The End (8 page)

Gordon took a few steps away from the counter so he could see the front doors. He saw the manager doing exactly what he had done when Gordon knocked. He didn't say a word, he just pointed at the sign. The person on the other side shrugged his shoulders and walked off. The manager came back and said, “Listen, I don't need any trouble, so follow me to the back and go out that way.”

“I can do that,” Gordon agreed. He followed the manager to the back of the store, through the warehouse, and to an emergency exit. The alarm didn't sound when the manager opened the door, and Gordon quietly navigated his load through the opening.

Gordon shook the manager's hand, jumped on his bike, and pedaled off. The bike was very heavy now, which meant the ride home would be slower than the ride to the store. As he rode, he felt proud of himself for his quick thinking under pressure. He might have just given his family a longer lease on life. The regret he had earlier for his overall lack of preparedness was eased now.

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

The atmosphere of the hotel parking lot was similar to that of the hospital. Scattered throughout, cars sat still with their hoods raised and people meandered, confused. Conner turned into the lot, hastily parked the truck, pulled the keys from the ignition, and jumped out of the cabin. He locked the truck, hoping to provide some security for one of the only operational vehicles around. He noticed everyone in the lot was staring at him and his operational truck.

He ran to the emergency stairs and up to the second floor. He went directly to Dylan's room. Once he reached the room, he furiously rapped on the door until his trusted aide answered.

“I've been trying to reach you,” Dylan said, feeling relieved to be face-to-face with the Speaker.

“Grab what you can, get the two Capitol Police officers and meet me down in the parking lot in five minutes. Please hurry,” Conner ordered, then turned away leaving Dylan standing there bewildered.

Conner darted down the hallway toward his room. He pulled out his key card, hoping it would work despite the power outage. He slid the key into the card slot above the doorknob, but nothing happened. Unsurprised, he took a step backward and kicked the door as hard as he could. The door hardly budged. He gave it another shot; this time, it buckled under the force of his kick and flew open. He bolted inside, grabbed his briefcase and a small piece of luggage, and immediately left.

“Mr. Speaker!” a voice yelled down the darkened hallway.

Conner turned around. He couldn't see anything down the near-black corridor, but he heard footsteps approaching.

“Mr. Speaker!” the voice said again.

“Agent Davis, is that you?” he asked.

“Yes sir, it's me and Jackson.”

From the darkness, two large-statured men wearing suits approached Conner.

“Have you been able to communicate with anyone in Washington?” Conner asked.

“No,” Davis responded

“Nothing, sir,” Jackson answered, shaking his head. “None of our equipment will even power on. We went down to the front desk and everything is down.”

“Listen, go back to your rooms and grab what you will need and meet me out front. I have a working vehicle.”

Both men acknowledged Conner and ran back to their rooms. Conner headed for the stairwell and quickly made it back to the truck. Seeing the truck as he exited the lobby, he breathed a sigh of relief. He tossed his bags in the back and got in. So much had happened in a day. Just yesterday he and Julia were at a charity luncheon in D.C. when they received word that Bobby had been in a near-fatal car accident.

“Mr. Speaker?” Dylan asked, puzzled by the fact that his boss was sitting behind the wheel of an old, beat-up pickup truck.

Conner opened his eyes. “Throw your stuff in the back and get in the cab, but don't get blood on you.”

Dylan obeyed and climbed into the passenger seat nervously after taking notice of the blood on the inside door panel and side of the seat.

“Where did you get the truck?” Dylan asked, looking around inside.

“That is a long story and it doesn't matter. As soon as Davis and Jackson get down here we are heading straight for Tinker Air Force Base.”

“Mr. Speaker, may I ask where your wife is?” Dylan asked hesitantly.

“She's still at the hospital with my son. Once we get to Tinker and I can find out what is going on we'll send someone back to get both of them. The priority now is to see if we can find out what is happening. It seems the entire power grid is down, and I can only assume there's been some type of attack.”

Davis and Jackson suddenly emerged out of the front of the hotel running with their small carry-on bags. They tossed them in the bed of the truck.

“Jump in the back, gentlemen,” Conner yelled.

Davis and Jackson climbed in and Conner sped off. Driving through downtown Oklahoma City was like playing a video game; he was swerving around and narrowly missing stalled, abandoned cars all along West Sheridan and down South Robinson toward Interstate 40.

“Sir, this is really strange. I understand the power being out if someone took down the power grid, but why are all the cars stalled?” Dylan pushed for some information, frustrated by Conner's prior refusal to answer his questions.

Paying close attention to his driving, Conner quickly answered, “There are only two things that could do this type of damage, a nuclear weapon detonated high in the atmosphere or a massive solar flare.”

“A nuclear weapon?”

“I'm not sure what is going on exactly, Dylan, but this is why we need to go to Tinker—to find out.”

The drive to the Air Force base was slowed down by the constant dodging of stalled cars along the interstate. As they drove, the men did encounter a few more operational vehicles; all appeared to be early vintage cars.

Coming off the exit for Tinker Air Force Base, both Conner and Dylan could see movement all around the base. There were moving vehicles, but people were clearly scrambling. As they slowly approached the front gate, several military police pointed their rifles and ordered for them to halt.

“Put your arms up, Dylan,” Conner instructed as he stopped the truck just before the first barriers to the entrance off of the exit ramp. “Davis, Jackson, put your arms up!” Conner yelled.

Both Davis and Jackson complied and held their arms up. A single military policeman approached the truck.

“What is your business here?” the officer asked, pointing his rifle right at Conner.

Conner could see the other two policemen spread apart from one another and take positions with their rifles trained on the truck.

“Airman, I am Speaker of the House Brad Conner. May I reach in my pocket and get my ID?”

Conner slowly put his right hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet, then pulled out his Congressional ID and driver's license and held it out the window.

The MP took a few steps and grabbed the cards. He inspected them both and looked at the Speaker. He then shifted his gaze to Dylan and both men in the bed of the truck.

“Who are the other men, sir?”

“Dylan McLatchy in the cab with me, and in the back are Special Agents Davis and Jackson; they are with the U.S. Capitol Police.”

“Sir, I need all of their IDs as well,” the officer requested.

“Airman, this is the Speaker of the House of Representatives and we need access immediately,” Dylan demanded.

“Hold on, Dylan, let the man do his job and check us out.” Conner knew everyone was on edge and he didn't want to make matters worse by forcing his way in. “Everyone get your IDs and hand them to the airman.”

Dylan and the two special agents did just that. The airman gathered all the IDs, looked at them and then looked at each man; he then stepped away from the truck. “Sir, I need to go back and send someone to HQ as our comm is down; we are not allowing anyone onto base due to the national emergency.”

“Wait a minute, airman, what national emergency?” Conner asked.

“The EMP and nuclear attack sir,” the MP answered, then jogged back to the guard shack.

The MP conferred with his counterpart at the guard shack. The MP who had the IDs kept pointing toward the truck. Finally, he jumped into a jeep and headed into the base.

“Sir, looks like your hunch was right,” Dylan said.

“Yeah,” Conner whispered. He lifted his head and stared outside of the driver's side window.

Ten minutes later, the jeep returned. The MP jumped out accompanied by another man. As the second man approached the truck, Conner could see he was a general.

The general stepped up to the truck and saluted. “Welcome Mr. Speaker, General Daniel Griswald at your service.” He turned to the MP and instructed them to open the gate. “Sir, I apologize for the wait but after what has happened, we are locked down.”

“General I can appreciate that and understand. Please take me somewhere secure so we can be briefed.”

Griswald quickly walked back to the jeep, the MP jumped back in, and they turned around. Conner navigated the barriers and Jersey walls set up at the entrance and followed the jeep.

Conner looked around as they drove down the main road. He could see that even the Air Force base was not immune to the EMP attack.

They reached the headquarters building and quickly exited their respective vehicles. As they walked toward the building, the general made his way over to the Speaker.

“Sir, how is it that you're here in Oklahoma and not in Washington?

“My son was involved in a car accident, so my wife and I came here to be with him.”

“I am sorry to hear the bad personal news, sir. I hope he is doing well,” Griswald said.

Deliberately avoiding the subject of his son, Conner asked, “How much damage does the base have from the EMP?”

“Well, sir, most vehicles and electrical systems as well as the generators are down.”

Griswald continued to explain some of the challenges they were having at the base while he guided Speaker Conner to the secure briefing room. Conner took a seat while Griswald talked to a few other personnel.

“Sir, just another minute, we are waiting on Colonel Jameson with Seventy-second Wing.”

Conner acknowledged with a nod.

A few minutes passed and a burly man walked into the room. Colonel Jameson was short and robust, a contrast to Griswald's tall and lanky figure.

Jameson carried a stack of binders. Other staff came in with a paper map that was attached to an old chalkboard. He walked over to Conner and put out his hand. “Mr. Speaker, Colonel Todd Jameson, pleasure to meet you.”

Conner stood and shook his hand. “Same, Colonel.” He looked to Griswald and said, “General, I don't want to wait any longer. What has happened? I need to know now.” His patience was wearing a bit thin.

“Sir, we are ready and I apologize for any delays. Let me debrief you on what we know so far,” Griswald began, standing at the front of the room in front of the map of the United States.

Conner leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table with his hands clasped.

“At approximately ten-thirteen hundred hours local, a high-altitude electromagnetic pulse device was detonated approximately three-hundred-plus miles above Kansas. The resulting effects from that EMP caused massive and catastrophic damage across the entire national grid. The estimated diameter of the EMP stretched from one coast of the continental United States to the other. From what we can tell now, with the scarce intelligence that we have, is that the EMP burst shutdown the country's entire power grid from the East Coast to the West Coast. Sir, I know you are aware of the last Congressional Report put out about this type of attack and it appears the scenarios and estimates of damage were either incorrect or the device that hit us was huge. Now we believe—”

“What do you mean our estimates were wrong?” Conner interrupted.

“Sir, I know you have heard of a ‘Super EMP,' correct?”

“Yes, General, I have.”

“Well, sir, based upon reports we are getting from the field and from our own experiences so far, this EMP strike took everything out. You are aware that our testing and estimates showed that a standard nuclear detonation high in the atmosphere would have taken out most of the power grid but other damage would not have been universal. This detonation seems to have taken every modern vehicle out, most electrical equipment, et cetera. None of our testing showed damage this widespread. So without truly knowing, we can only assume it was a device designed to emit a greater amount of gamma radiation, or in layman's terms, a Super EMP.”

“How do you know that the grid is down across the nation?”

“Sir, we still have communication with assets across the country using SIPRNet.”

“Sipper what?” Conner asked, confused.

“Sir, it's the DOD's secured Internet and the servers connected to many of them are hardened.”

“Well, thank God for that,” Conner exclaimed. “What are we doing about the power outages? How are we supporting government?”

“Not much right now, sir. Everybody is running around with their heads cut off. It's chaos on all bases. Plus, with what happened back in Washington . . .”

“Let's get to that now, then. What else happened?”

“Ahh, sir,” Griswald replied. He looked at Jameson and then back at Conner and paused.

Conner noticed the glance to the colonel; he looked directly at Griswald and asked firmly, “What is it, General? What else has happened?

“Sir, we have confirmation that there was a second attack. This was a low-yield surface nuclear explosion. The ground zero of the detonation was Washington, D.C.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sir, we have received confirmation. We currently have communications with an E6-B from Naval Air Station Pax River. They have flown over the area and Washington, D.C., has been attacked.” Griswald paused and then finished. “Sir, Washington, D.C., is gone.”