Take that..
To the room he continued, "I'm thinking he may be on to something."
The rear door opened and a Secret Service agent rushed in, hand at his ear. He pushed aside NSA and went straight to the President.
"Mr. President, the rioters have broken through the line just north of us. They're heading towards the White House. We have to get you out of here, sir."
The room erupted into chaos. The Joint Chiefs stood and demanded updates on their respective forces. General Stirling begged to be allowed to bring in local Army units to restore order.
The National Security Advisor and the Secretary of Defense issued orders to some staffers and turned back to await the decision of the President. Would he stay, would he flee? Where would the rest of them go? Surely the rioters were coming straight for the White House. Would they burn it down?
“Alright people, listen up,” said the President in a loud, commanding voice. He put both hands on the conference table. The room fell deathly silent. Everyone watched him.
“From what you’re all telling me, we’ve got a real shitstorm on our hands and its likely to get worse before it gets better. We've got no power to most of the country, riots in the major cities,” He paused, considering his options. He glanced at Suthby and grimaced. "And wildfires threatening the southwest." He looked up and barked, “Al.”
“Yes, Mr. President,” replied Al Masterson, the Secretary of Defense.
“Where’s the military stand?”
“Locked, cocked, and ready to rock, Mr. President. We just need someone to shoot.” That got grins from the Joint Chiefs, who until that point were tight lipped with frustration.
“Sir, I might be able to help on that front…” offered the National Security Advisor, Alicia Grayne. The smooth olive colored skin of her well sculpted forehead creased in a frown. “We have reports coming in that suggest something bigger is brewing in the Middle East.”
“I knew it!” hissed the Chief of the Army, balling his fists.
“Israel is pretty much pissing off everyone in the region with harsh rhetoric. Harsher than usual, that is,” she said after getting some sarcastic looks. “They really kicked it up a notch yesterday afternoon.”
“Alicia, I don’t really care about words right now. Is anyone fighting? Any word about anything coming after us or forces or people?”
“Well…No, sir, not really. There’s, well...we’re still pouring over some intel we picked up recently but so far it’s not even enough for a warrant. However, both the Syrians and the Saudis are massing their troops along their borders close to Israel. Syria claims they are preparing to defend Palestine from an Israeli invasion. The Saudis are saying they just want to protect their borders.”
The President thought for a second, his mind split between the disturbing news at home and the Middle East situation getting out of control. “They know something. There's no way they picked the last 24 hours at random to begin moving armies around. They knew something was coming our way, didn't they?" asked the President.
"We have no knowledge of that, sir," replied NSA.
The President thought for a moment. "Well, for now Israel can take care of itself. What about threats to us?”
"Sir, I need to get you out of here, now," urged the Secret Service agent at his side. The man looked ready to throw the President over his shoulder and storm from the room any moment.
"In a minute, Alex. I promise," said the President. He looked back to the War Room. "Anything else—any other threats on the board?"
“The terrorist attacks seem to be over for the now, sir. We’re not getting anything on future attacks other than some shaky intel gathered from a captured ringleader. It’s sketchy at best. It looks like all they wanted to do was knock out our power. As for outside our borders, we’ve got nothing on the radar yet, but we’re paying close attention to China. There’s a convoy of trucks heading into North Korea—admittedly for humanitarian relief sanctioned by the U.N.” replied NSA. She closed her briefing folder and watched her Commander in Chief.
“In a pig’s eye,” mumbled SecDef sourly.
“That’s pretty much our assessment,” said NSA, with a sly smile.
“When was this convoy authorized?”
The speakerphone in front of the President chirped to life. “Sir, that convoy was authorized back in March. It’s a standard, scheduled delivery of rice, water, and other foodstuffs,” came the detached voice of the Secretary of State from his office across town. “Unless the Chinese knew something was going down—and I find that hard to believe, I think we can safely assume this is totally harmless.”
Something stuck in the back of the President’s mind. Why would the terrorists simply want to knock out our power? Were they expecting us to self destruct? Like the riots? But that’s only affecting the cities…what’s going on here? Maybe Hank’s information is correct. Maybe they want to hit us hard while the lights are out. But can they? He returned his mind to the conversation going on around him.
One of the State Department staffers held up a fax and said to no one in particular, “The U.N. wants to know if there’s anything they can do to help…”
The hairs on the back of the President’s neck began to rise. What does the U.N. have to gain in all this? Do they want to send in a peacekeeping mission or something as if we were the Balkans? That was awful fast. We haven't even got the word out to our own people yet...something's not right about all this.
“Tell ‘em to go to Hell,” barked the Secretary of Defense.
"Al, I'm not about to give those whining ingrates the satisfaction. No, we're perfectly capable of handling this on our own,” was the President's calm response.
The Secretary of State’s voice returned to the speakerphone and replied, “Tell them we’re still evaluating the severity of the situation—that when we have more information, we’ll let them know our position and if there’s anything they can do to assist. Thank them for their concern. Be polite.”
The Secretary of Defense grunted his disapproval. “I like my response better.”
The Commandant of the Marines shared a smile with his Army counterpart. There were a few chuckles around the table as the tension eased a little.
The President tried not to smile as he folded his arms across his chest and turned his back on the room, staring at one of the screens depicting the big three cable news channels. Two were off because there was no power for the media to broadcast and likely no one had power to watch in any event. The last screen had a feed patched in from the BBC.
The reporter was standing in front of a map and gesturing to various cities, explaining the riots. The sound was muted, of course, but it was obvious what he was talking about. At the bottom of the screen scrolled the news ticker. ‘Over 1 million feared injured or killed in Atlanta, Georgia riots, city feared lost…’. The President ground his teeth in impotent rage. Everything was moving too fast. How did the Brits get a hold of numbers that fast when Hank just gave that to me? He looked at Suthby, rustling through his briefcase. That bastard comes in here talking about leaks and I'm willing to bet his department is full of them.
“We’ve lost Atlanta. How do you lose an American city? Torioters? This is…self destruction,” he breathed out the words. Suddenly seized by a fit of anger, he slammed his fist down on the polished table, rattling pens and papers. “This is unacceptable!” There was absolute silence in the room. Everyone looked down or away from the President. It was an awkward few seconds. He had never lost his cool before.
The President physically struggled to control his emotions. Dammit, hold it together man, you are the President of the United States of America. He turned to face his assembled cabinet and straightened his tie. “Hank, I want an update from every governor in the next hour.”
Before the Director of Homeland Security could protest the enormity of the task, given that most of the country was without power, the President held up his hand. “I don’t care. I want that report. If
you have to get in a damned car and drive to every city and ask them yourself, I want that report. Period.” Without waiting for a response, he turned to his National Security Advisor.
“Alicia, I want you to find out who these guys were that hit us. Find out where they came from, who supported them, housed them, helped them. Get CIA involved in this. No in-fighting on this one or I will clean house. Do you understand me?"
"Perfectly clear, sir."
He pointed at the Secretary of Defense. “Al, when Alicia gets you the information you need, I want you to crush the sonsabitches. I don’t care what country they came from or who’s harboring them."
"Sir, I'd advise you to not get too hasty to go on the offensive—" came the voice of SecState from the speakerphone.
The President ignored the voice of reason and continued. “And someone find out why we have race riots going on. Hank's right, something is fishy here and I want to know what the hell it is.” He thought about what Hank Suthby had just told him. “I need a moment with my Cabinet." Instantly the room cleared out of staffers and lower officials. Only Cabinet Level Appointees and department heads remained.
The President stood there, closed his eyes, and prayed for a second as those around him erupted into argument. Opening his eyes and coming to his decision he spoke and the room fell silent. In a way, Hank's suggestion of a combined three prong attack made sense.
And if it makes sense, then it makes sense to take precautions. If these bastards can marshal that kind of operation, they're capable of a lot more. Better that we split the government up. The last thing I need is an assassination attempt right now.
"I’m putting COG into play."
Eyebrows went up around the table. More than one General was obviously pleased. The President recalled that a few of them had wanted to make that same decision yesterday when the attacks occurred. Everyone started talking at once.
“This is not a committee decision!” roared the President. When silence descended on the group, he continued in an official voice. “As of right now, Continuity of Government is in effect. I am going to consider this event to be the most serious threat to our national security since Pearl Harbor. All of you get to your assigned secure locations, we’ll have a conference call at…” he checked his watch, “Four-thirty this afternoon, Eastern. Get going—now!” The President turned to Hank.
“You’re with me.” You better not make me regret this you little weasel. I will crush you, politics be damned.
Secret Service agents, on hearing the code word “COG” leapt into motion, clearing a path and physically escorting the President out of the room. On that order, phone calls were made by a small legion of secretaries all over the country to the highest ranking elected government officials alerting them to scatter from wherever they were and go to their assigned secure hidey-hole.
For the President, that was Cheyenne Mountain, home of the North American Air Defense Command. For the Vice President, it was the underground bunker at Camp David. Others from Congress would be arriving at the old “second government” complex in the hills of West Virginia known as “Greenbrier”. Once prepared for the Kennedy Government during the Cold War, it later became a tourist attraction. Following 9-11 the Federal Government had reinforced Greenbrier, dug even deeper beneath the famous hotel and re-established it as an area where Congress could carry on the governing of the nation should Washington, D.C. be destroyed. It was in effect, a self-contained underground fortress-city. The museum served as the perfect cover.
President Allen knew that after he left the War Room, a Secret Service Agent on each arm, the Joint Chiefs would rush to their designated sites, followed by the other heads of agencies. Everyone suddenly seemed to be talking to staffers or issuing orders via satellite phone. Hank and Daniel were rushed out of the room as well, Daniel to DHS headquarters. On the President's order, Hank would be taken to NORAD. He would ride on Air Force One with the President and the select few of his inner circle. Hank was almost giddy with pride.
“I’ll call you as soon as I arrive!” said Hank across the room to Daniel, already waving acknowledgment and heading for the elevator.
SARASOTA
Bad News
WITHOUT AIR CONDITIONING, the bedroom heated up fast with the morning sun striking the east facing windows. Erik woke early in the morning, a half hour after dawn. Brin loved nothing more than a warm room when she slept, so she stayed in bed.
He stepped out on the porch to cool down and sipped some lukewarm water from their reserves to wake up. The sky was a brilliant blue found only at dawn and dusk. There were no clouds and the sun was a globe of burning amber. The apartment complex was absolutely silent. No one going to work, no construction noise, no cars passing by the main gate, no nothing. The only sounds came from a few gulls, circling above the two ponds surrounded by the nine buildings of the complex.
The land occupied by the apartment complex was encircled by a ten foot high concrete wall—a privacy wall—to protect the sensibilities of the surrounding suburban neighborhoods. Erik was grateful for that wall now…it meant some degree of security for anyone living in the complex.
He walked into the spare bedroom and turned on his emergency radio again. Adjusting the volume so as to not wake Brin, he tuned in to the local AM station, the one he’d listened to the most since the troubles started.
“—recapping the morning alerts, we have confirmed now that the power is out to at least 90 to 95% of the country. Many areas will be without power for the next day or so, as officials say it will take time to get the system powered back up again. Largely unaffected, the nation’s nuclear power plants are simply off. The government assures us that they are largely not damaged. However, they will take days or weeks to restart. It is feared it will be much longer to reconnect to the nation's damaged power grid.
“In the larger cities, civil unrest has broken out. Riots, reported to be based on racial issues, have exploded in New York City, Chicago, Los Angeles and closer to home, in Jacksonville, among many other places. Much of Atlanta is in flames now and it seems likely that the list of dead and wounded will grow by the hour. So far, deaths remain low in other cities, but injuries number in the thousands, as rioters concentrate on looting and destroying property.
"In Chicago, the police and National Guard have been called upon to restore order but the sheer number of rioters and protesters is causing a real problem for law enforcement. Reports have filtered out of the city that the violence is beginning to escalate. Police are trying to implement tear gas and non-lethal bullets to maintain order but an AP reporter has told us that the rioters are tearing down road signs to use as shields. Rocks, bricks, hubcaps, Molotov cocktails and even—as some reports suggest—homemade bombs are being launched in an unending assault on police across the Windy City tonight.
"The chaos is hardly contained, however. The Governor of New York issued a press release stating that New York City is for all intents and purposes, off-limits to any non-residents. She also suggested strongly that any citizens of the Big Apple stay in their homes or apartments for their own safety. Many of the more violent tactics used by the rioters in Chicago have been seen cropping up in New York in the last 12 hours and it is feared that the use of incendiary devices is the root of the supposed destruction of Atlanta. However, until communications can be restored on a more reliable basis, all we have are rumors and reports from other areas. Atlanta, for all intents and purposes, is a black hole at the moment. Reporters and civilians are not allowed within 15 miles of Georgia's largest city.
"There are reports that depict the black smoke that can be seen in three different states. One man, who refused to be identified, stated for a fellow CBS affiliate station that, and I quote, 'It's the closest thing you'll ever see to Hell on earth.'"
Erik sighed and watched a large blue heron wade through the edge of the pond some fifteen feet away from his porch. It just didn’t seem to fit that the country was falling apart around him, yet this majes
tic bird was gracefully stepping through the calm waters, going about his daily quest for food. It was surreal.
“In other news, the power crisis is having far reaching affects, besides the riots—in the west, the Governors of Arizona and Wyoming have declared states of emergency, with California to follow suit today. Further, the Governor of California will reportedly go one step further making the unprecedented move of declaring martial law in Los Angeles and its surrounding counties. Stay tuned to this channel for hourly updates as information arrives.
"On top of everything else, the enormous western wildfires have spread throughout the national forests and grasslands of several states now, fueled in part by the seasonably dry conditions experienced by much of the country, west of the Mississippi River.
“However, the U.S. Forestry Service issued a statement early this morning that these fires cover a much larger area than in previous years. One fire, growing quickly just outside Los Angeles is especially dangerous, authorities in California say. Information is slow to come in about the fires, so keep it tuned to this station for hourly updates.
"Due to the power loss and the nationwide shortage of fuel for refilling our diesel generators, the station management has decided to cooperate with FEMA's national program to keep radio stations on the air. In return for power, we will begin broadcasting on a limited regularly scheduled basis and will give you up-to-the-minute-reports provided by the Federal Government—“
"You mean you're only going to tell us what the government wants us to hear. So this is the end of the freedom of the press," Erik grumbled. He changed frequencies and tuned in to BBC Radio, by way of a relay station outside of Miami.
In clipped British accents, it was reported that the people of the Mother Country were expressing deep sympathy for the United States. However, the Brits, were more concerned about the wave of celebration that was sweeping the Middle East and what that might mean for the future.
Alea Jacta Est: A Novel of the Fall of America (Future History of America Book 1) Page 11