Mason stood as well. Nodded. The two men shook on it.
25/09/2047 14:00
The cavalcade of heavily armored cars, they'd been nicknamed "beasts" since the turn of the century, sped down the George Washington Parkway after Charlotte had attended a VA fundraising luncheon in support of Arlington Cemetery. A routine random-choice generator assigned the first lady, Charlotte Gwinnett, to the second of five identical vehicles.
Not that this mattered to her at all. Particularly now she was on the secure QuellCorps comm system with George. "You tell Mr. Hagin that he should take me off whatever speaking schedule his fantasy world has invented. I've done it twice now. First and last. You listen to me, George, this isn't negotiable. This is your gig, not mine. Yours and his. Am I clear? I do not like this political stuff. Never did, never will. I don't mind helping out with some things but giving public speeches isn't going to happen again. Am I clear of this?"
"Sweetie, You are loud and clear. You're melting my phone it's so clear. What happened?"
"Don't you sweetie me. I'll tell you when I get home. But now, you just get on that executive phone of yours and ..."
George heard an explosion, screeching tires, and the roar of a powerful engine revving up.
"Charlotte! Charlotte!" A long ten seconds passed. All George heard was a powerful engine spooling up, and confused background chatter behind the static and bumping of bodies in close contact.
"George, I'm OK but someone just blew up the car ahead of us. I'm fine. We're headed back. Fast. Jones has me lying down on the seat face down and she's lying on top of me. Not a pretty picture. She won't get off. Now she's trying to take the phone. What..."
"Mr. President. Agent Jones. Your wife is safe and we're inbound. Fast. Security is notified. Going dark now."
The call ended.
25/09/2047 14:05
"Jack. Now. High." said George.
This three-word phrase triggered alarms in every White House system and Hagin received multiple alerts. Without waiting for further instructions, he stood, and said, "Updates." A stream of message headlines scrolled down his eye feeds. "Stop." There were too many in the queue to scroll. "Updates. Critical Priority One." There were two showing and Jack knew which to deal with.
"Update. Status Flannery." The command opened a channel to a Duty Officer.
"Flannery attacked, alive, uninjured, three cars in convoy disabled by multiple rocket fire from nearby buildings, Flannery vehicle not hit and en route to White House. Emergency protocol #2-Survival now in place. No reports on casualties," reported the Officer.
"Attackers?" asked Hagin.
"Unknown at present. First responders not yet at scene but en route."
"Air?" asked Hagin
"Yes, Sir. They were in place. Attackers in building evaded routine countermeasures indicating knowledge of same. One copter down and disabled from rocket fire, other two are still in place over Flannery's vehicle. Two surviving copters returned fire into building. Casualties there unknown but firing on Flannery stopped. Three of our vehicles destroyed, status of personnel unknown."
"Flannery location?" asked Hagin.
"She's 5-minutes out, all traffic stopped en route. She's in the number 2 vehicle, Sir. The other is clearing the way."
Hagen hadn't moved during the brief report but now turned towards the door of the meeting room. Which opened, as if by his thought, by a Secret Service Agent who was obviously looking for him. Jack waved him off before he could speak and started for the door. The agent held it open for him and then fell into step behind him as they marched to the Oval Office.
"Has a chip scan been ordered?" asked Hagin.
"Yes, Sir. I see it's being implemented. We should have an identity pattern soon of all those service personnel in the area."
Hagin opened the Oval Office door without knocking and as George started to open his mouth, he held up his hand to stop him.
"Update on whereabouts of Flannery," said Hagin.
"3-minutes out and coming fast. Traffic is fully stopped. Police are now deploying extra security," replied the Duty Officer.
Hagin turned to George asking, "Did you get all of that?"
George nodded. "I'm on my way to the Security entrance."
"The networks will..." Hagin stopped.
The look on George's face wasn't presidential or corporate. Jack looked directly into the eyes of an unchained predator and he nodded acknowledgment. "You're right. Get to that door, she's going to want to see you too."
After George rushed out, Hagin took a few seconds to sort out his reaction to his boss. That was the real man. The man he'd been working with, the reasonable man he thought he knew, was a front. If eyes are the mirrors into the soul, I'd sure as hell want to stay out of his gun sights.
25/09/2047 16:00
George looked down the cabinet table at the assembled group and decided he was happy his stomach was cast iron. Otherwise, the butterflies struggling around in there would have escaped and rendered him pretty much useless. He'd survived every adventure, including battle, to this point, and he would survive the most important meeting of his Presidency. George smiled and thought, well at least this is the first one, and who knows what other crap is coming next. He reminded himself of his jump instructor who often repeated the mantra, "Getting to the door is hard, stepping through the door is the hardest, but the fall is the easiest damn thing you'll ever do."
His cabinet assembled around the table. While a few knew what was coming, most did not. The fewer leaks at this stage the better. He took a breath, and thought "stepping through the door."
"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for your time here today." George understood not one of them would miss this meeting. Two flew back from California and Oregon just to attend. It seems there was still an active rumor mill out there and he smiled, accepting this as a standard operating hazard. How naive of him to assume otherwise. These were old pros and not newbies as he was; they'd be far better plugged in. At this, George realized he needed to talk to Hagin about internal security and tighten it up.
"We have a long agenda this afternoon and I'm pleased y'all could all make it." He nodded to the two who'd flown in. "First, thank you for your notes about Charlotte. I appreciate them all and I know she does. She's fine. And so are all the personnel in the other vehicles. The machines were destroyed, but they did their job protecting our people. And other than a few broken bones, all agents are fine. And I know you'll understand when I tell you we've cancelled Charlotte's public schedule for the foreseeable future." He hesitated and then began again.
"To business. Yours and mine. I've been examining the budget, and it's fascinating bed-side reading I can tell you." The group smiled in the way people do when somebody in power cracks a joke - with their mouths and not their eyes. A president investigating their budgets was never good news no matter how he described it. George continued but addressed the Secretary of Defense.
"Mr. Wells, you own the largest damn piece of this money pie, and as you can appreciate, you're a big, fat, target for an ex-services and currently-out-of-work CEO of a para-military organization." George paused, nodded at the acknowledgment from the Secretary who understood what was coming. As an old pro, the Secretary had tentacles into every part of the government and this alone made both fearsome and a powerful friend or enemy depending on which side of the fence he landed. George knew this and had prepared as soft a landing as possible for him but still, the upcoming fight might be bitter.
"Here's my thinking. Our satellites now control space. We intend to purge competing satellites and control the high ground. The planning for this has already been done by the Forces. If we control space, we can prevent further encroachment and development of any weapons system that could take out our satellites. We see something we're not sure of and we burn it, or its launch site. Space is, as the old show said, "the final frontier" and it's ours. I'm staking my presidency on this."
The group nodded approvingly and George
smiled. What else could they do but agree? But he had a surprise in store for them in the next few minutes.
"I am therefore making unilateral cuts to the defense budget. The role of the Air Force is greatly improved by satellite-weapons systems and the advanced drones it has developed. The satellites and drone research will continue and will absorb additional funding. Bombers, fighters and all other activities are now surplus to our needs and will be deactivated.
The Navy is irrelevant because we no longer need to defend our shores by force. Our lasers can reach the sea bottom with the new focusing systems and no sub or surface vessel can go anywhere without us being able to track and attack it. We can also defend any missile attack from them with no problems. What we do require are advanced Coast Guard services for individual cases of concern and search and rescue operations. While I'd like to let any fool who gets caught out in a storm to his or her own devices, I'm told a rather large number of your supporters are members of yacht clubs. So let's keep the money alive shall we?"
George said the last with a straight face and as a joke, but most of the cabinet smiled and agreed with him as if he were serious. What a damned system he thought.
"We will mothball the fleet except for any additional coast guard needs." The looks around the cabinet table were grim and focused on his face as he made the announcement. They understood there were to be changes, but these were beyond what anybody had considered. George took a deep breath and decided he'd explain a bit for them to make the next cut easier to understand.
"Our problem in military doctrine is that as technology advances, our planning doesn't advance along with it. Consider the Revolutionary War for a moment. The Generals assumed the only way to take an enemy position was to line their troops up and send them all charging in a long line across the field. The muskets of the day were not made with rifling - the spiralling of lines inside the barrels to spin the bullets - so the musket balls tumbled out and spun like baseballs curving around. They were out of control after they left the barrel. Aiming and hitting anything over 30-feet away was luck and not skill. Add to this the natural reluctance of humans to kill other humans and war was inefficient.
But then two weapon developments happened about the time of the War Between the States. Rifles were reinvented with the barrels rifled and the bullet shape changed. Bullets left with precision and the ability to hit specific targets improved with devastating results. And second, the Gatling Gun appeared. This first machine gun fired between 2,000 to 6,000 bullets per minute with precision. But even with this firepower coming at them, the generals still had their troops make a line and charge directly into that wall of lead. Even with our natural reluctance to kill intact, troops were slaughtered at a higher rate than on any other war before or since.
So what we now possess is another huge change in firepower. We can now strike any 6-inch square section of earth from space. Burn a hole right through it. We can reach down into buildings, and laser through any number of floors to hit any target we need to strike. We can also do this to any vehicle no matter how fast it's moving. Think about it for a moment. If you can hit anything, anywhere, and kill it from space, then why do we need old fashioned Gatling Guns mounted on jets to attack our enemies?"
The group was silent. Even his Secretary of Defense had no answer to this. George met his eyes and knew what Wells would ask next.
"What about the army?"
"We'll still require services at home and we have a reduced but efficient National Guard for that. Emergencies at home are well within the Guards ability and they can fly choppers and provide peacetime security. For anything else, we'll use lasers and our rapid-strike QuellCorp forces. Our privatization plan gives us a large tactical force if we need it. But we shouldn't need to put boots on the ground anywhere in the world if we take control from space.
And frankly, we haven't any money to fund all those boots even if we wanted to. That's the damn basic truth around here. The U.S. is broke and we need to pull in our horns. There's not enough money to pay for emergency food to keep Americans alive and we want a huge damned military? It makes little sense as a business and it sure as hell doesn't make sense as a country. So we'll fund a small strike-force at QuellCorp and we'll save a massive chunk of money by making the cuts."
George ended his brief rant as quickly as it began. He'd said his piece, and the logic was inescapable. Savings had to come from somewhere and the forces were the plumpest, fattest target around.
"There's going to be a lot of screaming about this." This came from his Treasury Secretary and George smiled.
"Let them scream. They can have a country or they can have a carcass to pick over. And we're one damn thin bird at the moment so let's make a country again." There were a few nods around the table at this response.
"What about the satellite capacity of everybody else? What about the damned Chinese? They will be pissed and won't allow us to do this." This came from the Secretary of the Environment.
George glanced at his watch and the message that had arrived fifteen-seconds ago. "Too late to worry. When we started this meeting I had our satellites attack first. I have confirmation here all other satellites with any military function, owned fully or partially by any other country or corporation other than the U.S. military have been destroyed by our space laser and anti-satellite capacity.
Ladies and Gentlemen, the United States of America owns space. All missile systems are destroyed. Yes, worldwide, and yes, allies and opponents alike." He answered the question before it was asked. "We're currently downgrading all other countries' capacities for military activity of any kind although this will take more than a few minutes to hunt and kill all weapons systems and weapons researchers. We will be the only country with any military capacity."
"You did what!"
"Relax, Mr. Wells, there are things best done under martial law and this was one of them. I had the QuellCorp tech staff run the software scenarios and make all the adjustments. When we had access to the lasers, our tech team tied them to our advanced situation analysis software and set it all up. Mr. Secretary, I note your battle-analytics were badly out of date. It's a done deal."
"You could have had us all killed, we could be at war right now," Wells yelled. His face turned a bright shade of red.
"Woulda, coulda, shoulda," replied George. "Never did pay attention to any of those words and neither does my team. It's done. Deal with it. There's another week left in my martial law powers and in three weeks, I've set the world situation on course so the United States has a chance of survival. And that's the story the press is currently getting upstairs and the information flow is already in place. And for the record, how long have you and defense worked on conventional strength and how much money was spent? I'll take your resignation now, and if the next President wants to give it back, it'll be up to him."
"You can't do this, even with martial law you can't do this," said Wells standing up and shaking his fist at George.
"Done. Signed and sealed done. Have your letter on my desk within an hour and we'll do this nicely or I'll fire you publicly for incompetence. Your call. But when the news gets out about how safe we are and how the U.S. is back in charge along with who did it, who do you think will be the hero here?"
George didn't change his expression as he watched the reality of the situation settle into Secretary Wells' thinking. George's face had stared across both battlefields and board rooms and it was always the same non-expressive, totally neutral poker face. His corporate enemies, and there weren't many of those left, respected that face but it was the first time the cabinet had seen it and they weren't quite sure how to respond.
The Secretary figured it out. This neutral look was really a last-chance look. It told him the issue was settled and the sole remaining option was on the table.
George saw the resignation and awareness as Wells met his eyes, stood to attention, and nodded. "It will be on your desk, Mr. President. It's been an honor to serve this country for over
30-years."
"Thank you, Mr. Secretary," said George standing up and offering his hand. "I hope we can work together in the near future on another project I have in mind. May I call you?" George knew this canny old politician still wielded considerable influence and by bringing him onboard he'd keep those resources and influences neutral, or if not neutral then at least observable.
"Thank you, Mr. President. I'll look forward to chatting."
George turned to the table. "Gentlemen, I think this concludes our meeting today. I know you have work to do and networks to tweak, so don't let me hold you any further." He turned and led by two Secret Service agents and trailed by another two, he returned to his office.
26/09/2047 09:00
"In an interesting political move today, President Barrett announced the United States will close many of its overseas bases. Bases in Asia and Europe will be closed, and all troops returned home and either reassigned or given an honorable discharge with benefits. The White House announced one million four-hundred and fifty thousand troops will return home within the next six to eight weeks.
President Barrett said it was time for the rest of the world to take responsibility for its own problems and he and the American people are tired of sending men and women to die for those countries' mistakes. He also announced a series of programs that will be developed to ease the transition from the Forces to civilian life for this country's brave troops."
He refused to comment on the assassination attempt on First Lady Gwinnett, saying it was a security matter and would be dealt with in its own time."
This is Ed Gordon for ZeeVid news."
26/09/2047 13:00
2047: Hell In A Handbasket Page 22