California

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California Page 11

by Jamie Lee Grey


  Fires that Nadir had planned and ordered.

  But not ones he wished to die in. It seemed like the worst possible way to die. Smoke filling and scorching your lungs as you try to breathe. Unbearable, inescapable heat as the fire nears.

  Your skin sears from the heat. Your clothing toasts your flesh wherever it touches. And then, when you cannot imagine the pain getting any worse, the flames.

  The flames!

  Nadir shuddered.

  Christians believed in Hell, where non-believers and evil spirits would suffer eternal torture of unquenchable flames. They were about to get a taste of that in California.

  But not him!

  No. While he had orchestrated this attack, he was not going to die in it. He could not.

  He would not!

  He’d smuggled a completely illegal handgun home from a neighboring state where they were still legal. And he’d bought a box of ammunition for it.

  He would use it, if he had to.

  Cold steel under a warm chin, and it’ll all be over.

  The fire would never claim him.

  But suicide was strictly forbidden in Islam. Would he still get his seventy-two virgins?

  ***

  Katie couldn’t see any smoke ahead. But then again, the eight-foot-wide motorhome blocked most of her view forward. And if she created any more space between the pickup’s front bumper and the RV’s rear one, somebody would try to weasel in between them.

  “Zach, are you sure?” She asked. “How can you tell? The air is pretty hazy.”

  “I know, but I think I see a column of smoke. Not just general haze.”

  Oh… that was bad.

  Her stomach turned sour.

  “Where, exactly? Straight ahead, where we’re going, or off to the side?”

  “It’s more to the right,” Zach answered. “I think we’ll be going north of it.”

  “Good.”

  But traffic still wasn’t moving forward. In any of the lanes.

  “What’s happening up there? Nobody’s moving!”

  “There are some emergency vehicles trying to merge in from the onramp. It’s a big, snarled mess,” Zach said.

  “Great.” Just great. Then she had another thought. “Uh, what kind of emergency vehicles? Ambulance? Police?”

  “Nope.” He paused. “Fire.”

  “Oh….” Now what? She tried to see around the motorhome. “Maybe we should get off the interstate. I bet side streets are faster at this point.”

  “We just missed the exit.”

  “Well, maybe we should take the next one!”

  Zach didn’t respond to the irritation in her tone. “Maybe. But we’re almost out of the metro area, and I think traffic will clear up when we get past all the urban areas.”

  “It should have cleared up already. I think all these people are getting out of Dodge!”

  He didn’t respond right away.

  “You could be right,” he finally said. “Hey, it’s time for the news. Over and out.”

  “Out.”

  Katie turned off the walkie and turned on the pickup’s radio. After a stupid commercial, complete with brain-dead jingle, the national news came on.

  “Following a wave of wildfires intentionally lit along the Pacific Coast this morning, arsonists have lit more fires in California this afternoon. This time, along the base of the mountain ranges in the central part of the state. Officials say the number of new fires is unknown; however, nearly a thousand fires were ignited this morning, and early reports indicate hundreds of new blazes this afternoon, as well.”

  WHAT?! Katie’s breath stalled in her lungs. She consciously sucked in air.

  “Residents in the path of the fires are encouraged to evacuate.”

  Yeah. Katie rolled her eyes. Where are they gonna go? Not anywhere fast on these roads!

  “Firefighting crews are stretched thin, and most have been deployed to the coastal area fires,” the announcer continued. “Phone systems have been overwhelmed, and officials are requesting that California residents and their families avoid making any calls except for emergencies requiring ambulance or police services. Again, please leave the phone lines available for callers in need of medical or law enforcement attention.”

  A ridiculous commercial came on, and Katie muted the radio.

  Yeah. Don’t call your family and see if they’re okay. Don’t call them and say goodbye. Nobody was going to comply with that request!

  She felt a little nauseated, so she rolled down her window for fresh air.

  It wasn’t fresh, though. It smelled of exhaust and smoke.

  She rolled up the window and turned up the AC. Yeah, she’d use up her precious gasoline quicker, but she needed to breathe deeply.

  It felt like all the oxygen in her world was being sucked away.

  ***

  If it weren’t for the surging adrenaline, Alana felt sure she’d be exhausted. But who could sleep – or even feel tired, with all this craziness?

  “Okay, everyone!” Basilia reigned in the room. “Take a five minute break.”

  With that, the president headed off to her restroom, and Alana started for her own suite. A few minutes later, she returned to the president’s suite. The head Secret Service agent and the Secretary of Defense were huddled near her door, but had their backs to her.

  “….inexperienced women.” The Secretary of Defense was saying as she approached.

  The security agent turned his head, saw her, and gave an acknowledging nod. The pair fell silent.

  Had they been talking about her and Basilia? Or something entirely different?

  She gave them an icy look just in case. So they’d know they’d been caught. Moments later, Basilia returned.

  The head of her security detail approached her. “Madame President, we really must get you to a secure location. With the country under attack –”

  “California is under attack.” Basilia countered. “Not New York.”

  The Homeland Security director stepped closer. “Just days ago, we apprehended a terrorist here on the East Coast. They may be connected with the California cell. This could be much more widespread than we realize at this point.”

  “Besides,” the Secretary of Defense jumped in, “we should be in the Situation Room or the Presidential Emergency Operations Center. In the White House.”

  He gestured around the suite. “We need technology. Real time, secure live stream. A host of secure phone lines. This place doesn’t cut it!”

  The president ran her fingers through her smooth black hair.

  “I know.” She sighed, finally ready to give in. “Let’s go back to D.C.”

  Alana’s head of security approached her and the president.

  “When we get back to the White House, we’ll put you in the Presidential Emergency Operations Center. Not the Situation Room. You need to be in a bunker.”

  “Fine,” Basilia said.

  “And the vice president, as well.”

  “Okay, Jack. Just get us there!”

  Realizing it would take a little time for the Secret Service to finalize travel arrangements, Alana made some personal phone calls, as a flurry of activity whirled around her. First, she spoke to her parents in Maine. Her mom sounded panicked when she answered the phone.

  “Mom, calm down. Everything’s going to be okay,” Alana assured her.

  “Are you okay, honey? Where are you?”

  “I’m fine. I’m being transported to a secure location.”

  “Where?”

  “I can’t say, exactly. On the east coast. Far from the fires.”

  “Oh, dear. Oh dear, oh dear….” Her mother came from a long line of worriers, but she had always been the best worrier in the bunch. “It’s a terror attack, honey. What if they come after you?”

  “I’ll be safe. They’ll never be able to get to me, Mom. Now listen…” Alana stepped out of the president’s suite, into her own, and closed the door behind her. “I want you and dad to gath
er anything you might need to stay home for a while, okay?”

  “Like what? And what do you mean, stay home for a while? We have jobs. We can’t just stay home!”

  “Remember after 9/11? Gas stations ran out of fuel. Grocery stores ran low on food. Flights were canceled for like what, a week?”

  “You think we’re going to be bombed!”

  “No!” Alana calmed her voice. “No, we are not going to be bombed. I just want you and dad to be set to stay home for a few days. Get some bottled water and non-perishables, like you would if a big storm was blowing in and the power might go out.”

  “Why would the power go out here? We’re in Maine, not California!”

  “I did not say the power would go out.” Alana rolled her eyes. “Can you just go to the store and get some bottled water and some cheese and crackers?”

  Her mother would never come home from a grocery store with just cheese and crackers. Once she was in the store, she saw a virtual feast, and she always pushed a very full cart to the checkout. It was the only regular exercise she got. Now, if she’d just agree to go there.

  “Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll get some water.”

  “Good. And fill up the gas tank on your way home.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Mom? Will you fill up your car?”

  “Alright, whatever.”

  “And don’t wait. Do it now, okay?”

  “Pretty soon.”

  “Tonight, alright? Promise you won’t wait until tomorrow.”

  “Okay! I’ll go tonight!”

  “Thank you.” Alana glanced at her watch. “Look, I gotta run. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Give Dad a kiss for me.”

  After she ended the call, she placed a similar one to her sister in Texas. As usual, Candace was less worried and more cooperative than their mother. As they hung up, Alana looked out at the window. Night had fallen, and the city was lit up like a Christmas tree. Streetlights, headlights, marquee lights and neon lights competed with illuminated buildings to conquer every shadow in the bustling urban world.

  Her door banged open, and Secret Service agents burst into her suite. One grabbed her luggage, while three approached her.

  “We have to go.”

  They physically grabbed her and half-walked, half carried her into the hall, then hustled her into an elevator guarded by other agents. They pushed two buttons, one to close the elevator and the other to send them to the basement parking garage.

  “What’s going on?!” She straightened her skirt.

  “There’s been a bomb.” One of them spoke, while one centered himself in front of the doors, and the third pressed a finger against her earpiece like she was listening to radio transmissions or instructions.

  The elevator lurched. Alana’s chin trembled.

  “What kind of bomb? Where?”

  “We’re waiting for details.”

  “Where’s the president?”

  “Her team took her.”

  Lights lit each floor indicator as the elevator traveled down the shaft.

  “The cabinet members?”

  “Being secured as we speak.”

  She needed to call her staff. She reached for her phone. It wasn’t there.

  “My phone! It’s gone!”

  “Agents will pick it up, along with your computer and anything else you left in the room.”

  “But I need it!” It had all her contacts in it. She actually did not even know her parents’ phone number. She’d just put them in her contacts list. She never dialed anybody.

  The elevator door slid open, and cool air rushed in, smelling of diesel fuel and exhaust smoke. A shiny black SUV idled ten feet in front of her.

  The agents grabbed her and rushed her forward, pushing her into the dark cavity of the vehicle. Three jumped in with her. Two were already seated in front.

  The door slammed shut, the engine revved, and all the locks secured with a loud click.

  Someone pulled her seatbelt over her shoulder and pushed it down beside her hip.

  “I can get it myself!” She grabbed the belt and felt in the dim light for the connecting piece, and jammed it in securely.

  “I need my telephone.” She said it with all the authority she could muster.

  “It’ll be brought to you,” an agent in the front said, without turning around.

  “When?”

  “Soon.”

  The SUV roared through the exit portal and out onto the street. Alana turned and looked over her shoulder. Two more were on its tail.

  “Is the president behind us?” Alana asked.

  “Cabinet members,” the female agent responded. “The president was moved first.”

  Alana pressed back into the leather seat and stared straight ahead. The vehicle raced through two green lights, then careened around a corner. She knew the agents were protecting her, but it’d been years since she’d felt so little control over her own life or body. No matter what she said, no matter what she needed or wanted, nothing would deter the security team from their orders.

  They wouldn’t even pull over if she needed to throw up. So she’d better not.

  Was this what it felt like to be kidnapped?

  Chapter 14

  As Nadir descended the stairs to the first floor, he heard his father’s voice. His office door was open. Nadir drew closer. Perhaps he would hear something informative. A woman’s voice responded to a question.

  His father nearly had a love affair with his speakerphone.

  Nadir sidled up to the open door, hugging the wall and stepping as quietly as he could.

  “Yes, of course, Madame President.”

  Oh, excellent timing! This should be good!

  He edged up to the door frame and listened.

  “The FAA is diverting all flights into California,” she said. “They’re going to all the neighboring states.”

  “Good,” his father said. “At some point, they may have to cancel outbound flights as well, because of the approaching fires. Plus, we’re having problems already with people showing up at the airports without reservations and demanding to be let on board.”

  “How bad is it?” The president asked.

  “At first it wasn’t too awful. The past hour, though, it has become dangerous. Mobs and fist fights.”

  “Can you get the National Guard to your major airports?”

  “They’ve been called up, but it could be hours before they’re deployed at the facilities. Of course, by then it might be a moot point. With all the incoming flights diverted, those aircraft will not be here for our use. We are filling every available plane and sending it away. Soon, there will be no more planes for anyone to board – whether they have a ticket or not.”

  Nadir leaned against the wall. So that was why his father had told him he could not fly out today! Soon, no one could. Why hadn’t he just said so, instead of being all mysterious about it?

  “I’ll ask the FAA about the possibility of sending empty passenger planes out your way,” the president said. “Assuming, of course, that there are pilots willing to fly in and out.”

  “Perhaps you could incentivize them,” the governor said. “Or perhaps you could send us military planes. Even cargo planes. Anything to help some Californians evacuate.”

  “I will look into that.” She paused. “Look, we have another issue, too. There are certain people we need to make sure are evacuated first. Members of Congress and their families, your staff and state legislators and their families. These people need to have first priority on outbound flights.”

  “But the flights are already booked full,” Nadir’s father said. “In fact, since the airlines have been overselling their limited capacity, many ticketed passengers are not being allowed to board. Several boarding agents have already been assaulted!”

  “You do realize the importance of continuity of government, don’t you?” She asked. “After this is all over, your staff and government need to be ready to pick up the pieces and put things ba
ck together. You can’t do that if half of your elected officials are dead or mourning their family members.”

  “So what do you propose?”

  The president took a moment to respond.

  “I’ll send some military aircraft. But they’ll only be for high-priority officials and their staff and families. Not your regular Wal-Mart shoppers.”

  Nadir rolled his eyes.

  But at least now, he didn’t have to worry about getting a flight out of the burning state. He’d be one of the special people who would be rescued at government arrangement and expense.

  Unless his flight headed north, though, he’d still likely miss his flight out of the country.

  He probably wouldn’t make it to Iran to watch tomorrow’s “fireworks” with his mother and his uncle. If he were lucky, maybe he could get to Canada, though. And then catch a flight to the middle east in a day or two.

  “You’ll need to consider the timing of your own evacuation,” the president continued. “Don’t wait too long.”

  “We may not have to go,” the governor said. “We may be okay here in Sacramento.”

  “That looks very doubtful, Omar. Please leave early and don’t endanger yourself.”

  “My staff will keep me apprised of the changing circumstances. Thank you for your concern.”

  “Look, I’m about to land in D.C. Let’s check in again after I’m in the bunker.”

  “Very well, Madame President. We’ll talk soon.”

  ***

  Eventually, traffic began to inch forward again. Katie’s stomach rumbled. Dinner time had come and gone, and now the sun was sinking fast into the western horizon.

  But at least they were moving now. Creeping, creeping, ever so slowwwwwly, toward mountains and the great state of Nevada.

  A spectacular sunset began to glow, casting the world in its wild pink-orange light. It was beautiful, even if it was the result of all the smoke in the air.

  The sun itself blazed florescent pink. Katie tried not to stare at it, knowing it would damage her retinas – but it was stunning and breathtaking, and hard not to look at.

  Turning her gaze toward the eastern mountains, she saw it – the smoke plume Zach had mentioned. Then she saw another, and possibly a third, although it was hard to say for sure, with all the hazy smoke everywhere.

 

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