Go to GridDownConsulting.com for links and more information...
Chapter 1
At the annoying sound of the alarm, Sean fumbled for his cell phone which was uncomfortably placed on the far side of the night stand. As with most mornings, he had to wait for his Android phone to switch from landscape to portrait view before he could hit the snooze button. It would never respond fast enough. To help him get out of bed on time in the mornings, Sean’s wife had programmed the most annoying rooster crowing as his alarm ringtone. Maria...Sean looked over and as usual his beautiful wife was absent from their bed. “Probably in the kitchen, getting a bite to eat,” he thought to himself.
The previous day had been a good one. At their first check-up with the doctor, the Doppler had revealed the wonderful sound of a baby’s heartbeat at a normal one hundred seventy beats per minute. After thirteen years of marriage and three miscarriages, the anxiety leading up to the appointment had been enormous. To hear that rapid thrumming brought immediate tears of joy to Maria. Sean was happy but also nervous. He had always wanted children, but always later. At thirty-three years of age, it was time to stop being selfish over his free time. At the same time, the thought of bringing a child into today’s culture really scared him. The country was swimming in debt and the politicians, Democrats and Republicans alike, were spending our tax dollars like there was no end to the money. Sean felt that massive inflation and interest rates loomed just around the corner. A little further down the redistribution highway than America, Europe was on the brink of total collapse. Factoring in the Arab spring and the threats from radical Islam in the Middle East, it just made Sean nervous as to what kind of world his child would grow up in.
“COCK-A-DOODLE-DO!!!” brought Sean out of his half sleep, half daydream with a piercing sharpness. With a sigh of frustration he fumbled again for the snooze button. “Was that two or three times?” he thought. Fighting off the cocoon of warm blankets beckoning him to stay, Sean slowly stood up.
“Don’t forget your sister is not picking you up today so you’ll have to take your truck.” Maria called from the kitchen.
“Yeah, I remember. Thanks, babe.” Sean replied. Six month before, Sean had helped his little sister Allison get a job with the company he was currently working for as an intern. She had an apartment a few miles down the road and typically they took her car instead of his gas guzzling pickup. She had called the night before and said she was pretty sick and calling off. Since she was calling off on a Friday, she intended to drive up the previous night and spend the weekend at their parents’ home thirty miles north.
Sean sleepily shuffled around his bed and started rifling through his closet. He pulled out a fresh pair of Dockers and dress shirt and quickly got dressed. Growing up on a farm, Sean preferred a good pair of jeans, sweatshirt and some timberland hiking boots, but his new job required business casual. It wasn’t too bad; at least he didn’t have to wear a suit. The worst part about wearing dress clothes was that he couldn’t carry his Glock 19 concealed. He had purchased a Crossbreed Mini Tuck IWP holster for it, but the two black metal clips that stuck out from under the belt were a dead giveaway if you knew what you were looking for. Other than that, it had been the most comfortable holster he had ever owned. He sat down on the bed to put on his shoes and glanced over at the Glock on the nightstand. “I need to get some kind of bug out bag together for work” he said to himself. It would need to be something that would blend into an office environment, unlike the numerous “tactical” bags he had in his basement. He made a mental note to look for one on EBay during his lunch break.
Sean made his way to the bathroom and quickly freshened up. With a final glance in the mirror he turned and made his way into the living room. “Do you want yogurt or cereal this morning?” Maria asked.
“Cereal is fine,” Sean replied as he plopped down on the couch and pulled out his laptop. He scrolled down through the stories on his favorite news website, The Blaze. Over the past year it had amazed him how many stories never made the main street media. It wasn’t so much about the spin, which was always to the far left on most media outlets, it was that they were now intentionally not covering major news stories if they thought it would harm the current administration. Sean read through a story on the President’s newest speech on his Infrastructure and Jobs Bill, or as anyone with a little common sense would call it the Union Job Payback Bill. With only 7% of the nation’s construction companies being union, this bill would mostly help them. It was amazing how the President never mentioned it and the media never asked about that small provision in the bill, or how it would prevent the overwhelming majority of American companies from bidding on the projects.
At the bottom of the story he saw a video clip of his favorite talk show host discussing the speech and pressed play. “Aaaarghh” came the playful sound of disgust from the kitchen. “It’s too early for politics, baby.” Maria came into the living room and set his bowl of cereal on the coffee table. “Turn it off and eat or it’s gonna get soggy and then you won’t eat it.”
“Shhh!” Sean said with a playful grin. “I can’t hear him over your blabbering.”
“Shhh? Did you just shush me, seriously?” Maria responded with mock disgust. Without taking his eyes off the video, Sean couldn’t hide his smile. He knew how much she hated being “shushed” but loved to playfully antagonize her anyway. Suddenly he was being bowled over on the couch. “I’ll give you blabbering, buddy!” They wrestled briefly before his six-foot-four, two hundred forty pound frame pinned her tiny arms behind her, holding her firmly on top of him. “No fair!” she chuckled.
“You know I fight dirty,” Sean replied. “No need to go heels to get the drop on a tub like you,” he said in the best Wyatt Earp impression he could muster. He slowly leaned up and kissed her on the lips.
After a few seconds Maria pulled back and said with a wink, “You keep kissing me like that, cowboy, and I’m gonna make you late for work.” He chuckled and pushed her back up to sit beside him.
Around mouthfuls of Life cereal he asked, “So what’s on your agenda today, Momma?”
“Ahhh, baby. I like the sounds of that... ‘Momma,’” She responded.
“Get used to it, big momma,” Sean replied jokingly.
“Whoa, watch it now, mister. I don’t know about the ‘big’ part,” she threatened with a smile as she reached down to rub her nonexistent baby bump. Sean just laughed and leaned over to plant a milky kiss on her cheek.
“COCK-A-DOODLE-DO!!!” rang the annoying ringtone once more from the bedroom. He jumped up and shuffled back into the bedroom, clicking “dismiss” instead of the snooze button this time. Seeing the time at the top of the phone, he realized he had hit the snooze three times this morning instead of two. He would have to hurry. “Hey, babe. Thanks a lot for the new alarm ringtone, I love it,” he said in his most playful sarcastic voice as he came back into the living room.
“I know you do,” she grinned back.
“I gotta run,” Sean said with a projected sad face.
“Aww honey, do you have to?” Maria asked as she batted her eyelashes and lay back down on the couch.
“You’re killing me,” Sean said reluctantly. “Now get over here and give your man a kiss before he leaves.” She jumped up and ran over to wrap her arms around his neck. At five-foot-two and just over one hundred pounds, she had to go up on her tiptoes and pull his head down to kiss his scruffy cheek.
“You need to trim your beard again. You know I hate it when it starts to grow out.”
“Uh huh” he said, looking around for his jacket. “Have you seen my leather dress coat?”
“It’s hanging on the bedpost right where you left it.”
“Oh yeah,” he replied with a sheepish grin. With a small pang of guilt while heading back to the bedroom, he promised himself for the millionth time that he would do better about picking up his clothes. As he grabbed his coat off the bedpost, he looked down to see the shorts and t-shirt he w
ore to bed last night lying on the floor in front of the closet where he had dressed this morning. An inner struggle took place over picking them up. He chuckled at himself and picked them up, folded them, and put them in his drawer.
“Bravo!” Maria’s voice came from behind him in the doorway. He didn’t realize she had followed him. “See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” She said with a smile.
“Awful...just awful. I think I pulled a muscle,” Sean joked as he walked over and kissed her one last time. “I’m running late, I love you.” He slowly ran his hand over her almost un-noticeable fourteen week baby bump.
Maria’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “I love you too.” Sean playfully pinched her backside and brushed past her.
“I’ll call you on my break,” he said as he made his way to the front door.
“Don’t forget your lunch again!” she hollered out of the bedroom. Sean pulled his hand back from the front doorknob and made his way out through the side kitchen door, grabbing his brown lunch bag out of the refrigerator on the way.
Maria flopped down on the bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin. “We’re finally going to have a baby!” she thought excitedly. She said a quick prayer, thanking God for hearing her prayers after so long and slipped back to sleep, happier than she had been in a very long time.
IT WAS A CHILLY MID-December morning as Sean Marlin made his way around the house from the side door. As he got closer he realized the windows on his 2000 black F-150 had a thick layer of ice. “That sucks!” Sean said, perturbed as he quickly fumbled around under the seat for the ice scraper. He scraped as quickly as possible and a few minutes later was finally driving to work. His fingers were stiff and cold, as was the rest of his body. They obviously didn’t make leather dress coats for warmth.
Driving to and from work was Sean’s least favorite part of the day. Living only twelve miles from work, it still took nearly thirty-five minutes to make the trip. The city of Pittsburgh’s road system was never designed to handle 1.4 million residents. Driving a standard transmission pickup didn’t help either. Clutch, shift, brake...clutch, shift, brake. Growing up on a small farm forty-five minutes north of the ‘Burgh in the little town of Portersville, traffic was never an issue. Even today, people would still wave to those driving the winding country roads. Sean turned his radio to his favorite country station and tried to wish himself back to the farm and a simpler life. Unfortunately, one couldn’t make a living anymore on a hundred acre farm. America’s produce was now delivered hundreds of miles by truckers and rail to the local 24-hr Super Wal-Mart. A small local farmer just couldn’t compete with the massive farms out West that were the size of small towns and employed an army of immigrants that would work for peanuts.
Traffic was slowing in the left lane due to a car trying to make a left turn, and the red Chrysler 300 on twenty-inch rims beside Sean’s pickup punched the gas and nearly took off his front bumper changing lanes. Sean slammed on his brakes. “Idiot!” Sean thought to himself. Sean heard the screeching tires of the car behind him and braced himself, but the sound of crunching metal didn’t come. “Close one,” he muttered. Traffic was rolling along again: Clutch, shift, brake, red light. As the cars came to a stop, Sean saw the young man in front of him with his hat turned back making eye contact in his rearview mirror. He seemed to be looking for a response, but Sean kept his cool and diverted his eye to the left, not taking the young punk’s bait.
A flash of movement caught Sean’s eye in his side view mirror. There was an angry mid-forties man dressed like a shaggy construction worker walking up to his driver side door from the car behind him. Sean slowly unclicked his seatbelt and his hand found an empty space where he normally carried his Glock. After the previous seven years of carrying on a daily basis at his old job, Sean still wasn’t used to being without protection. He felt naked. “Hey, asshole!” the man yelled at his closed window. “Learn how to drive!” Time slowed as Sean’s mind rapidly processed his next move. His peripheral vision never left the man’s waving hands in case they moved to his waist or pockets for a weapon. Sean slowly moved his left hand to the door handle and he gathered his strength, ready to bash the man with the door if he made any threatening moves. “That’s right tough guy, open your door and see what happens,” the man dared him. Traffic started moving and Sean slowly let out the clutch leaving the man standing in the middle of the street during rush hour traffic.
“What the hell? What is this world coming to?!” Sean could feel the blood coursing through his veins with adrenaline. It quickly turned to anger and he felt like pulling over and flagging the idiot down. Sean had no doubt that he could easily beat the older man to a pulp. It was tempting, but he resisted the urge. Inevitably, Sean knew it would make the six o’clock news with him being portrayed as the aggressor. There would be no witnesses to the previous incident. In fact, he could see the headline now: “Angry Tea Party member beats elderly black man in a fit of road rage, shutting down Rt. 51.” There would be a picture right next to it showing his pickup with the “Don’t tread on me” sticker on his back windshield. In fact, that might even make it on MSNBC. The fact that he wasn’t even part of the Tea Party wouldn’t matter as long as the narrative worked.
Forcing down his anger, Sean turned the radio back up and Hank Williams, Jr. was singing one of his favorite songs, “A Country Boy Can Survive.” Sean couldn’t carry a tune to save his life but he let loose and sang at the top of his lungs. As the song ended and some cowgirl started whining about her long lost love, Sean turned the radio off and just zoned out on the tail lights in front of him.
His anger was gone and he started missing the farm again. It was hard living in the big city. A year ago he lost his drive-thru coffee shop due to some bureaucrat that picked his road to replace all the bridges. Two years before they hired a union contractor to replace a twenty-foot bridge just up the road from his shop. Two years of milking the prevailing wage and it still wasn’t done. Last year when they blocked the road off completely to start replacing a different bridge, the customers stopped travelling that road to work. Their business relied on morning commuter traffic and what used to be a heavily travelled thoroughfare into downtown Pittsburgh was now vacant of cars.
The coffee shop, which had been successful the first six years, was Maria’s dream. She battled depression for months and nearly had a complete mental breakdown when they had to sell it for no profit. Six years of endless work up in smoke. It had been by far the toughest year of their life. Sean had worked side jobs in the afternoon to offset their lost income but it wasn’t enough. By the time it was over they were in debt up to their necks with no light at the end of the tunnel. Maria had gone from her usual one hundred and twenty pounds down to eighty-five over the course of the year. Sean had feared for her life and was very glad when she was agreed to get out of town and visit her family in Oregon. She stayed there for almost two months getting much needed R&R and her will to live back. It was a dark and lonely time for them both being separated for that long. As Sean made the final turn towards work, he fought back the lump in his throat thinking over those dark days.
As one door closes, another shall open. Originally a customer at the coffee shop and daily morning commute buddy, Gerald Doyle had become close friends with Sean and Maria. Gerald, the Vice President of a large Software company called Speednet, had hired Sean to remodel a bathroom and some other work around his house when Sean needed the money. And on occasion when Gerald would need to use Sean’s truck to haul something, he would let them take his silver Mercedes SL500 convertible for the weekend. Sean and Maria would put the top down and go cruising. Maria would always try and find an excuse to keep the car one more day and Gerald was always gracious.
When Sean and Maria finally sold their business, they had accumulated almost forty thousand in debt. With no idea how they would make their bills, it would have been easy to slip into despair. Instead they prayed and asked God to open a door for them. Over the previous toug
h years, they had become more involved in their church and knew that even in their darkest hour God would always provide. The following morning Gerald called on his way to work and asked why the coffee shop was closed. Sean explained how they couldn’t keep the doors open any longer with the limited traffic. Gerald graciously assured Sean that he could find some projects around his house until Sean could find steady work.
Sean and Maria prayed again that evening, thanking the Lord for answering their prayers. When he called Gerald that night to discuss the following day’s work, Gerald had some amazing news. He had opened up a new position for Sean. Within a week, Sean was making more money than he had owning his own business and it included full benefits which they hadn’t had in ten years. More importantly, Sean thoroughly enjoyed his new job. Overnight, Sean and Maria’s life had gone from despair to hope for the future. A year later, with the business sold and a baby on the way, they were starting a whole new chapter in their life.
Sean made a final turn into the parking lot that housed the four-story building with Speednet occupying the whole third floor. He quickly parked his truck and took the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator, sitting down at his desk with one minute to spare.
Chapter 2
Captain Ashby watched through binoculars from the deck of his Coast Guard Cutter as his men were just reaching the base of the large container vessel out of Dubai named Al Qibla. Six hours before, the Coast Guard had been notified that a crew member aboard the container ship had acquired a satellite phone and made a distress call that the vessel had been overrun by terrorists. He had very limited knowledge or details because the young man was hiding below deck in a storage closet. He said he was just a maintenance man and couldn’t provide any information on how many terrorists were on board or what type of weapons they were carrying. All he knew was that he heard “machine guns” and stumbled across a few of his mates, dead, before hiding. He figured, based on how long they had been at sea, the ship must be near its destination, Houston.
EMP Page 2