by Bobby Akart
“Was this the first use of cyber attacks?”
“Oh no. Just a year before, in 2007, entities believed to have been associated with the Russian government or its allies launched a cyber attack against the nation of Estonia. The attack was undertaken as a result of a dispute sparked by the removal of a World War II–era Soviet soldier from a public park. The attacks crippled Estonia’s digital infrastructure, paralyzed government and media sites, and shut down the former Soviet Republic’s largest bank. While a hot war did not result, the Estonian virtual invasion proved to Putin that a cyber attack was a valuable first-strike weapon.”
“Do you think the Russians did this?” asked Julia.
Sarge took in a deep breath. “The Russians are moving their naval vessels out of the Arctic base towards our eastern seaboard. Also, reports have the Russia Red Banner Pacific Fleet departing Vladivostok for the Aleutian Islands in Alaska. Despite our purchase of Alaska from the Russians in the 1860s, Putin has eyed Alaska as an oil-rich resource.”
“He might be making a move against Alaska,” said Julia.
“Or worse. He might be making a move on us. I believe this is why they have called the emergency meeting in Geneva. The world is pointing the finger of blame at the Russians. Putin might be preparing for war.”
Chapter 28
September 4, 2016
2:24 p.m.
The Lowell and Cabot Estates
Wellesley, Massachusetts
Sarge studied the map as he planned his next route. It was time to pick up the Cabots and Lowells. Mr. Morgan insisted on their retrieval first, but Sarge chose to protect the members of the Boston Brahmin closest to him and Julia. Sarge knew there was no formal hierarchy amongst the Boston Brahmin. Wealth or lineage did not determine leadership. The ability to wield power and influence was the determining factor—and respect. Without question, John Morgan was in charge.
In an 1860 article in the Atlantic Monthly, physician and author Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr., father of the infamous United States Supreme Court Justice, originated the term as a means of identifying Boston’s upper class. Members of the Boston Brahmin formed the core of America’s East Coast aristocracy. Descendants of the earliest English colonists who came to America on the Mayflower, the Founding Fathers, were represented within the group. Most of the Boston Brahmin families could trace their ancestry back to the original seventeenth-century American ruling class of Massachusetts—including governors, magistrates, Harvard presidents and the clergy.
At first, readers of the Atlantic Monthly became confused at the comparison of America’s gentry to the social caste system in India. Brahmin, in the Hindu tradition, referred to one of four classes of people who supposedly had gained a higher knowledge of the Hindu religion. When asked about the use of the term, Holmes simply replied that the Brahmin were the harmless, inoffensive, and untitled aristocracy of America. After that, the term became used in literary circles of New England and stuck with the descendants of the Founding Fathers.
Bostonians and the rest of the world were unaware the Boston Brahmin existed as a loosely held organization, complete with an executive committee—and an agenda. While John Morgan was unanimously recognized as the head, Lawrence Lowell, and Walter Cabot were clearly next in the hierarchy.
The names Lowell and Cabot were learned by every school-age child in Massachusetts when the history of the American Revolution was taught to them. The Lowells and Cabots were also widely considered New England’s first families.
Lowell was the son of the former president of Harvard and a direct descendant of John Lowell, a federal judge in the first United States Continental Congress. As far back as the sixteenth century, the Lowells and Winthrops were allies and friends. When Governor John Winthrop was named the governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, he immediately called upon the Lowell family to help settle the New England region.
As part of the present-day contingent of the Boston Brahmin, Lawrence Lowell and Walter Cabot were John Morgan’s closest confidants. They were privy to everything.
“Turn here on Winding River,” said Dr. Peabody. “The Lowells live at the end of the cul-de-sac on the Charles River.” Sarge pulled up to the security gate that was closed. Dr. Peabody jumped out and entered the code to gain entry. Because the system was solar powered, it remained operable despite the power outage.
“Thank you for coming with me, Art. As we saw on the way over here, the further we go into this catastrophe, the more dangerous it is to be on the streets.”
“It’s not a problem at all, Sarge. I’ve trained with my handgun extensively, although I didn’t want to remind Mrs. Peabody of that point. I don’t think she considered the potential for use of weapons while we’re picking up our friends.”
Sarge exited the truck and replied, “I want to get everyone gathered as soon as possible, Art. I don’t like the fact that some of the families will have to wait until tomorrow.”
“Has Julia reached Henry Endicott yet?”
“Not yet. I know that he was instructed on the use of the satellite phone and the protocols to follow in the event of a situation like this one. We’ll keep trying, but I feel compelled to help those we’ve contacted first.”
Lawrence Lowell greeted them at the door. “Hello, Art! Greetings, Henry! It’s a beautiful day to bug out, as they say.” The men laughed at the elderly Lowell, whose portly belly shook at the reference to bugging out. Most of America’s citizens were probably experiencing panic and fear, Lawrence Lowell was embracing the apocalypse as a new adventure.
“Hello, Mrs. Lowell,” said Sarge as Constance Lowell emerged from the magnificent stone arched entry.
“Thank you for coming, Henry,” she said. It did not appear that Mrs. Lowell was quite as enthusiastic as her jovial husband. “Lawrence, I suppose you will need help with my bags.”
Lowell opened both entry doors to reveal six suitcases, two hanging bags, and a hatbox.
“Oh shit,” Sarge muttered to Dr. Peabody. He wasn’t sure if he could get all of this in the truck.
“Connie may have packed a little too much,” started Lowell apologetically. “I tried to explain to her that we could return to get more clothes later.”
Clueless. “Mrs. Lowell, I’m afraid we don’t have room for all of your bags. We have to pick up the Cabots, and they will have bags of their own.”
“You see, Lawrence,” Mrs. Lowell said. “We should just drive our car. Why don’t you be a dear and drive the Bentley around? Then we won’t have to inconvenience this young man.” Sarge bristled at the reference but then brushed it off. Mrs. Lowell was elderly and had been New England gentry her entire life. This was just her—way.
“Mr. Lowell, it’s not an inconvenience, but we have limited space—and time,” said Sarge. “Also, sir, driving a Bentley around Boston right now is a terrible idea.”
Mr. Lowell pondered for a moment, and then he turned to his wife. “Constance, pick the two most important pieces of luggage, and we’ll hold the suit bags in our laps. I don’t believe you’ll need any hats in the near future.”
With a pout, she tapped two suitcases and grabbed up her suit bags. She never spoke a word after that. Sarge hoped that she would come around after reality set in. Otherwise, she was going to make things difficult for everyone with her attitude.
It took only a few minutes to reach the entry of the Cabot Estate. As Sarge approached, he was surprised to see two armed men approaching from his left. He was about to hit reverse out of the private drive when they raised their hands and shouted for him to wait. Sarge pulled his weapon and laid it in his lap. He rolled down his window. He didn’t like being in this vulnerable position.
“Professor Sargent, we’re with Aegis. We’ve worked with your brother, Steven.” Sarge analyzed their posture and the expressions on their faces. They were not a threat to him. He holstered his weapon.
“I wasn’t expecting security. When I spoke with Mr. Cabot last night, he didn’t mention having a tea
m present.” Sarge’s eyes darted to the rearview mirror to catch Lowell’s attention. “Mr. Lowell, did you have security as well?”
“I did,” replied Lowell. “They were sent home this morning just before your arrival. They have families too, Henry.”
Sarge turned his attention back to the Aegis security personnel. “How many members of the team are on the premises?”
“There are two more of us at the house.”
“Okay, thank you for approaching us with caution, and the explanation. Open the gate, please.” The security team operated a remote-access fob and opened the solar-powered security gate. As Sarge drove down the half-mile-long driveway toward the main house, he thought about the dispatch of security personnel to the Lowell and Cabot residences. Does Aegis keep staff available twenty-four seven for emergency security details? Why wasn’t he informed?
“Mr. Lowell, did you have four security members as well?”
“Yes, Henry.” Well, they could have brought you to 100 Beacon. Sarge was puzzled by this. Something was nagging at him.
As he entered the circle drive, the other members of the Aegis team approached the truck. They opened the door for Sarge as Walter Cabot greeted them. After a few friendly words exchanged between the passengers, they were soon on their way.
Chapter 29
September 4, 2016
4:06 p.m.
100 Beacon
Boston, Massachusetts
Sarge brought up the last of the luggage. The trek up and down eleven flights of stairs would take its toll as food became rationed. It was important to maintain their nutrition levels, but calorie intake would suffer. The Quinns had spent a considerable amount of time researching nutritional supplements to complement the food stored in their prepper pantry.
In addition to vitamin supplements, one of the most useful items was high-calorie protein powders. The shelf life was typically a couple of years, but the potency levels would maintain much longer. Susan had stocked their pantry with vanilla-flavored powder. Even past its sell-by date, the intensity of the vanilla flavoring would start to fade. But its value as a supplement could still be used by cooking it with oatmeal, pancakes, and muffins. In an urban environment where the ability to hunt was nonexistent, Sarge considered these drink supplements an excellent source of protein and energy.
The ambient traffic noise, although sparse, allowed the generator to run. The twenty-two-kilowatt Generac unit, which powered the three floors occupied by the Loyal Nine, was only a temporary solution to their power needs. Their urban off-grid system was designed to run via the powerful generator, which was charged by being hard-wired to the grid. In the event of an EMP or extraordinary power surge, the GE-designed protection devices would act as a shield to the Generac—absorbing the surge. The electronics and appliances servicing 100 Beacon would never be vulnerable to the surge in power.
Sarge planned to use the Generac for a few hours a day until the solar array could be installed. He had counted on Steven or Donald to help with the task, but Donald was at Prescott Peninsula, and Steven was heading home. He also needed to install the HughesNet Gen 5 satellite Internet system to provide more information options. The Gen 5 was a more complex system than the portable unit Julia was relying upon, and with faster speeds. A similar system was being installed at Prescott Peninsula. Around the country, like-minded friends would be installing their version of the Digital Carrier Pigeon to keep open lines of communication and to share information.
“Sir, I believe you’ve earned this,” said Julia as she handed Sarge his beloved Gevalia Mocha Latte. He closed his eyes and took in the aroma.
“Wow, this is heaven. Are you an angel?”
“Sort of, but not always, sir,” she replied, giving him a much-needed hug.
“Are our guests settling in?” Sarge asked. The Winthrops and the Peabodys decided to share a room on the ninth floor—known as Penthouse II. They allowed the Cabots and Lowells to share the master suite.
“They are indeed. Mrs. Lowell has been a little fussy, but the other ladies decided to let her stew in her own madness. I’ve been very impressed with Aunt Stella. It appears she has been practicing shooting with my uncle, and they both have been watching disaster films of late. They have the mindset to survive.”
“Good,” said Sarge as he finished his latte. “My last stops for the day are the Lodges, Tudors, and Samuel Bradlee. They all live near each other on Beacon Hill. I don’t think I’ll take Art on this trip. That will allow me to chauffeur them all at once—assuming no surprise items of luggage or pets.” Winnie the Frenchie ran through the Great Hall with a plastic water bottle in her mouth.
“I just called all three of them, and they understand. They will be waiting for you. Can you make it back before dark?”
“Easily,” replied Sarge. “But I have to say, as the day progresses, the amount of activity in the streets increases. I’ve also noticed a rise in unsavory characters. I believe this evening will be a rough one for some.”
“Then you better get going and stay safe.”
“A couple of more things. Did you get in touch with the Endicotts?”
“No,” replied Julia. “I assume they’re at their condo at the former Fairmont Battery Wharf Hotel. Remember, they purchased the penthouse unit next to Patricia Cornwell.”
“Yeah, that’s right. I don’t mind getting them, but I don’t want to gallivant all over Boston if they’re not home. Doesn’t General Endicott travel a lot with his new bride?”
“I’ve heard she is new,” Julia said sarcastically. “She’s younger than all but one of his children. You know all of these ladies were good friends with Jane Anne, his first wife. I’m not sure the latest and greatest Mrs. Endicott will get along with this crew.”
Sarge laughed. The shit had hit the fan out there and would in here as well when they showed up.
Chapter 30
Sunday, September 4, 2016
7:55 p.m.
100 Beacon
Boston, Massachusetts
Julia made Mrs. Lowell a cup of hot tea. Mrs. Lowell was having difficulty adjusting to her new life. Julia assumed her husband had shielded her from the threats their nation faced. Like so many husbands, Lowell, most likely in an attempt to protect his wife from stress or worry, avoided the subject. She was in a state of shock.
After Sarge’s return with the last of the Boston Brahmin, except for the Endicotts, who were still out of contact, they decided to gather the group together and discuss the events of the last twenty-four hours. Julia spent the day scouring the Internet for news reports. Fluent in Chinese, Julia spent some time on the official website of the State Council of the People’s Republic of China. Premier Li stressed that China was not involved in the attack on the United States power grid and pledged to build the EHV, extra-high voltage, transformers and replace parts necessary for damaged units as quickly as possible. However, the time frame for replacing the massive transformers was estimated to be one to three years, and the premier stressed payment must be made in gold or equivalent—not the almighty dollar.
The U.S. interconnected grid had three main components: generation—creation of electricity; transmission—the cross-regional transportation of electricity; and distribution—connecting the electricity to the end user. America had eighty thousand miles of EHV transmission lines making up the backbone of the power grid that enabled the long-haul transport of electricity.
Ninety percent of consumed energy passed through a high-voltage transformer at some point. As these transformers failed in large numbers, a cascading effect rippled throughout the entire western and eastern interconnected grid. Reports indicated these EHV transformers were damaged beyond repair, except in Texas, which was not connected to the eastern and western grids.
EHV transformers were huge, weighing hundreds of tons, making them difficult to transport—in some cases requiring specialized railcars, which were also in short supply. Before the cyber attack on Saturday night, the EHV transform
ers installed in the U.S. were approaching or exceeding the end of their forty-year design lifetimes—increasing their vulnerability to failure.
The vulnerability of the critical infrastructure was a frequent topic in the Boston Herald newsroom and among the Loyal Nine. It was agreed that a grid-down scenario was the worst possible scenario for America. While many would die from the lack of power to medical devices, most would die from disease, starvation, and violence.
After the last pickup of the day, Sarge began to show concern about the conditions outside 100 Beacon. As the day progressed, unrest escalated. Bostonians began to learn through the limited cell phone service that the grid was down nationwide. Julia suspected many were in denial as to whether this event was going to be long-term and catastrophic in nature. Her online research reported unrest across the nation. A brief trip to the rooftop earlier in the day revealed fires burning out of control toward Dorchester, Roxbury, and Mattapan. The sounds of sirens from first responders filled the air—together with black smoke.
She closed the laptop and whispered to Sarge, “Should we tell them everything we know? I don’t think the husbands have kept their wives informed as to the severity of the situation.”
“Have there been any news reports directly affecting Boston?” asked Sarge.
“No—other than what we’ve observed from the rooftop or your outings,” she replied.
“I think it would be a mistake to sugarcoat the situation. Let’s be factual, but not over the top. A few people in this room need a wake-up call, but there are a couple of the ladies that concern me. Especially Mrs. Lowell. She seems genuinely upset by what’s happening—more so than the others.”
