The End

by G. Michael Hopf

  Noticing Conner’s glance toward the door, Griswald said, “Mr. President, no one is coming. I gave them all orders to vacate the CP upon our coming into this meeting. I knew what orders you would be giving so I made sure that no one would interrupt us. It appears we were both planning for this confrontation,” Griswald said, grinning. “I know what I am doing; by killing you I can save millions.”

  “You don’t honestly think that killing me will stop us from acting?”

  Griswald didn’t answer. He began to apply pressure to the trigger.

  A gunshot rang out in the room. Conner flinched and looked down at his chest, expecting to see blood but found nothing. Looking back at Griswald he saw him waver, then fall onto the table. His pistol fell from his dying grasp and slid across the table toward Conner, who grabbed it. Conner took aim at Griswald, who lay gasping. Cruz then appeared from behind his chair holding a pistol. He, too, was aiming at Griswald, squirming on the table. When Griswald attempted to speak, blood poured out of his mouth. He grasped the table in an attempt to pull himself up, but Cruz stopped him with one more shot to the head. Griswald shook briefly and then lay motionless, his eyes wide open, with blood pouring out of his mouth.

  Conner looked at Cruz.

  “I have to admit, I never expected that from you.”

  Cruz, still holding the pistol, turned toward Conner and pointed the pistol at him.

  Conner looked stunned as he took a step back.

  Dropping the gun, Cruz said, “Sorry, I’m a bit in shock. I didn’t mean to point it at you.”

  Conner smiled awkwardly. “Mr. Vice President, you scared me for a second.”

  “Mr. President, we have a job to do. Let’s go do it.”

  Conner and Cruz left the briefing room and walked into the command center.

  “Dylan, follow me,” Conner said on the way out of the briefing room.

  Dylan crawled out from underneath the table and cautiously walked around the table, avoiding the bodies.

  “Yes, sir,” Dylan said, clearing his throat.

  “Two things. First, find General Houston, and second, set me up to go on a live broadcast across all frequencies in forty-five minutes.”

  “Okay, Mr. President,” Dylan answered and hurried off.

  Conner turned to Cruz. “Here’s what going to happen just in case something happens to me. Once I am able, I will order a full-scale nuclear attack against those countries I mentioned. Once the attack has started, I will brief the American people the only way we can, and that is via radio.”

  • • •

  The search for Houston was successful; they found his body in Griswald’s closet. While Conner prepared for his speech to the country, the Cheyenne Mountain base commander communicated all the launch coordinates to the nuclear subs around the world.

  The time came for Conner to give his speech. The attack was under way and now was the time to inform his fellow Americans. He wasn’t sure how many would hear his broadcast, but some would, and hopefully the word of their country’s retaliation would spread. Conner felt nervous, not because he had just ordered the total annihilation of several countries but because he was speaking directly to the American people. He had only done this three other times, but this time it was to inform them that he had taken his first major step as President of the United States.

  Dylan smiled from the production booth and gave the president a smile and thumbs-up. Conner nodded and looked at the large microphone. A voice then boomed in the room telling him thirty seconds. He looked down at the quickly crafted speech, thinking that one day this sheet of paper would be in a museum. Drifting into such deep thought he missed his cue. Dylan’s tapping on the glass pulled Conner back to the present. Looking up he saw the red light meaning that the microphone was live.

  “My fellow Americans, this is President Conner. I am addressing you this Christmas night not to express holiday wishes but to inform you that another tragedy has befallen our great country. This morning, the enemies of the United States attacked New York City with a weapon of mass destruction. The information we have received so far is that many of our fellow citizens have paid the ultimate sacrifice and have perished in this heinous and cowardly attack. Today’s attack, along with the initial attacks three weeks ago, has prompted me to finally take action. This decision did not come lightly, but after much thought and prayer I decided that we must finally act. I gave the order an hour ago for a full-scale nuclear retaliation against those who are responsible for the attacks against us. I can now report that our nuclear forces successfully struck targets within the following countries: Iran, Iraq, Syria, Yemen, Somalia, North Korea, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Egypt, Tunisia, and Libya. I believe this action was justified and will prevent these countries from conducting further attacks against us. Let me be clear to those who may be still out there who wish us harm. We will not just bring you to justice, we will destroy you. Do not tread on us! I know the past three weeks have been extremely difficult and your way of life is now different, but I can assure you that we are working tirelessly to get our power grid and infrastructure back on line. In the meantime, we can help support you by food and medical shipments as we get them from our allies. Your government has not forgotten you. So, as this Christmas comes to a close, we must all come together and remember that life is difficult right now but we are Americans and we, like others before us, will persevere through these dark times. We must not lose hope and must not give in. We will make it and we will rebuild, that I promise you.”

  Conner paused for a few seconds, then finished his short statement with the traditional ending of all presidential addresses.

  “May God bless you and may God bless the United States of America.”

  January 3, 2015

  Once we have a war there is only one thing to do. It must be won. For defeat brings worse things than any that can ever happen in war.

  —Ernest Hemingway

  USS Makin Island, Pacific Ocean

  Sebastian just stared at the ceiling of the berthing area. His conscience could not allow him to continue to support Barone and their mission. His patience was running thin with the pace they were taking to get home. It had been over a week since the battle with the USS New Orleans, and nothing new had been reported about conditions back home or their arrival. He was not idle with his time, though; he used it to craft a plan. All of those with family would be allowed to take a day to go find their families and return to the ships or go directly to Camp Pendleton. Barone was also allowing Marines who did not want to continue with them past California to go on their own. This is what Sebastian intended to do, but he wanted more than his rifle, water, and a few MREs. He planned on taking a Hummer with enough food and ammunition to last him months. Sebastian did not know what he’d find upon landing back in California and hoped that Gordon was fine. Not wanting to go it alone, he needed to convince Tomlinson to come with him, but the past few conversations didn’t sound promising. Not one to give up, he thought he would try one last time. As if Tomlinson was reading his mind, he walked up to Sebastian’s bunk.

  “Hey, Corporal.”

  “Hey,” Sebastian said, sitting up in his bunk. “I was just thinking about you.”

  “I hear that all the time, but mainly from the ladies. So what’s up?”

  “Let’s go find a quiet place to have a chat.”

  “A quiet place? Have you turned homo on me?

  “No, I just don’t want to share what I have to tell you with twenty other jarheads!” Sebastian exclaimed.

  “Hey, did you hear the latest?”

  “What?” Sebastian asked while putting on his boots.

  “Apparently we have been sailing around in circles. The coast is only a day out. The colonel has been sending SEALs and MARSOC to probe for landing sites and to make contact with Marine units back at Pendleton.”

  “Really?”

 
; “Yeah, man, we’re close now.”

  “What about the conditions? What’s going on?”

  “It sounds bad—”

  Interrupting Tomlinson, Sebastian asked with urgency in his voice, “How bad? What’s going on?”

  “The recon teams are saying that nothing is working at all except old cars. There’s dead bodies everywhere, wandering bands of starving people, and a Mexican cartel has moved into San Diego with an army.”

  “Really?” Sebastian’s concern grew for Gordon and the family the more Tomlinson talked.

  “Yeah, the shit has really hit the fan back there.”

  “When are we landing?”

  “I don’t know, days I hear.”

  “Days? Why aren’t we going in now?” Sebastian asked, frustrated.

  “I hear ya, but I trust the Colonel.”

  Sebastian shook his head in frustration.

  “So where do you want to go?” Tomlinson asked.

  “Let’s go out to the forward deck.”

  On their way out, Sebastian noticed Gunny having an in-depth conversation with Sergeant Jennings. Gunny looked briefly at them as they left, but Sebastian did not maintain the eye contact. He could not help but to feel that Gunny knew something was going on.

  The chilliness of the air told Sebastian that they were definitely in the eastern Pacific. Tomlinson followed him and lit a cigarette right away. The smoke from his first drag covered the salty smell of the sea air. They made their way around the side of the ship and took a seat on a box out of view of the hatch.

  “So what’s up, Corporal?” Tomlinson asked, then took another long drag.

  “Once we land you know we’ll be able to go find family members. As you know, my plan is to go find my brother and his family. I wanted to know if you wanted to go help me find them.”

  “Of course I’ll help you.”

  Sebastian smiled. He knew that was the easy question; now came the difficult one.

  Before he could ask, Tomlinson asked, “Is that it? You wanted to take me out in the dark and cold to ask me that?”

  Sebastian paused, he did not answer. The darkness masked Tomlinson’s blank stare. Not until he took another drag was Sebastian able to see him waiting patiently for an answer.

  “Here’s what I wanted to discuss with you.”

  Tomlinson took another drag and said, “Go ahead, Corporal.”

  “I’m not going to beat a dead horse but you know I’m not happy about everything.”

  “Wait a minute, Corporal. Did you bring me out here to preach about the same shit? I don’t have time for this, bro, I really don’t,” Tomlinson said, irritated, flicking the cigarette butt over the railing.

  “Hold on, hold on,” Sebastian said urgently.

  “Corporal, I’m willing to help you find your family but I don’t want to go through another lecture about what we’re doing. You know how I feel. If you don’t like it, then leave.”

  “That’s what I’m going to do.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, as soon as we hit the beach, I’m gone. I brought you out here to ask if you wanted to go with me.”

  Tomlinson did not respond. He stood with his arms crossed and thought.

  “I know you don’t agree with everything I’ve said before but I don’t want to keep doing this. Once I find my brother, I’m not coming back. I wanted to know if you wanted to go with me and leave all this shit behind.”

  “I don’t know man, I really don’t know,” Tomlinson finally responded.

  “I know this may not be an easy decision for you, but I could use you. You’re a great Marine and a great sniper and I want you to come with me.”

  “Are you so pissed about what’s happened that you want to bail? We have a good thing here.”

  “No, we don’t. The entire world is turned upside down, we’ve spent the past few weeks doing things that go against the code of conduct we swore to uphold, we have committed treason, we have killed Americans, for God’s sake we have waged war against other Americans!” Sebastian said, raising his voice.

  “We have done what we needed to do!” Tomlinson yelled back.

  “Well, this isn’t what I signed up for!”

  “Corporal, I think you’re making a mistake. Plus, you won’t have anything but a rifle, some water, and a few rations.”

  “Not true—that’s where I need your help. I’m taking a Hummer along with as much food, water, and ammo I can get.”

  “So you’re going to steal from us?” Tomlinson barked.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, but the colonel’s actions are wrong.”

  “Wrong? You’re hilarious.”

  “You can think what you want.”

  “Whatever man, I don’t give a shit what you do. But I am staying right here,” Tomlinson said, pointing toward the deck.

  “Well, I do give a shit!” said a gruff voice from the darkness.

  Sebastian and Tomlinson turned quickly to see who was talking, but it was too dark. Sebastian felt fear enter his body, as he had said things that he wanted no one else to hear. The sound of footsteps grew louder but the darkness still hid the identity until he spoke again.

  “Corporal Van Zandt, you want to abandon your position as a trusted Scout Sniper with our platoon because you don’t agree with how things have gone. You came to me the day we heard about the attacks and complained about our initial mission. Our commanding officer put it all on the line by turning these ships around and heading them in the direction you told me you wanted to go,” the voice said.

  Sebastian now knew who it was. Gunny Smith stepped right in front of Sebastian, so close that Sebastian could smell the smoke on his breath.

  “You think you can just leave with precious equipment and resources? Well, Corporal, I can tell you that’s not going to happen,” Gunny said defiantly.

  “Gunny, let me explain,” Sebastian said desperately.

  “No more explaining. In fact, no more talking from you, Corporal. I heard your entire conversation with Lance Corporal Tomlinson. Apparently he’s also tired of hearing you talk. Here’s what’s going to happen, Corporal: You’re not going anywhere; as of this minute you’re under arrest,” Gunny said. Then, out of the darkness two figures came forward, each grabbing one of Sebastian’s arms. Sebastian attempted to struggle but he soon stopped, knowing the futility of it all. Even if he broke free, where would he go? Defeated, Sebastian dropped his head.

  “Men, take him to the brig. I’ll be down shortly,” Gunny ordered. Just as they were walking him away Gunny stopped them. “Corporal Van Zandt, I knew your brother and you’re not him.”

  Sebastian didn’t have the physical or emotional strength to even respond.

  “Take him below,” Gunny commanded.

  Both men escorted Sebastian from the deck and into an unknown fate.

  San Diego, California

  Gordon’s eyes hurt when he opened them. Finding it hard to focus, he rubbed his eyes. Trying to focus again, he could make out the ceiling in his bedroom. The sharp pain on his left side prohibited his movement initially, but he forced himself to roll over on his right side. The sun was coming through the slits in the plantation shutters. He wasn’t sure what time or what day it was. Managing the pain, he pushed himself up into a sitting position on the bed. Glancing down he looked at the bandages.

  “Damn, I look like a mummy,” he grunted.

  His left shoulder, arm, and side were bandaged, and by the looks of them they were fresh. Everything looked normal around the room. He knew he had been out, but wasn’t sure for how long. The memories he had after the firefight were cloudy and gave no timeframe. Anxious to find Samantha he slid off the bed and stood on his feet. He felt the pain but it was manageable. Taking a few steps, he felt how stiff and sore his body was. He paused and began to walk to
ward the door when it opened. Samantha stood there with folded clothes and a joyful expression on her face at seeing Gordon awake.

  “Gordon! You’re awake!” she said happily, walking over to him. She put her arms around him and hugged him.

  “Hi, sweetie,” Gordon responded. He hugged her with only his right arm.

  “Honey, you need to keep resting, please get back into bed. Where were you going?” Samantha asked, looking at him with concern. She gently pushed him back toward the bed.

  “I’m hungry,” he said, resting back against the pillows.

  “How do you feel?” she said, touching his forehead.

  “Sore, and my wounds are painful,” he said, reaching over and grabbing her arm. “What happened? What day is it?”

  Samantha sat on the bed next to him and took his hand. “Gordon, there’s a lot to tell. You were rescued by a couple of Marines who were on patrol.”

  “Really? What happened?”

  “They heard the gunfire and were close by so they came and helped out. They found you lying on the road and brought you home along with Jimmy.”

  “Jimmy’s okay?”

  “Yes, he’s fine. He’s been quite busy since you’ve been out.”

  “What day is it?” Gordon asked curiously.

  “It’s January third.”

  “What? Are you serious? I’ve been out for over two weeks?”

  “Honey, don’t get excited. You still need to rest. You lost a lot of blood. But it was the infection and high fever that had us concerned. You have been in and out of consciousness since the incident. Today is the first day you’re awake and talking coherently.”

  Gordon calmed himself down and asked, “How are the kids?”

  “They’re great, they’ve been praying for you several times a day. Every day they come in and hold your hand. They’ve been so sweet and, I have to say, supportive.”

  “We have great kids, don’t we?” Gordon stated, smiling at Samantha.