Nevertheless, after pouring through every file I could find on the subject of this desk, I was left empty handed and more confused than anything. I didn't notice the button for several weeks, and by then he was already enjoying the life of a newly retired president. "So you have no idea what it does." I didn't really expect him to know, I was only asking him as a last resort. Something told him that the "fun" was only just beginning. The Commander in Chief looked back towards the trap door. "Happy birthday," a sultry voice crooned, "Mister President." but instead of the standard voice of the operator - another Secret Service agent, of course - he heard instead a recorded message. With a practiced motion, the President raised the receiver to his ear. Somebody has been tasked with making sure that it was set up, and somebody knows what's going on here." He reached for the telephone. "Which means," continued the President, ignoring the interruption, "that the button has been moved from desk to desk with each new election. I don't know if you know this, but each President has the option of choosing his own desk at the start of his term." "That button," he said, more to himself than any of his protectors, "has been hidden in this office for decades. The President - much to the dismay of the agents guarding him - backed away from the emergency exit and stood in the center of the room. "What the hell is going on?"Īs if on cue, a monotonous voice with a thick German accent joined the sounds of the alarm. but it, too, had been covered by an impressive bulk of solid metal. The President allowed himself to be shoved towards a nondescript section of wall, which opened to reveal a secret passageway. The men in suits scurried to various sections of the room, each of them drawing firearms. "Until we know what this is, everyone take up defensive positions!" "Secure the Eagle!" an agent barked, diving for the President. A klaxon suddenly blared from an unseen speaker, and the dark space beyond the trap door - still emptying itself of errant confetti strands - began to flash with a red light. but they were stopped as steel blast doors slammed down in front of the exit. Two of the agents near the back of the group turned to leave. Muffled laughter rippled through the room, and some of the tension abated. "I was testing to see what that button did." "Yes! A test!" The President pointed down at the button. that was just a test."Ī slender eyebrow raised itself above the lens of the agent's dark glasses. The President cleared his throat and shifted his weight. "Mister President," one of the agents finally said, "is everything alright in here?"
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