Disclaimer: See previous chapters

Acknowledgments: I would like to thank my magnificent Beta Readers, Robyn and Janie. You are life savers. Hugs and Kisses to you both.

The sea was mad. The waves were fierce and unforgiving. It was looking for something to focus that anger upon and the only thing it could find was a small sailboat, in the middle of this fury, aimlessly and hopelessly bobbing on its surface. Up and down, left and right, the craft was being tossed in all directions. On its deck, Sam Seaborn lay unconscious.

His body was shivering from its immersion in the cold ocean water and the constant rainfall. His right eye, still swollen shut, and the deep gash on his temple were now displaying tinges of blue, black and purple, making a huge contrast from his pale features.

Images filled the eye in Sam's mind: a room full of desks, an office dark with mahogany, a laughing woman with auburn hair. Who were these people? What are these places? Opening his eyes, all he saw were patches of light and darkness. The only sound he could identify was the sound of the water gently splashing against the side of his ... the side of what? He blinked, but his vision wouldn't clear. He tried to raise his hand to his face, but it would not move. He then realized that his whole body wasn't responding and he was cold, deep bone shivering cold, and soaking wet. He tried all he could to remember what had happened, what had brought him here, but he couldn't. His mind was a blank. He listened to the water again, finding it soothing and relaxing.

Suddenly, images started taking form. People. A big white building. A large city. He focused on the people, wanting so badly to associate them with their names and what part of his life they belonged to. The frustration of not being able to process the information was growing. He wanted to scream, yell out loud, but his voice was more than a whisper, his throat dry and sore. His breathing was now coming in sharp, quick breaths, pain radiating from his chest. Panic started to engulf him. Then, all of a sudden, everything was clear. Josh, CJ, Toby, Leo, The President. His co-workers. His friends. The White House. His job. Washington. His life. Mallory. He lingered on that last thought, anchoring it in his mind. He wanted to be with her so badly right now.

He needed her touch. He knew that she could make everything better. She could take the pain, the panic and all the uncertainly away. She had that power over him. She made him feel good, whole, alive. Far from what he felt right now. He longed for her. He concentrated on the forever imprinted image of her beautiful face in his mind, telling himself that as long as he could focus on that, he would find his way out of this place. The battle was short lived, and suddenly his felt that he had been transported into hell.

Being shifted left and right, lying on a wet surface, cold rain colliding with his face, each drop causing pain. The peaceful sound of the waves now a deafening crash as they collided with each other. The wind, making an appearance, was a howling roar. His body was awakening to reality and with that reality came tremendous pain. His head throbbed uncontrollably, pressure pressing against his scull. His right side of his face was throbbing to the same beat as his head, pain radiating through and through. His chest was tight and on fire, a fire that was being fed with every breath he took and burning him from the inside. His left arm felt detached from his body. All he could feel was a prickling sensation from the tip of his fingers all the way up his shoulder. He tried to move, but like in the place in which he had awoken earlier, he couldn't - but this time not because his body wouldn't obey, but because the pain was simply unbearable.

He then realized that he hadn't opened his eyes. Everything was distorted and only his left eye would open. The falling rain only let him open it slightly, and all he saw was an angry gray, cloudy sky looking down at him. A little to his right, he was able to make out the top of the mast proudly displaying the United States colors, tilting with the flow of the boat, and everything came back to him. His fall, his head colliding with the mast, waking only to have the boom detach and impact him, throwing him overboard... The last thing he even vaguely remembered was falling into the water, but he didn't know how he had managed to get back on board. All he knew was that he was ever so grateful. Evaluating his situation, he knew that he was in trouble and that there was nothing that he could do. If he could move, make it down the ladder, he could easily call for help, activate the distress beacon, but his body simply ignored his pleas.

Suddenly, he felt himself become very heavy, his eye closing. The peaceful place where all his friends and Mallory were was calling to him. He wanted to go back to where he knew he was safe, where he didn't have to worry about his predicament, and where there was no pain. He slowly drifted back there, back into the welcoming arms of the woman that he loved. He wanted to get out of this hell which had become his reality.

As Josh ran into his office, his cell phone rang. He had literally run all the way from the taxi into the building, through the halls and bullpen. He was thankful that only a few people worked at this time of the night on a Sunday. He didn't feel like having to explain himself; his emotion already too close to the surface as it was.

He had managed to put aside the watery graveyard image that had found itself implanted in his mind. It took all his concentration and focus to bring himself to the point of being able to face what was ahead of him, because he knew that it was going to be a very long and rough night. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket as he sat down at his deck, grabbing a pen and a pad in the process.

"Josh Lyman," he said upon answering.

"Mr. Lyman. Scott Adams here."

"Yes. Okay, Mr. Adams. First, any news?" Josh asked, having nothing to loose. He knew that if there was a change in the situation, he would have called earlier, but he wanted to be sure.

"No-" Josh's shoulders sagged a little- "but I was speaking with Lieutenant Harvey and told him to expect your call. He also said that he was getting information and confirmation requests from the media." Josh sighed at the mention of the media. He found them unbearable at times, but always had to remind himself that they were only doing their jobs. He was sure that some people found him unbearable at times as well. 'Give a little, take a little,' he told himself.

"We'll deal with that. Do you have his number?"

"Yes, it's 202-555-8679. That's the Coast Guard Station in Chincoteague, Virginia. Simply ask for Lieutenant Brian Harvey." Josh wrote down all the information, mentally preparing himself to make a call he definitely didn't want to make.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Adams. If you hear anything new, don't hesitate to call me. The more information we have, the better," said Josh, trying to sound cheerful.

"Of course. Uhmm.....one last thing, Mr. Lyman. If we get any other calls from the media, do we keep directing them to the Coast Guard?"

"No. Redirect them directly to the White House. Thanks again."

"No problem," Adams assured him. "Our thoughts and prayers are with you," he added before hanging up.

Josh pondered those words carefully and realized that he was going to need something to keep his feet on the ground and his head on his shoulders in the near future. He grabbed the phone on his desk and quickly dialed.

"Hello," answered a female voice after a few rings.

"Donna, it's Josh," he said with a morosely.

"Josh! I can only hope that you're calling to invite me out for a drink or a night on the town. What happened? Sam stood you up? Oh, no! What am I thinking? I forgot who I was speaking...."

"Donna, I need you to come to the office. How soon can you get here?" he asked, cutting her off. He knew that she was simply being Donna and he didn't want to explain the situation to her over the phone.

"In about 30 minutes," she answered, her tone now serious, having obviously detected the urgency in her boss' voice.

"Thanks, Donna. I'll see you in 30," he said, and hung up, not giving her a chance to ask what was going on.

Just then, his cell phone rang. He stared at it for a moment, his mind playing scenarios of who could be on the other line and what kind of information they were going to pass onto him.

"Lyman," he answered simply.

"Josh, where are you?" Leo asked him.

"I'm in my office. I just got in. I was about to make the call to the Coast Guard," he said, his voice sounding very far away.

"Listen, come to my office. Make the call from here." Josh understood what his Leo was trying to do and he was very grateful. "Are CJ and Toby here yet?" he added.

"No," answered Josh as he grabbed the sheet of paper and headed down the hall.

"Okay. I'll call the main entrance and have them come directly here."

"Add Donna to the list. I'm on my way," Josh said, and hung up. Leo nodded, understanding the need for Donna to be here. Josh was going to need all the help he could get. Before heading to Leo's office, Josh made a detour to the communications bullpen. He had to give a heads-up to the people who were on duty tonight. As be made his way to in the bullpen, he spotted Ginger. He was surprised to see her at work on a Sunday night.

"Ginger, what are you doing here?" he asked as he approached her desk. She looked up at him with a similar surprised look.

"I could ask you the same thing?" she asked with a smile and a twinkle in her eye. "I'm covering for Stacy. She called in sick," she added, giving him the reason for her presence. "So, what are you doing here?" she asked him. Josh sighed deeply, preparing himself for the unavoidable.

"A situation came up. Expect the phones to start ringing pretty soon. They'll probably be calling regarding Sam, wanting confirmation on him being missing, and ....."

"What?" she exclaimed, cutting him off and jumping from her chair. "What do you mean, missing? What happened?" she exclaimed, shock and fear plastered on her face. Josh put his hand on her shoulder.

"We're not sure of anything yet. He went out sailing and hasn't returned yet and he can't be reached by radio. The news got out to the media. Tell them that there will be a briefing in about an hour," he said, taking a quick glance at his watch. Ginger seemed lost for words, not knowing what to say or do. Her eyes focused on Josh, begging him for more information.

"That's all I know," Josh told her, almost defeatedly, anticipating her question. He wanted to appease her fears, but he didn't even have the strength to appease his own. "CJ and Toby are on their way in. We're going to be in Leo's office. Okay?" he asked, squeezing her shoulder in reassurance. She nodded her head. He gave her an encouraging smile that he was sure wasn't very convincing and made his way out of the bullpen as Ginger brought the 3 other interns up to date on the situation. As he walked down the hall, a phone rang behind him. He walked faster towards Leo's office, not wanting to hear the conversations.

As Josh entered Leo's office, he was hanging up the phone. The Chief of Staff looked up at him with a grimly.

"Mallory," Leo stated, shaking his head sadly. "She wasn't home when I called earlier. I left a message on her machine to call me. She just called me back," said Leo, explaining himself.

"How is she?" asked Josh, as he sat down in the chair opposite Leo.

"Not too good. She really didn't say much and I didn't have much to tell her." Josh saw the guilt in Leo's eyes; guilt for not having more information to appease his daughter. "She's on her way here," Leo added, obviously not very pleased about the outcome of the conversation with his daughter. Josh knew Mallory could be as stubborn as her father and when she made up her mind, that was it. For a few moments, an uncomfortable silence reigned in the office, both Josh and Leo at a loss for words; their concern for Sam weighing heavily on both of them. Josh then handed the information they would require to Leo, who took it and reached for the phone.

"Did you tell the President?" asked Josh.

"No. I was waiting to get more information before telling him. It's bad enough that we're here, worried to death. He's expecting the call?" Leo asked as he dialed. Josh nodded. "I'll put the call on the speaker phone". As the ringing could be heard on the line, Toby came bursting through Leo's office door.

"Any news?" he asked, out of breath.

"We're calling the Coast Guard now," Leo said, pointing towards the phone. Toby nodded, and sat down in the vacant chair beside Josh. Josh glanced at him, and immediately noticed how tense he was.

"US Coast Guard, Lieutenant Brian Harvey," the man announced as he answered. Leo nodded at Josh to take the lead.

"Lieutenant Harvey, this is Josh Lyman, Deputy Chief of Staff of the White House," he said, leaning forward little in his chair.

"Oh, yes, sir. I've been expecting your call. Mr. Adams gave me a few details regarding Mr. Seaborn, but I do have a few questions for you."

"Before that, what can you tell us? Is anyone out there looking for him?" interrupted Leo. Lieutenant Adams didn't respond right away, surprised by the change in voices.

"Lieutenant, you're on speaker phone. Leo McGarry, the Chief of Staff, and Toby Ziegler, Communications Director, are here with me. CJ Cregg, the Press Secretary, should be joining us shortly," Josh informed him.

"Okay. Well, sir, to answer your question, I'm afraid I can't tell you very much unfortunately. We do have a cutter and an helicopter on stand by, ready to go."

"What do you mean, ready to go? They aren't out there looking for him?" exclaimed Toby, jumping from his chair.

"Sir, you must understand that we don't know exactly where he is. Since speaking with Mr. Adams, we have been closely monitoring the radar here and we haven't detecting any signal from his EPIR. Without that, we don't know where to start looking."

"EPIR?" asked Leo.

"Emergency Position Indicating Radiobeacon. It's a distress signal device and as per our registration database, Mr. Seaborn's craft is equipped with one, but it hasn't been activated."

"What could that mean?" asked Josh, not really sure what to say.

"It could mean many things, but taking in consideration the weather, the fact that he is not responding to our radio hails and his cell phone being out of cellular range of shore, we are assuming that he is out there and somehow incapacitated." Upon him saying those words, CJ happened to choose that moment to rush into Leo's office, and stopped dead in her tracks. The 4 members of the senior staff were floored. They were expecting this man to give them good news and here he was, practically telling them that Sam might be lost forever.

"I do need to ask a few questions, Mr. Lyman. I have Mr. Seaborn's beacon registration file here, but I need more information," the Lieutenant said after a few silent seconds, bringing them all back to reality.

"Uhmm, of course."

"Are you familiar with the route that Mr. Seaborn usually navigates?"

"He usually comes out of the Bay and goes out for about 50 miles and comes back. The times I was with him, that's what he did," Josh told him, remembering those now precious moments. CJ approached him and placed her hands on his shoulders. He gently grabbed the one laying on his right shoulder and squeezed it, needing that comforting touch.

"Do you know what time he had planned on returning from his excursion?"

"I would have to say around 5. We were supposed to meet around 8, and the drive from the marina to DC is about 90 minutes long," Josh answered as if on automatic.

"Do you know if he planned on making any stops?"

"He usually doesn't. He just goes out and back."

"And he was alone?"

"I'm pretty sure, yes." Josh flinched slightly at the last question. 'Sam's all alone out there. All alone.' That thought brought his emotions very close to the surface. He squeezed CJ's hand a little harder and she returned the quiet reassurance by squeezing his.

"Okay. This is what we are going to do. I am sending a helicopter out now. It's equipped with radar designed specifically for these situations. It focuses on the craft itself over a large area. I am also sending out a Coast Guard cutter. Taking into consideration the direction and strength of the wind and the time factor, we are going to start the search at a northern point and make out our way south. All this seemed unreal to them all. Listening to this man talk as if they were looking for a lost puppy only made them feel worse. They all knew that Lieutenant Harvey was trying to be as supportive and professional as possible, but it nonetheless left them all with a bad taste in their mouths.

"What are the conditions out there right now?" asked Toby, now standing in front of the window, watching the rain descend on the city.

"They are slowly improving. The storm is presently losing strength and nautical conditions are fair. All in all, it could be a lot worse." This tore Toby from his gazing.

"A lot worse? How much worse can this get? Sam's in the middle of the Atlantic ocean somewhere, not answering his radio, not activating his beacon and probably *incapacitated* and you think this situation could be a lot worse?" he shouted, his anger, frustration and fears all coming to a head. He quickly composed himself and dropped heavily onto the sofa, his hands frantically rubbing face, trying his best to maintain that composure. Leo, Josh and CJ simply looked at him, wishing that they had the courage to vent their emotions as well.

"I'm sorry about that, Lieutenant, but emotions are flying very high here right now," said Leo, maintaining his saddened gaze on Toby.

"That is quite all right, sir. I fully understand. Sir, could I possible have the number of a direct line where I could get in touch with you all."

"Yes, of course. I'll give you mine. It's Leo McGarry speaking by the way. It's 202-456-2020. That is the direct line to my office."

"As soon as I have any information what so ever, Mr. McGarry, I will get in touch with you."

"Lieutenant. One more question. What are the chances of finding him without the beacon? Honestly," Josh asked.

"Mr. Lyman, sir. Honestly, I couldn't say, sir. If I did, I would only be speculating and that wouldn't do us any good," the Coast Guard officer answered, his voice now coated with a touch of sympathy towards them.

"So, basically, what you are doing out there is looking for a needle in a hay stack?" Josh said with a very uneven and cracking voice. The line was silent for a moment.

"Yes, sir. Unfortunately, that would be an accurate description of our task here. Looking for a needle in a hay stack."

To be continued........