Authors: Arthur Bradley
“Madam President, our enemies largely remain the same—only their capabilities are diminished. Russia was devastated and is in a situation as tenuous as our own. St. Petersburg is the only city that remains even under partial government control. It is not expected that the current communist authority will remain in power for much longer. As for China, every major city is now uninhabited, except for the infected survivors of the virus. The rural areas fared a little better, mainly because the residents had less exposure. Our best guess is that, in time, the farmers will once again rise up and take control of their country.”
“And their nuclear arsenals? Are they secure?”
“To be honest, we don’t know. We have very little insight into either country at this point. What I can say is that we haven’t seen any military action that could be considered threatening. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean that a launch, accidental or otherwise, could not occur. With that said, experts have assessed the threat as being unlikely.”
“Unlikely that we’ll all die in a nuclear fireball?” she said. “That’s not very reassuring.”
“No, it isn’t, but you indicated that you wanted an open and honest discussion. It’s what we know at this point.”
She nodded. “Yes, I’m sorry. Please go on, General.”
“Not much remains of the so-called Axis of Evil. Iran’s population and infrastructures were decimated, including its military. A few ruling clerics remain, but their previous anti-American rhetoric has been toned down as they look for allies to help them recover.”
“They’re looking to the US to provide relief?” she said with a tone of incredulity.
“Everyone is looking for help, ma’am. Iran is just one of many.”
“And North Korea?”
“North Korea collapsed from within. Its leaders were summarily executed, and the country is now in the hands of what remains of their military. Again, the rural nature of the country spared many of the farmers, but most will likely starve before the year is out. Experts are suggesting that South Korea will be invited in to help stabilize and unify the peninsula.”
“That sounds positive. And China won’t oppose this?”
“With an estimated one billion people dead in China alone, they simply don’t have the means to take an offensive position against anyone.”
“A billion people? Could that be right?”
He shrugged. “It’s an educated guess but probably not far off the mark.”
“My God,” she whispered.
“Military threats are not our only concern,” said Tom Pinker, the Secretary of Homeland Security. Pinker was a serious man who seemed more suited to running a spy agency than serving in a cabinet position. He was small in stature, barely five feet tall, but he had a commanding voice and knack for sifting fact from bullshit.
“Go on,” she said.
“Our border with Mexico is now essentially unguarded, and there are thousands of illegals crossing over every day.”
“Why? Surely, the promise of a better life has lost some of its luster, given the condition of our country.”
“As bad as it is here, it’s far worse in Mexico. Drug cartels now run the country, and survivors are being brutalized in every possible way. The biggest problem for us is not the influx of illegals but the actions of the cartels. They have already taken control of several US border towns, and before long, they will look to extend their reach.”
“And can we stop them?”
He shrugged. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether we continue to take a defensive posture or adopt one that is more aggressive.”
She was unsure of exactly what he was implying.
“Spell it out for me, Tom.”
Pinker cleared his throat.
“Vice President Pike and I were discussing the matter yesterday. He believes, and I agree, that we should consider striking the major cartels as a deterrent to future aggressions.”
“In other words, you want to hit them first?”
“Yes, ma’am. Even with our diminished military, we could conduct operations that would greatly hamper their ability to disrupt the United States. It would all be very low risk to our remaining forces. Tomahawk missiles and air strikes could do what was needed.”
“Attacking citizens of another country could be construed as an act of war.”
“I think we’re past that, Madam President. Mexico is essentially without a government at the moment.”
She turned to General Carr.
“General, what do you think of a preemptive attack on Mexico’s cartels?”
“This is the first I’ve heard of it,” he said, obviously irritated by not being included in the discussion with Vice President Pike. “However, I wouldn’t dismiss it out of hand. Our country has enough to worry about without drug cartels moving in.”
She nodded. “Okay, we’ll take that up with the generals. What else, Tom?”
“The situation on the northern border is very different. Canada wasn’t hit as hard as the US, and we’ve already received formal complaints that many of our residents are crossing over in search of food and emergency supplies.”
“Does that strike anyone else as ironic?” she asked. “Immigrants are rushing in from the south while our citizens are fleeing to the north?” She didn’t wait for an answer, waving away the question. “It doesn’t matter. The Canadians will have to deal with it for now. We’re not going to put what few resources remain toward keeping people from leaving the country.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, jotting something down on a pad.
“How are we doing inside the borders?” she asked. “Are we still being plagued by infighting?”
“We are, but Jack might be better able to answer that.” Pinker turned to Jack Fry, the Director of the Federal Emergency Management Agency.
President Glass had known Jack for longer than any of the other men, and she considered him a close friend. Shortly after she took office, he had been involved in an auto accident that left him paralyzed from the waist down and confined to a wheelchair. Despite his injuries, he had not lost his almost grandfatherly way of dealing with those around him.
“Jack?” she said.
He smiled warmly at her.
“Ma’am, I’m afraid that it’s gone from bad to just plain awful. Violence and lawlessness are spreading to every corner of the country. Of course, we’re still trying to get supplies out, but given that they now require full military escort, we’ve had to greatly reduce the number of relief convoys.”
“What about air drops? Can’t we drop food and supplies using cargo planes?”
“General Carr and I have been working on that,” he said, gesturing to the general. “The problem is one of putting supplies in the hands of law-abiding citizens and not violent militias. Also, there are obvious issues with the availability of planes, fuel, and crew. But challenges aside, we will begin a campaign of air-dropping supplies in the coming weeks.”
“But that’s not going to be enough, is it?” she said. It was more of a statement than a question.
“No, ma’am, it won’t be nearly enough.”
“Which means that people will continue to resort to taking what they need.”
He nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
She turned back to General Carr.
“How are we with clearing a few major cities? Places where we can provide security and supplies for those who remain.”
He opened one of his folders and removed a map. On it were symbols denoting different military units. There were surprisingly few of them.
“We’ve begun moving forces to establish supply routes,” he said, moving his finger across the map. “Our plan is to start with three cities: Denver, Norfolk, and Olympia.”
“Why those cities?”
“Norfolk and Olympia provide port access, and Denver is centrally located. All three are small enough to be cleared in a reasonable time frame. A city like Los Angeles or New York would be years in the making.”
“All right,” she said. “And how long do you think it will take to clear these three cities?”
“That’s tough to say for certain. We have two issues to deal with. The first is handling the infected survivors, some of whom are more cooperative than others.”
She raised an eyebrow at him.
“Tell me you’re not planning to just go in and kill them all.”
“No, ma’am. Those who have devolved will be put down. The rest will be registered and allowed to stay on.”
“Registered?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s the only way to monitor their health.”
“You want to make sure they don’t go crazy.”
He nodded. “That’s right.”
“What else must be done besides dealing with the infected? I imagine getting the bodies out will be a nightmare.”
“Indeed. Massive cleanup teams will come in behind the combat force to get rid of the bodies.”
“How exactly?”
“We’re planning to use mobile incinerators.”
“We can’t bury them?”
He shook his head.
“Okay, she said. “So, I’ll ask again—how long will it take to clear the three cities?”
“Our best guess is four months.”
“That long?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s important that we get them cleared before winter arrives. But understand that four months refers only to the time to clear the city and ensure that they are habitable.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that they will no longer function as modern cities.”
“Go on.”
“We’ll have to ration food, water, and fuel. Beyond that, these new colonies, for lack of a better term, will function like huge bazaars in which people must trade goods and services.”
“You’re telling me that, in many ways, these people will still be on their own.”
He nodded. “That’s right. Life won’t be easy, but it should be better than it is now.”
“Will they have electricity?”
“No, ma’am. That’s still some time off.”
She shook her head, clearly disappointed.
“And this is the best we can do?”
He gave her an understanding smile.
“We’ll try to do better.”
“If I’m hearing you correctly, even if this operation is successful, the entire United States will be reduced to a few colonies. What about the rest of the country?”
“It will remain much like it is today.”
“Lawless, in other words.”
“While some of the country is indeed lawless,” interjected Jack, “other parts are being taken over by militias, warlords, cartels, and religious cults.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better, Jack.”
“No, ma’am.”
She sat quietly for a moment, thinking.
“It’s going to take some time. That’s what you’re all really telling me, isn’t it?”
All three men nodded.
General Carr added, “In a way, we’re like the early Roman Empire, hoping to spread our influence across a violent continent. And you know what they say...”
She smirked. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
Vice President Pike could almost feel Yumi Tanaka’s naked breasts pressing against his back, her sharp fingernails digging into his shoulders. She had left more than two hours earlier, sneaking away when there was little chance of her being discovered, but the perfumed smell of her body had not yet left his bed.
Their relationship continued to deepen, which was both comforting and troubling to him. On the surface, it was driven by a nearly insatiable desire, but hidden beneath were undeniable feelings. He found it odd that they never spoke of such things, but he thought he knew why. For one thing, he was much older than Yumi, and both surely recognized the fleeting nature of their relationship. Also, the truth was that he didn’t want to love Yumi, nor, he suspected, did she want to love him. They were both users in every sense of the word. But somewhere along the way, and purely by accident, their souls had brushed a little too closely, and a bond had been formed. So fight it or not, every time she stepped into the room, he felt his stomach tighten and his heart skip a beat. He accepted that it was childish and stupid, but also completely out of his control.
Even the memory of Yumi’s touch, however, was not enough to relieve Pike’s worry. He tossed and turned, struggling to clear his mind. Insomnia was the first of many physiological symptoms that he experienced when plans went awry. And things had definitely gone awry. Problems had plagued him from the very beginning. The kidnapping of the President’s daughter, Samantha, had gone terribly wrong when her bodyguard threatened to expose their plan. The subsequent air attack was botched, and the girl not only walked away, but managed to find a traveling companion who rivaled Spartacus.
Agent Sparks, one of General Hood’s most trusted men, was still looking for the girl. Once he managed to pick back up her embedded transponder signal, he should be able to make short work of the problem. But he had already missed her twice. Who was to say that she wouldn’t elude him a third time—or a fourth? Samantha was wily if nothing else.
Then there was the attack on Glynco. According to General Hood, that was the only operation that had gone off without a hitch. The marshals had been easily dispatched and the weapons seized. Within hours, the rifles should be arriving in Lexington and delivered to Lenny Bruce, a zealot who was building his own version of a utopian society, known as Fresh Start.