entryway. Donna was giving her name to the officer at the desk when Linden walked through the lobby. "Sam."

Sam turned. "Bob," he said, extending his hand. "Good to see you." 

"Well, I'm sorry it's under these circumstances," Linden said. He looked at Donna. "Donna Moss, I presume."

"Yes," Donna said as she hesitantly shook Linden's hand.

"How's the shoulder?"

"It's progressing," Donna said.

"Good," Linden said. His eyes tracked to Josh.

"Josh Lyman, we spoke last—"

"At this point, I'd know your voice in my sleep, Josh. Good to meet you," Linden said, shaking his hand.

"Thanks for everything Friday. You know, with—"

"Josh, I was mostly just working the phones and coordinating the efforts on-scene. I didn't storm the building or anything," Linden brushed the thanks aside.

"Well, I appreciate it anyway," Josh said sincerely. "Did you hear from a Stanley Keyworth this morning?"

"I did, and we've worked everything out. He's already at my desk. Which is where we'll head, actually," Linden opened a door for them. "Lou, this is my 1 p.m. I'll be taking a statement."

The officer at the desk nodded.

The MPD detectives had a bullpen of their own, which was surprisingly busy for a Sunday afternoon. "Everybody's been putting in time this weekend since the bank," Linden said as he led the way through the maze of desks.

Stanley appeared placid as he observed the buzzing activity around him. He shook Sam's hand when they approached and they muttered brief hellos.

"I assume everyone knows each other?" Linden said. He was answered by a round of nods.

"OK, Donna, we're gonna be set up over here," he motioned toward a room at the edge of the bullpen and began to usher her in that direction. Donna halted momentarily and looked back at Josh. 

"I'm just gonna be out here with Sam," Josh tried for levity, but failed. "We'll be right out here if...we'll be right out here."

Donna nodded and forced a shaky smile as she turned away.

Stanley gave Josh a reassuring look before following them.

The room was like any typical police station meeting room. Worn table and chairs with little else in the room. Two-way mirror on the wall. That was what caught Donna's attention immediately.

"We've got them in every meeting room," Linden said, somewhat apologetically, having seen that expression countless times before. We have to be able to use any available space for interrogations when we need to, and we don't have the space to have both interrogation rooms and standard meeting rooms."

Donna nodded as she watched her reflection. God, she looked terrible. She looked absolutely exhausted.

"There's a curtain I can close if—"

"No, no, it's fine, I understand," Donna said, looking away from her reflection finally.

"We're gonna videotape your statement," Linden said as he pulled out a chair for her. Her side was to the two-way mirror and she was facing the video camera at the opposite end of the table. "It's standard procedure. Sometimes these things take a while to get to trial. This way, we've got a record of your statement."

Donna was a little flummoxed by the camera, but nodded. If this was what it was going to take.

"I'm gonna go get us some coffee and we'll get started," Linden said as Stanley sat down beside Donna. "You want anything besides coffee? Soda? Water?"

Donna shook her head. "Coffee's fine," it came out almost like a whisper.

"Back in a minute," Linden said as he closed the door behind him.

"Relax, Donna," Stanley said. "He's gonna ask you what happened. All you have to do is tell him. Don't worry about the camera, just ignore it. I'll be here the whole time. Look at me if you start to feel too anxious, OK?"

"OK," Donna said, exhaling slowly.

"It's not gonna be what you're imagining. It's not gonna be some big dramatic thing. This is not an episode of `NYPD Blue,'" Stanley said. "They just need to get your statement  for the record. That's all the camera's about."

She nodded again. "I'll try to refrain from using terms like 'skell' and 'pokey.' Sam's already chastised me for using `lawyered up.'"

*************

"I got your message," Linden told Josh when he came back out of the room. "You wanted to see her give her statement?"

Josh nodded. "I think it would help if I knew...if we knew exactly what she went through. She tries to downplay things in front of us sometimes."

"We wouldn't ask, Bob, and we know you don't normally do that type of thing..." Sam started.

"No, I don't," Linden said firmly. "But you did ask, and you're not typical citizens, are you?"

"Bob, we're not trying to play the White House card, here. Donna just..." Sam trailed off. "She means an awful lot to us, is all. And she's trying to protect us by pretending everything's fine, when obviously, you know...it's anything but."

"Well, your guy Keyworth seems to feel it would be a good idea, too," Linden said.

"He...how does he know we even asked?" Josh said.

"I assumed you told him," Linden responded, surprised.

Josh and Sam looked at each other. "OK, he's starting to scare me a little, now," Josh said.

"Anyway," Linden said. "We want to work with the victims to allow them to get the help they need after this. So we're gonna let you sit in the next room and watch through the mirror." He led them to the door next to the room where Donna and Stanley were. "Keep your voices down. Don't turn the light on. And if she asks me if anybody's in here, I'm not gonna lie to her."

"Fair enough," Sam said.

********

"There's something else I want you to refrain from, too," Stanley said. "When he asks you what happened, that's what I want you to think about. What happened. The actual events. I don't want you to think about how you felt, how scared you were, how angry. That's what we'll deal with later. You have two goals for today: to get your statement on record, and to describe what happened Friday in a way that does not send your brain into emotional overload."

"That's a tall order, Stanley," Donna said.

"I know," he said. "But you gotta start somewhere."

Linden came in with the coffee just as Josh and Sam leaned against the table in the adjacent dark room, not much bigger than a broom closet.

"Part of this feels wrong," Sam said quietly. "Like we're invading her privacy."

"The whole world's gonna watch it when it goes to trial, and I don't want to make her go through it all again to tell us," Josh said, his eyes never leaving Donna. "Besides which, you're right. She's not going to tell us everything. And we need to know. If we're gonna help her, we need to know. I'm not gonna have any trouble looking her in the eye after this." 

"She hasn't had another thing since yesterday, has she?"

"No," Josh said. "We had a...a momentary wrinkle this morning, but she handled it. Mostly, she's just been wound up about this thing. Which is why I'll be glad to have it over."

**********

Linden started the camera and gathered her basic biographical information to start off — name, address, where she worked. "And, just to clarify, we'll get to this later, but you were injured Friday in the incident we're going to discuss, is that correct?"

"Yes," Donna said, unsure of what she was getting at.

"Are you currently on any medications for your injury that might effect your clarity of thought or your memory?" Linden said.

"My clarity..." Donna exhaled in a huff. "I was prescribed Vicodin for the pain, which I am still currently taking," she said. "I took the last dose around 8 a.m. Is that going to prevent me from making my statement?"

"No," Linden said with a small smile. "But it's better if we get it out there, instead of having it come up for the first time in court. You seemed to be able to give me your name and address just fine, I'd wager you're of sound mind."

Donna cast a sidelong glace toward Stanley, who seemed unfazed.

"Donna, I've gathered statements from several others who were in the bank that night, already, so you're not going to have to build the scene from scratch for me," he said. "Just tell me what happened to the best of your recollection, and we'll go from there. I'm gonna make this as easy as possible."

Donna nodded, appreciating Linden's attempt at understanding, but not feeling reassured.

"Why did you go to the bank on E Street Friday?" Linden began.

OK. You can do this. "I was...I went to use the ATM. It...I actually hadn't even planned to go there. There's a deli across the street, a sandwich shop we go to sometimes. I had gone there to pick up dinner and take it back to work."

"Who's we?" Linden interrupted.

"I'm sorry?"

"You said, 'we go there sometimes.' Were you alone Friday?" Linden asked.

"Oh. We...my co-workers, my friends and I, we frequent the sandwich shop. But I was alone Friday. I had gone to pick up dinner for my boss and I, and their modem was down, they couldn't run any credit cards. I didn't have any cash, so I ran across the street to use the walk-up ATM."

"And what time was that?"

Donna remembered looking at her watch when the ATM machine had gone berserk. "A little before 5."

"Did you use the walk-up ATM?"

"I tried to," Donna said. "It ate my card. I didn't want to be without it all weekend, so I went inside before they closed to see if I could get it back. Actually, I guess I still don't have it back."

"We'll contact the bank manager," Linden said in an effort to dismiss the wayward thought. He needed to keep her on track. "Was there anything unusual when you went in the bank?"

"No," she said. They were almost empty, they were about to close. I went up to one of the tellers and told her about my card. She began to go over a form with me, and then all of a sudden, I saw her face just...she just went white as a sheet."

"The teller?"

"Yeah," Donna said, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I turned around and there were three men in the lobby. They'd taken Fred's...there was...the security guard, Fred Garfield, they'd taken his gun and they had guns of their own."

"Did you know Mr. Garfield?"

"No, I met him that day," Donna said. "I didn't know who he was at that point, sorry. Just knew he was the security guard."

"OK. Did they say anything?"

Donna stared into space for a minute, then shook her head a little. "He said something. But it's...that part's a little fuzzy."

"Who is 'he'?"

"Uh, Bernard, the ringleader."

"Did he tell you his name?" Linden asked.

"No, the other one...Hank. They called each other by name later on, I heard them. I didn't know his name at first." Her hands were trembling a little. She gripped her coffee cup tighter.

"OK," Linden said. "Back to the moment they walked in...do you remember anything from right after that?"

Donna exhaled, a shaky breath. "I just remember thinking—"

"Donna," Stanley spoke up from his spot to her left. "What do you remember doing next? After they came in the lobby, what did you do?"

Donna took a moment to think about that. "I went and stood against the wall. He told us to. They brought some people out from the back. I also...he...Bernard...told me to put my purse on the floor and kick it towards him, and I did."

On the other side of the glass, Josh's jaw was clenched tightly, while his arms were folded defensively over his chest. Sam seemed completely absorbed in Donna's tale.

"We sat down on the floor," Donna remembered. "That's what they told us to do."

"OK," Linden said. "What happened next?"

"Nothing," Donna said. "They went to work on the vault, which was in the back, so we just sat there. They told us...Bernard kept saying we'd be home in time for dinner." She shook her head a little sadly.

"Did they get the vault open?" Stanley asked pointedly. He knew the answer, of course. He'd read Linden's report. But he needed to keep her focused on the events instead of her emotions.

"They did. It really didn't take that long. And they were about to leave, and then one of them saw police outside."

"Do you know what time this was?" Linden asked.

"I'm sorry, the times really are just a blur," she said apologetically. "Maybe 6:30? 7? But that's just a guess." 

Linden flipped through his own report. "Patrol cars did drive-bys at the bank in response to citizen tips and a silent alarm in the vault at approximately 6:45." He gave Donna a little smile. "Good guess."

"Thanks," she said wryly.

"What happened when they saw the cruisers? You said they were leaving?" he asked.

"Yeah, Bernard was sort of...saying his goodbyes." She chuckled humorlessly. "He was pretty talkative. They were about to go and one of the others saw the patrol cars, and I guess that's when everything sort of fell apart."

*********

In the observation room, Josh inhaled suddenly, drawing Sam's attention. "Josh?"

"Oh, God," he whispered. He looked like he was about to pass out. 

"Josh, let's —"

Josh took off running before Sam could finish his sentence. He tore through the bullpen and into a restroom they'd passed on the way in. He was retching over a toilet by the time Sam caught up with him a few seconds later.

"What happened?" Sam said, after Josh got his breathing under control.

"It was me," Josh whispered as he leaned against the wall listlessly. 

"What was?"

"The citizen report. Karim called me looking for Donna, said she'd gone to the bank and he was missing another of his regulars who worked there," Josh said, closing his eyes. "That's when I called Linden. I'm the citizen report."

Sam wasn't catching the segue way. "Yeah?"

"They were leaving, Sam."

Sam just shook his head a little.

"They were leaving when I called!" he said loudly, voice echoing off the yellow-tiled walls. "They were almost out of there and they would have left everyone unhurt, but I called and sent the police over there, and that's what spooked them."

"Josh, don't!" Sam said sternly.

"It was almost over, Sam! You heard her. They were on their way out the door, and I made it worse. She had to go through all those extra hours because I— and the S.W.A.T. team, and she got hurt...that guy died, Sam, because I called—"

"Dammit, stop it!" Sam shouted, grabbing Josh by the shirt.

"What the hell is going on in here?" A gruff detective stood in the door, taking in the scene before him.

"Nothing," Sam turned around. "We're fine. Could we get a minute?" 

The detective had seen them come in, and recognized them both. He might have given total strangers a bit of a harder time, but after looking at both of them a moment, he nodded. "Keep it down," he said, as he stepped back into the bullpen.

**************

"OK, I need to back up a second," Linden way saying back in the interview room. "When did they start tying the hands and feet of everyone in the bank...before or after they saw the patrol cars?"

"I'm not sure," Donna closed her eyes. She'd been avoiding discussion of this since it happened.

"I'm sorry to have to ask, Donna, but I've got conflicting reports from some of the witnesses. Some say before, some say after," Linden said. "Are you sure you can't narrow it down for me?"

Donna closed her eyes a little tighter and tried to concentrate. "Go ahead and get them ready," she heard Bernard's voice say to Hank. She remembered watching Hank pull the cable ties out of his bag. "Ladies and gentlemen, we're going to be taking our leave of you momentarily. I'd like to thank you all for your coop-"

"Before," Donna opened her eyes suddenly. "It was right before. He said something about needing a delay before we called anyone. I think Hank was still working his way down the line when they spotted the patrol car."

"So he started before, but then—"

"Yeah," Donna said, absentmindedly picking at one of her wrist bandages. "They didn't finish until after. I guess everybody was right."

"And he said it was to keep you from calling for help right away?"

"Yeah," Donna nodded again, grimacing a little at the twinge in her neck.

"Did he do anything to indicate that he planned to take hostages before the drive-by? Anything to indicate that he planned to take anyone with him?"

"N-no, not that I think of," Donna said. "Was there some reason to think he might?" Her stomach was churning.

"No, we just weren't sure whether they used the restraints because they planned to leave you there or they planned to take some of you with them," Linden said. "Could have gone either way. We're also trying to compare your impressions of them with Sullivan's statement, to see how truthful he's being."

Donna's eyes were wide. She couldn't imagine finding herself on the run with those three.

"What happened after they saw the patrol cars?" Stanley asked.

************

Sam turned back to Josh as the door closed behind the detective. "I don't want to hear this out of you. You have the worst guilt complex I've ever seen, Josh! What would you have done differently if you could do Friday night over? There was no way you could know what was happening. None. What were you supposed to do, just sit on that information?"

"Sam," Josh started tiredly.

"No!" Sam cut him off. "What did I say to you that night? I know you feel bad about this Josh, we all do. I know it scared the hell out of you. It scared me, too. We all wish we could have done something to have kept her from ending up there. But we couldn't have known, Josh. Don't you think I wish it had been me instead of her? Or at least that I'd been there with her? I hate to see her hurting like this now, Josh, it's not just you. We all feel bad about it. But I told you that night that you can't go down that road. She needs you to be strong for her, Josh. She's counting on you. On you especially. You can't help her if you're so bogged down in your own guilt you can't function."

"You're right," Josh said quietly. "OK. You're right."

Sam let go of Josh's shirt and paced to the other side of the room, leaning back against the opposite wall. "I want you to talk to Stanley about this before he leaves."

"Sam, come on, I'm not gonna —"

"Not to sound insensitive, Josh, but I could give a damn what you're gonna do. I'm thinking about her. I don't want her staying with you, depending on you when you're in a tailspin of your own," Sam said.

"I'm not in a tailspin," Josh said weakly. "I'm not gonna let her down, Sam."

Sam softened a little at that. "I know, buddy, but you can't help her if you're dealing with your own issues on this. I'm not saying you don't have a right to have a few issues after this...hell, I wouldn't mind grabbing a cup of coffee with Stanley myself sometime." Josh looked up at him. "But you've gotta stay ahead of yourself, because you can't keep her together if you're falling apart."

Josh nodded.

"Maybe it was a mistake to listen to her statement," Sam said.

"No," Josh said. "You think she would have told us some of this stuff otherwise?"

Sam looked at him for a moment. "No."

"OK. Speaking of which, we'd better—"

"Give me one good reason I should let you go back in there," Sam said, seeing opportunity knocking.

"Because I'll kick your pretty boy ass if you don't."

"Josh."

Josh sighed. "Because I'm gonna talk to Stanley before he leaves." 

Sam nodded. "OK. Let's go."

**********

"He just went ballistic. He was screaming at her, pointing the gun at her, threatening her," Donna was saying as Josh and Sam came back into the observation room. "She was hysterical."

"Because he was convinced she'd set off a silent alarm," Linden said.

"Yeah," Donna said. "Patti...that was the teller's name, Patti. She denied it, but he didn't believe her, because she was the only teller left up front when it happened."

"What happened next?" Linden asked.

"He stopped eventually," Donna said. She couldn't do it. She couldn't go through the details of that moment again.

"Why did he stop?"

"I don't know," Donna hedged. "The whole thing was coming apart at the seams. He couldn't spend all night on her."

Stanley had noticed the change in Donna's demeanor, but hadn't said anything yet. Linden consulted his notes, then slid a page across the table to Stanley. Stanley looked at it for a moment, nodding as he read. He handed the page back to Linden.

"Did you say anything, Donna?" Stanley asked.

"What?"

"When Bernard was harassing Patti, did you say something to try to get him to stop?" Stanley asked.

>No. I don't want to do this. "Stanley, do we have to..."

"Yeah," Stanley nodded. "We do."

Donna heaved a sigh. "I opened my big mouth. I felt sorry for her, and she was so upset, and he was just doing it to be cruel after a certain point, I didn't think...yes. Yes, I said something."

"What did you say?" Linden asked.

"I told him that...that she was obviously too scared to have done it. That she was too scared to have tripped a silent alarm," Donna said. "It just came out before I realized. How did you know that?" She looked at Stanley.

"Patti gave her statement this morning," Stanley said.

Donna exhaled slowly. If Patti had told them the first part, she'd told them the rest.

"What did Bernard do when you said that?" Stanley asked, as if on cue.

"I don't want to...is it really important to go into all this?" she looked at Linden, hoping for a rescue from Stanley.

"Witnesses at the scene say he threatened you directly. That's pertinent to the case," Linden said. "What did he say?"

Now they were ganging up on her. Donna looked into her cold coffee and fought the sting in her eyes. "He asked me my name. Everyone else had a nametag; everyone else worked for the bank. He just asked me my name."

"Did you tell him?" Stanley asked.

"No," Donna said. "I froze."

"Then what happened, Donna?" Stanley pressed.

"He remembered my purse from before. Got my wallet out and looked at my license. Read my name and address aloud. Made some comment about the neighborhood I live in."

In the next room, Sam swore under his breath. Josh was gripping the edges of the table so hard his knuckles were white.

"Did he threaten you directly?" Linden asked, surprisingly gently.

"He said...God," a single tear fell and rolled down her cheek. "He made some comment about how he wasn't going to forget what I'd said, or where I lived, and that he'd have to stop...stop by sometime, when all this was over. That we'd spend some time ca-catching up. Just the two of us." Her voice was full of emotion but she didn't break down.

"He's in a coma, Donna," Stanley said. "He's not going anywhere, and if he weren't in a coma he'd be in jail."

"I know," she said automatically.

"Do you?"

She looked at him. "Yes."

Stanley made a note on his own pad. Yeah, she thought. We'll be coming back to that later.

"Was that all?" Linden asked.

"What?"

"Was that all he said?"

"Yeah," Donna said. A small smile crossed her watery features. 'You did good. I know it might not feel that way, but you did. You kept your head and you got him off of Patti. That was nice of you.'

"And that's when I got started talking to Fred," she volunteered.

************

"Fred's the security guard?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Josh said, still boiling under. "The bastard told her he was gonna come find her and..."

"I know," Sam said.

"She should never have said anything," Josh said mournfully.

"It's Donna, Josh," Sam looked at him. "Donna, who finds homes for every stray animal she comes across in Lafayette Park. Donna, who won't let you kill the mouse she thinks she's got in her apartment. She wants you to catch it and set it loose. Donna, who won't even let me eat a veal chop in peace because it's baby cow." Josh smiled. "Can you honestly see her letting someone weaker get picked on like that without trying to do something?"

"No," Josh said. "It's just—"

"Who she is," Sam finished for him.

"That may have been...that night at the hospital, when I said she didn't know me at first? She said something about she was sorry she ever said anything," he watched her closely. "That must have been what she meant."

Sam looked through the glass. "That son of a bitch had better hope he doesn't wake up."

"Yeah."

**************

"What was happening in between phone calls?" Linden asked.

"A lot of discussion," Donna shrugged. "A lot of planning. Trying to decide what to ask for, that kind of thing. Most of the night was a lot of wait and hurry up."

"Did they talk to any of you at this point?"

"No," Donna said. "One of them stood guard, and the other two...Bernard and Hank...tried to come up with a new plan between calls."

"What were you doing during all this?" Stanley asked.

"Waiting, mostly," Donna said. "Talking to Fred. He was retired from MPD, so he told me what was probably going on outside at each stage in the game. And when we didn't talk about that we mostly just tried to fill the time with small talk."

"Such as?" Linden asked.

"Family. Jobs. Grandchildren. Future plans. This was when we thought Fred was still gonna have future plans," she said bitterly.

*************

Josh winced. That didn't even sound like Donna.

**************

"What else?" Linden said, ignoring Donna's remark.

"Nothing else. The S.W.A.T. team came in eventually and that was that."

"He's talking about the other confrontation you had with Bernard," Stanley said firmly. Donna looked at him. "Witnesses said there was a second altercation between the two of you."

"Damn it, why do we have to go into every little—"

"Because this is your statement, Donna," Stanley raised his voice for the first time. "It's not your version of events as you would like to rewrite it, it's not the abridged version where you leave out all the stuff you're not comfortable with. It's your account of what happened. WHAT. HAPPENED."

"What do you want to hear?" she shot back, her voice a notch above Stanley's. "He saw my White House ID. He saw it. I don't know how, I just looked up and he had it in his hand."

"Where was it before he had it?" Stanley asked, undaunted by her attitude.

"In my purse," Donna said. "He and Hank were arguing about something, they were...they couldn't decide what to do, and all of a sudden they stopped, and I looked up, and he had my ID badge in his hand." Her eyes filled with tears.

"What happened, Donna?"

'Well, it turns out I was wrong. It wasn't that you didn't have a nametag, Donnatella Moss. It was just that you weren't wearing it.' "He was...amused. I mean, this was a quite the upswing for him. He teased me a little," her voice started to sound faraway. "He had this thing about my name. He loved saying it I think, he certainly did it often enough." She shuddered. "He said..." Tears sprang to her eyes again as the moment flooded back to her. "He said I was going to be invaluable." Her voice broke on the last word and she bowed her head.

"He was going to use you as a negotiating point?" Linden tried to confirm.

Donna nodded her head. "He was gonna try. But the President...the President of the United States does not negotiate with terrorists. So, you know..." A few tears fell.

"I wanna take a break," Stanley looked at Linden.

"No," Donna said, sitting up straighter and swiping at her cheeks with her hands. "Let's just get it over with."

************

Josh's head was hung so low his chin was against his chest. His breath came in pants.

"It's what you were afraid of," Sam said softly. "That they'd try to use her connections to bargain their way out of this."

"She told me yesterday," Josh whispered. "When Mrs. Bartlet took her up to the residence. She told me then. She said nothing happened, it ended before he could do anything about it." He paused for a moment, eyes locked on her face. "What is that supposed to mean, 'The President does not negotiate with terrorists'?"

"He doesn't," Sam said.

"He would have," Josh snapped. "We would have figured something out. Not negotiation per se, but...something. God, does she actually think we would have just left her in there?"

"Your perspective changes when you're the one waiting on the rescue, I would imagine," Sam said.

************

Linden looked at Stanley, silently questioning whether he should continue. Stanley stared at Donna, while Donna stared at the table.

"What happened after he said that to you, Donna?" Stanley said finally.

"He left me alone for a little while," Donna said. She took a deep breath. "I talked to Fred for a little while."

"Then what?" Stanley asked, eager to move her on from this part.

"Then...S.W.A.T. team," Donna said.

"Okay, on that, I need you to go through everything you remember," Linden chimed in.

"It's all just..."

"How did it start?" Stanley asked.

Donna closed her eyes again. "The phone rang."

"Did they answer it?"

"I don't know if they got the chance. Bernard wanted me to talk to them, so he came and got me."

"He got you?"

"From my spot by the wall. He was dragging me to the phone."

"Did you get to talk on the phone?"

"No. We were in the middle of the room when the S.W.A.T. team came
in."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. Nothing for a minute. I don't think any of them expected for it to happen that second. Even Fred didn't think it would happen until after the phone call."

Linden needed to try to track the events leading up to Fred's death. "Did Fred stay by the wall where you'd been?"

"Yeah, but..." Tears began to roll from under her closed eyelids. "He got caught."

"Caught doing what?" Stanley picked up again.

"Talking to me," Donna whispered. "I was scared and he was...talking to me."

"What happened when he got caught?"

"The strong one, the...the third one, he grabbed him and was screaming at him. I didn't see what happened next because of Bernard."

"And when the S.W.A.T. team came in?"

"Everybody just froze," Donna said. "Bernard had hold of me and he was kind of...behind me I guess. And everybody just froze." Her tears increased. "They were outgunned, and they knew it, I don't know why they would..."

"Just tell us what happened, Donna," Stanley said loudly.

Donna took a deep breath and swiped at her cheeks. "One of them started shooting. I don't know which. Then everybody started and it was just total chaos."

"What else do you remember?"

"I remember...I remember Bernard's gun going off beside me, I remember him pulling me down with him when he was hit. I remember my shoulder hurting. Then...it was over and I was with a S.W.A.T. officer," she propped her chin in her hands. "He looked at my shoulder and said we should go out the back. When we did, I saw that Bernard was pretty bad, and they were helping the others out. I wanted to tell Fred I would meet him at the hospital, that I'd see him there, but..."

"He was already gone," Linden finished for her.

Donna nodded, a few more tears spilling over.

Linden stood up and shut off the camera. "Thank you, Donna. That's all we need for now." He looked at Stanley, who remained seated across the table. "We don't need the room right away."

"We'll just be a few minutes," Stanley said.

Linden walked back into the bullpen and saw the observation room was still closed. He opened the door to find Josh and Sam still staring, dazed, through the glass.

"I think you guys are gonna blow your cover if you stay in there for too much longer."

Sam looked at him and walked toward the door. "He used her as a human shield?" his voice was strangled.

"That's what reports from the S.W.A.T. officers indicated as well. It sounds like it was more out of convenience than an advance plan."

"I don't give a damn why it was," Sam said, a little louder than he meant to.

"We've added it to the list, Sam, don't worry about it," Linden said as he dropped his notes back on his desk. "But even before you start adding in all the little things, the robbery alone is gonna put them away for a long time."

Josh spoke for the first time since leaving the observation room. "Why do you think he picked on her?"

"Why?" Linden asked.

"I'm saying...why her? There were eight people in there, why did he focus on her?"

"That's...tough to say without having interviewed him," Linden said honestly. "It probably started when she stood up for the teller and grew from there. Her White House connections were just bad luck on top of that. Don't worry, Josh. These guys aren't going anywhere, no matter what."

The door opened and Stanley and Donna came out. She was a little more composed than at the end of her statement.

"If you have any questions, or think of anything you want to add, just give me a call," Linden said as he handed her a card. Donna nodded and mumbled a thank you. The four of them made their way outside.

Donna didn't say another word, just fell into step beside Josh. He kept a hand firmly at the small of her back.

"Josh said you wanted to go to the memorial tomorrow," Stanley said when they got outside.

Donna nodded. "I think I...should."

"OK. If you use the same tactics you used in there, I think you should be fine. But I want to do another session with you tomorrow afternoon," Stanley said. "We've done enough for today."

"How many sessions do you think I'm gonna need?" she asked.

"As many as you do," Stanley said cryptically.

Donna shook her head. "I blew it in there, several times. I was an absolute wreck."

"You hit a few rough patches, but you kept yourself on track for the most part. You'd snap back in as soon as I'd cued you. And most importantly, you successfully gave your statement. Without experiencing a...what was it you called it this morning? A full-on nutty."

Josh smiled ruefully beside her and toed the ground. Sam nudged her with his shoulder in a "told-you-so" gesture.

"I've spent my entire career in this business and I still learn new terminology every day," Stanley said. "Give the rest of it a little time. This part's over."

"Something else to cross off the list," Josh said.

She seemed to consider that for a minute. "O.K."

"I'll see you tomorrow after the service," Stanley said.

"Want a ride back to your hotel?" Sam offered.

"Sure."

Sam wound his way around Josh and Donna. "You did good," he said into her ear.

"How would you know?"

"I know things." He squeezed her hand and he and Stanley started down the street.

The ride back to the apartment was totally silent. Donna stared out the window the entire time. She accepted Josh's hand to help her out of the car. He'd offered it every time she'd gotten in and out that day because of her neck. But this time, she didn't let go. They trudged up the stairs.

"Do you wanna lie down for a little while?" Josh asked as he opened the door. She nodded mutely and kept hold of his hand. He closed the door and turned to face her. He reached for her coat, but her fingers remained wrapped around his, her eyes fixed on the floor.

When the tears finally broke loose he wrapped his arms around her and let her sob into his chest without a word.