by P. A. Glaspy
Charles was walking up as the tirade ended. He gave a nod to Agent Warren who turned and opened the door. Olstein was standing in the opening, eyes wild with rage.
“You wanted to see me, Barton?” he said calmly. Looking around the mess, he added, “Love what you’ve done with the place, but you might want to rethink destroying everything. We won’t be able to replace furnishings like these for years.”
“I demand you release me immediately! You can’t do this! It’s against the Constitution!”
Charles laughed out loud. “Since when do you give a rat’s ass about the Constitution? You were trying to shred it and throw it away! We just followed your lead. Sucks when it’s you affected by someone else’s decisions, doesn’t it?”
Olstein started back peddling. “Well … um … perhaps I was a bit hasty with some of the changes I wanted to make. We can talk about it. Let’s just sit down together —”
Charles was shaking his head. “You made your intentions quite apparent with all those BS executive orders you were planning to implement. You didn’t want our input. You wanted to be a king or something. This is still America, Barton. Crippled, pained, and slightly broken, maybe. Definitely in need of help. None of that negates the Constitution. Not one of those things is cause to turn aside everything this country was founded on for your ideas of the security and structure needed to get us back on track. I don’t care what you, or any previous administration, think is an acceptable way for the government to act at a time like this. We don’t steal from one man to give to another. We aren’t a communist or socialist country. We aren’t Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to give to the poor. It may seem harsh, but the people who have supplies should not be expected to take care of the ones who didn’t plan for something like this. As their leaders, we should do whatever we can to help those people who weren’t prepared, but not to the extent that we expect other citizens to shoulder a burden that is ours to bear.”
Olstein’s voice became a whine. “But there was no way to plan for something like this! We didn’t know this was going to happen. We couldn’t have predicted it!”
Charles crossed his arms over his chest and replied, “You were warned — we all were. The EMP commission, the preppers … hell, the prepper fiction authors who wrote story after story about it. We — and I’m including myself, the rest of the Joint Chiefs, this administration, and a number of others before it — we all laughed it off and called them crazy, tinfoil-hat-wearing, paranoid extremists. We were so full of ourselves we didn’t believe anyone would have the balls to attack us on our own soil. We sent Japan home with its tail tucked between its legs after their attack on Pearl Harbor when we dropped the bomb on Hiroshima and thought no one else would try attacking us. We thought we were the ruling power of this world because of our military defenses. Looks like we were wrong.”
Olstein sat down hard on the disheveled bed. “This isn’t my fault! Why am I being held a prisoner because of what that little weasel in North Korea did?”
Charles leaned over so that he was eye to eye with Olstein. “Because you were planning to make it worse. It’s one thing to fight an enemy who has attacked us. It’s another to make enemies of law-abiding citizens whose only crime, in your eyes at least, was being better prepared than their government.”
Olstein leaned away from the formidable general and said, “How long do you plan on keeping me in here? I have rights, too, you know!”
“Until the new president gets here. He’ll decide what to do with you.”
“I thought Roman was already here. That’s who you planned to put in place, right?”
“He is, and he’s been sworn in. That’s not who I was referring to. I meant David Tanner.” Charles paused and waited for his reaction. It was almost immediate.
“Tanner? You still think he’s going to make it back here?” Olstein barked out, laughing. “I’d be surprised if they made it out of New York City alive.”
Charles smiled. “He’s well on his way. I talked to my aide just a few minutes ago. I estimate he will arrive tomorrow.”
Olstein’s eyes were wide as saucers. “I can’t believe you did all this behind my back. How could you?”
With a shrug, Charles replied, “The same way you tried to excuse the Joint Chiefs. It’s over, Barton. You might as well calm down and make yourself comfortable. You’ll be here until Tanner is sworn in, minimum.”
Charles turned to leave. Olstein jumped from the bed and scurried in front of him, barring his path to the door.
“You can’t keep me in here against my will! Who do you think you are?”
Charles pushed him out of his way and rapped on the door. He looked back and in a calm, controlled voice, said, “General Charles Everley, Interim Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Chief of Staff of the Army. And, yes, we can and will keep you here. That’s how a coup works. Get some sleep. Have a good night, Barton.”
The door opened and Charles stepped through it leaving Olstein gaping at him in a speechless stupor. Agent Warren looked in, then closed the door firmly. The sound of the key turning in the lock signaled the discussion was over.
~~~~~
The meeting was not going well.
President Phil Roman was looking for ideas as to what they could do to try to get control of the country again, as well as how to help the people, many of whom by then were most assuredly out of food and water.
“Communications is our biggest hindrance,” General Angie Bale said. “We can communicate with our own assets out of the country, with operations that were shielded by being underground, and any bases that had hardened facilities set up. That isn’t many. If we can’t communicate, we can’t coordinate.”
“Then what do we do?” Phil asked, exasperation apparent in his tone. “How do we find out what’s going on out there? We need more information!”
“What about the HAM operators?” General Carl McKenna chimed in. “Especially those prepper people. I bet they shielded their equipment, God love them.”
Phil’s face lit up. “Yes! Have we tried to reach any of them?”
“I doubt Olstein even considering issuing that kind of order, but we’ll get on it as soon as we break here.” Angie was making notes on a legal pad.
“Great! Now we’re getting somewhere! What else can we do until we get more information?” Phil asked eagerly.
“Well, we could start gathering supplies together,” General Anton Masters replied. “MREs, water filters and purification tabs, Mylar blankets, even generators. FEMA has that stuff stashed all over the place. As soon as we get communications, we can start spreading the word about distributions around the country. We’ll need security at those locations though. National Guard is my suggestion, if we can find them. We can pay them with supplies. It will be less intimidating to the people than Marines or soldiers.”
“I like that. Do we have any idea how much FEMA has stored?”
“Not that I know of. My guess is warehouses full. It will help for a little while. The problem is going to be when those supplies run out. How are people going to get food then?”
“I’ve put in a request to speak with the leaders of our allied countries,” Phil replied. “They should start sending aid immediately. God knows we’ve sent plenty to them.”
There were nods and murmurs of assent from around the room. Phil went on.
“About the National Guard. I really want to utilize them as much as possible for the very reason you stated, Anton. Do we have any way of finding them?”
“Apparently, some are actually at their post,” Charles said. “That’s who is with Sorley. He picked them up in New Jersey. Maybe we can find more doing the same. If they were on duty when it went down, they probably had more supplies there than at home. A good reason to stay put if you ask me. I mean, look at us. We all moved in here for the same reason.”
“I think that’s good for now. Angie, you’re covering communications. Notify me the second we hear from our allies. Charle
s, I’ll leave the rest of the assignments to you. If you get any push back from anyone with FEMA, let me know. We don’t have time for any of their bureaucratic bullshit.” Phil stood up and the Chiefs did the same.
“Yeah, and it’s too cold outside to be out there pissing on trees. I can handle them,” Charles replied. “It’s also getting late. Let’s try to get at least a couple of hours of rest. We’ve got a country to get back.”
~~~~~
The Chairman was rubbing his hands together, laughing out loud.
“Look at them! They are in total upheaval! Anarchy rules the streets! They are burning their own cities to the ground!”
The satellite images his technician had loaded on the large screen in the conference room showed the cabinet members what their leader was referring to. Cities like Los Angeles, Chicago, and Atlanta each looked like one huge conflagration. The scenes included gruesome pictures of bodies lying everywhere, with people walking past them as if it was a normal thing to see. Huge gangs could be made out combing through neighborhoods in a strong semblance of a swarm of locusts.
“It is beyond what I had hoped for! You see? Take away their luxuries and their expensive toys and they revert back to their violent beginnings. They have no self-discipline, no respect for each other. They are selfish, self-centered narcissists who care for no one but themselves, and their true nature is now bared for the world to see! They are fighting the war for us, comrades! When the time comes, we will land on their shores and scoop up whatever of the population is left to begin rebuilding the country for ourselves and our new holdings. I think we shall call it … West Korea. Yes, I like the sound of that. You may go.”
The Chairman dismissed the officers with a wave of his hand and a smug smile on his face. The admirals and generals left quickly. Two of them lagged behind the others, and when they were a safe distance away from the conference room, one of them whispered to the other:
“Do you think it will be that easy? That we can just go in and the Americans will give up and follow our orders?”
The second general shook his head. “No. Not all of them anyway. There are people there who value freedom over everything. They call themselves patriots. They will fight to their last breath. We should not underestimate them. Not for one second.”
Chapter 16
The group was quiet as they proceeded down the turnpike. As before, when a death had occurred, they were left to reflect on what their country was quickly devolving into and what life was going to look like for the ill-prepared. The lack of preparedness on the part of the majority of the people and the government weighed heavily on them all but perhaps on David Tanner the most. He had addressed the remaining men from the failed carjacking attempt before they got on their way.
“I’m sorry for the loss of your friend, but this is not a way to live, even now,” he’d admonished them. “You can’t steal from others for your own survival at the cost of someone else’s. If we had just been regular people, not military, possibly with children, would you have taken food that could have fed a child? Was this your long-term plan for a new way of life?”
None of the men answered their soon-to-be president, choosing to inspect the snow on the ground in front of them rather than meet his eyes full of disapproval. Their shock at realizing who they’d tried to rob was replaced by shame at their actions.
The men had been put into service to open one of the blocked lanes by pushing the car out of the way. Their weapons were returned to them without ammo. Since Marco was going to stay on top of the camper to keep an eye on them until they were out of sight, the decision was made to give them back. As he was handing their empty guns to them, Hutch had said, “You might need these, especially if you come across anyone out here like … well, you.”
After a brief stop to bring Marco back inside the camper, they made their way down the desolate, snow-covered highway. The overcast skies meant visibility was pretty much what was right in front of them. They were again met with a road that, though not plowed, had been driven on by some other vehicle since the snow stopped, giving them a set of tracks they could stay in and make better time.
“I keep wondering what other vehicles have been out here,” Damon said as he peered through the windshield. “I didn’t see any that were actually running on the way up, and we haven’t seen any since we left; but it’s obvious something else has been on this road.”
Darrell was driving, as he had switched with Hutch so he could get some sleep. “I was thinking the same thing. Pretty good-sized track width tells me either another military vehicle or a big truck or SUV. How much of the motor pools were shielded? Any idea?”
Damon shook his head. “Not really. That wasn’t part of my job duties, but, if I had to guess, I’d say maybe ten percent at the most. Even that may be pushing it. Think about all the bases where everything was sitting around out in yards or on lots. We’re lucky anyone was smart enough to have any of our vehicles in hardened storage. No one believed this would ever happen.”
“Yet, here we are,” Darrell replied. “At least we’re making good time now. Good choice on the turnpike. Any guess as to when we’ll get to D.C.?”
“Well, we just crossed Rancocas Creek. That puts us about one hundred and fifty miles away from Washington. If we don’t run into any trouble — make that any more trouble — we could make it in about three to four hours.”
“I’d guess it’s about zero one hundred. I’ve never seen the sun rise from the nation’s capital. For that matter, I’ve never seen the nation’s capital. I feel like that hobbit dude. I’m going on an adventure!” Darrell chuckled at his own joke, as did Damon and David Tanner. Melanie and Brock were asleep.
“We still have to deal with Wilmington and Baltimore. And the next thirty miles has quite a bit of suburbs close to it so keep your eyes open.”
“Will do, and back to whatever has been through here, it was nice of them to clear a path for us.”
Darrell pointed ahead, and Damon saw that all of the cars were indeed off to the side of the road. There was a clear avenue for them to travel.
“Somehow I get the feeling they didn’t clear it for us.” Damon was peering into the darkness trying to see anything off to the sides. After what they’d already been through, any abandoned car was a potential ambush point. However, they did not encounter anyone as the miles passed by. Damon’s idea that it was in some way safer seemed to be a good one. There were very few ramps, and both sides of the turnpike were lined with trees for the most part. Since there was little access, it seemed to be a less than desirable area for carjackers and others who might try to do them harm.
Just as Damon was starting to relax a bit, they saw a roaring blaze ahead on the left. He leaned forward and peered through the windshield.
“What the hell is that?” Darrell asked. “It’s some kind of building. Can you tell what it is, Damon? Or what it was?”
Damon was looking at his maps with a flashlight. His eyes grew wide as he looked at the inferno and said in a hushed voice, “That was the Moorestown Station for the New Jersey State Police. Somebody set it on fire!” He pulled out a small set of binoculars to get a closer look. “I see a lot of people outside, like some kind of a rally or something. Don’t slow down, Darrell. In fact, speed up if you can.”
Tanner was trying to see the fire as well. When they were almost beside it, he asked Damon, “Can I use those for a second, Major?”
“Absolutely, Sir.”
Damon handed the binoculars back to David. He put them to his eyes and adjusted the focus. After a moment, he dropped them from in front of his face and called out, “We need to stop! We have to go over there and help them!”
“Sir? Help who?” Damon asked, confusion apparent in his tone. Melanie and Brock woke with a start at the commotion.
“See for yourself!” he barked, thrusting them toward Damon. “Sergeant, stop this vehicle!”
Darrell started to slow down as Damon took the binoculars and tried to
see what Tanner saw. When he did, he looked at Darrell and said, “Don’t stop! Go! Go! Go!”
“What’s going on?” Agent Stephens called from the rear, tensing up in anticipation of an unknown threat.
“I said to stop! We can’t just leave them like that!” Tanner was wild-eyed with anger.
Damon looked back at Tanner and said, “Sir, we have one mission. That is to get you to the White House. Nothing can interfere with that, and we cannot deviate from the plan. I’m sorry, but we can’t help those men.”
“They’re police officers! We are going to need all the help we can get to control the lawlessness that is, quite apparently, a big issue now. How will we do that without the police?”
Damon held Tanner’s gaze. “I don’t know the answer to that, Sir. But then, I’m not the one who has to figure things like that out. You and your advisers will. But those men,” he said, pointing toward the fire, “are beyond our help. Even if we did stop, it’s too late; and we would only be putting everyone here in danger.” He looked pointedly at Melanie and Brock, who were watching and listening, fear etched on their faces. “I don’t think you want to do that.” Tanner did not respond.
“What the hell is going on over there?” Stephens said again louder.
Damon turned back to face the road and replied quietly, “They hung troopers from the entry way and set them on fire.”
No one spoke as they continued on their way down the turnpike. Besides the roar of the tires in the snow, the sound of Melanie’s soft sobs was the only thing that could be heard.
“Momma, why are you crying?” Brock’s concern for his mother was felt by all the men inside. He hadn’t understood what they were talking about earlier it seemed.