by Ira Tabankin
“What do you suggest?”
“I think we have to look into nationalizing our industries.”
“All of them?”
“Yes, all of them, we’re run everything; everyone will work for us; no one can strike without our permission, we’ll own every factory, we’ll be able to control what they make, no more useless products, no more products that damage the environment. I’ve been thinking of issuing both an LSA minimum and also a maximum wage. The maximum will be capped at 20 times the minimum wage. Hence, the lowest paid will earn $25,000, and the highest capped at $500,000. No one needs to earn more than $500,000 a year. No one will need the excuse of needing more to start a new company if we the government own all of the industries. This’ll ensure everyone in the LSA is well off and also lower our costs and enable us to control the economy.”
“What about the elderly and their impact on our healthcare budget?”
“What do you think about offering them incentives to move to the USA, if they won’t move we’ll move them across the border. Let the USA deal with them. As they age the formula within the healthcare law already lowers their care as they age becoming less productive, in time our aged will die before they negatively impact our cost models.”
“I like it; Brownstone will accept them without question. As he takes them off our hands, our expenses will stabilize. When should we start?”
“As soon as a new census is completed.”
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The national evening news programs’ sound bites are;
“President Brownstone allows terrorists to kill American citizens.”
“12 shopping malls attacked; hundreds killed. The administration does nothing.”
“FBI arrests local terrorist who attacks shoppers in Sterling, Virgina.”
“New York City enters the tenth day without power, tens of thousands dead, President Brownstone does nothing to help.”
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“Mr. President, the Secretary of Homeland Security, is online one.”
“Alvin what’s up?”
“Mr. President, I have some very bad news, two truck bombs exploded on the seven-mile bridge in Florida. Two large sections of the bridge collapsed, twenty are dead, sir, the Florida Keys are now cut off from the rest of the country. Sir, within an hour of the seven-mile bridge bombing three bridges over the Mississippi River, were also blown up by truck bombs.”
“Alvin, who is it?”
“Sir, our best guess and so far it’s only a guess, is the LSAs behind the bombings.”
“Why? We let them go. Why are they attacking us?”
“Mr. President, our best guess is they want to keep us off balance, so their allies build up sufficient forces to attack us. By attacking us across the country, they make us spread our forces thin trying to protect against the next attack.”
“How large is the international socialist force in the LSA?”
“Sir, our best estimates are 15,000. They’re based in LA at the Pomona Fairgrounds, in Seattle at SeaTac and the Boeing facility which was their first target in the North West. They’re also starting to move into the remains of Fort Lewis.
“What are the estimates of their timetable and what are their expected initial targets?”
“Sir, I think you need to have that discussion with John over at defense. Our estimate is driven from them.”
“Alvin, I get it, you don’t want to step on John’s toes that is good, why don’t you pick him up and both stop by for dinner and discussion?”
“Sir, 1900 hours?”
“See you then.”
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“Colonel Aguilar you have a call on a secure line.”
“Gracias.”
“Hola, Colonel Aguilar here, authorization code ventana alpha fuego quartro”
“Si Colonel, please hold for one moment, the Presidente wants to speak with you.”
“Colonel, this is President Puten.”
“Yes sir, what can I do for you?”
“Colonel are all of your troops settled and ready for action?”
“Si Mr. Presidente.”
“Good, code word, rojo”
“Si, I repeat, code word rojo.”
Colonel Aguilar hands the phone to the radio supervisor as he turns to leave the radio trailer; he calls over his shoulder, “tell the three captains to meet me in my trailer in ten minutes.”
“Si Coronel.”
Ten minutes later three captains stand at attention in front of the Colonel.
“Our initial mission has been authorized; we are to take over the US base at Maelstrom, this is a strategic weapons base. We are to capture the base and secure all of the special weapons. In your packages is a diagram of the base.”
“Coronel, how do we get access to the silos?”
“Our source in the American military will be providing us the codes.”
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“Harold, Mayor DeFarco is on line two.”
“Mr. Mayor have you discovered why your city lost power?”
“Yes Mr. Acting President, Con Edison sold the power at a higher price to the USA.”
“What do you want me to do about it?”
“I want you to nationalize the power plants within my city.”
“I don’t think we can nationalize only a couple of plants if we’re going to do it, we’re going to have to nationalize all of them.”
“I don’t see the problem, what’s keeping you from signing the executive order. There’re millions of people suffering and dying in my city. It’s been ten days without power; I have people eating snow for drinking water. You have to act so I can send the NYPD to switch the power over to the city.”
“You might have something here, by nationalizing the power generating plants we control the power; we can cut it off to those who don’t support us. I’ll see how long it’ll take to create the legal forms to absorb them.”
Four hours later, the LSA announces it’s nationalized all of the countries electrical power generating facilities in order to ensure everyone has access to electrical power. Acting President Reid issues a press release stating he took this action to ensure the poor and cold have power when they most need it. He pointed to the blackout in New York City as an example of corporate greed that has no place in the people’s country of the LSA.
NYPD SWAT units take over the Con Edison plants switching the power from America to New York City. The people in the city are overjoyed when the lights go on. Within an hour the sanitation department starts clearing the streets, they uncover hundreds of dead bodies that froze while looking for shelter. The clearing has to stop each time a body is uncovered until the medical examiner and coroner arrives to take pictures and pick up the bodies.
Mayor Defarco issues orders that in the public interests to clear the streets, there’s an urgent need to accelerate the street clearing by the sanitation department. He orders the sanitation department to push the bodies to the side of the streets and continue with the street cleaning, they’re instructed to call in the location of the bodies so they can be collected by the medical examiner.
With electrical power restored and the street clearing in process the Mayor and his staff start inspecting their damaged city. Tens of thousands of homes are destroyed, over a million are now homeless, and many have broken into office buildings to find temporary shelter. Without electrical power, toilets ceased functioning, piles of human waste line the sidewalks. People have been catching stray pets and large rats which they cook over fires made from furniture dragged out of offices and homes. With the power restored water once again begins flowing, fresh water flows out of millions of feet burst water pipes causing flooding in apartments, office buildings and under the street. The head of the city’s water department tells the Mayor they have to turn off the flow of fresh water in order to protect their supply, most of the water flowing into the city is pouring out of the broken pipes. The Mayor has no choice but to authorize stopping the flow of fresh water into his city.
The temperature on January 11th rises above freezing in the North East; the snow begins to melt, causing additional flooding. Thousands are sick from drinking dirty water further overloading the city’s emergency medical staff and filling the already full hospitals.
Everywhere the Mayor looks he sees the destruction, suffering, and illness. He doesn’t know how to respond, he’s never faced a situation like this; he doesn’t know what to do first, he begins yelling at his staff and firing any who question him. By 7:00 PM, New York City's departments, are being operated by fourth and fifth ranking people, many who’ve never managed a group more than twenty people. The city is imploding, the police can’t stop the crime; they no longer even respond to most calls,
At 9:00 PM, 107 citizens on Park Avenue have had enough, they’ve seen the city can’t provide them with security, or even the necessities like fresh water, they’ve been attacked eight times by different gangs. They’ve had enough; they arm themselves with bats, metal pipes and two small handguns they took off of dead gang members. Fires are lit around their group for light and warmth. Their leader who used to be a banker tells his neighbors, “Enough of this shit, next gang who tries to take what’s ours I’m killing. Who’s with me?” Everyone yells “I am.” The banker tells his neighbors to drag over debris to form a makeshift wall giving them some protection from roving gangs. At midnight, a gang and the citizens fight a pitched battle. The sun rises the next day showing 22 dead bodies on the street. NYPD arrives at the corner at 10: 30 AM, the sergeant, looks at the bodies, the bandaged people huddling around campfires, and he asks, “Who’s in charge of this mess?”
The banker steps forward saying, “I am.”
“I don’t know if I should arrest you or give you a metal, so tell you what, I didn’t see anything, get rid of these bodies before anyone else sees them. I have two cases of bottled water I can give you, sorry I have no food left.”
“Thanks, any idea when things will return to normal around here?”
“I wish I did, I’m not sure this isn’t going to be the new normal.”
“I wish we were armed.”
“I understand, but I can’t arm you, the LSA doesn’t allow armed citizens.”
“Yea, I know, I think it’s time to pack up and move.”
“I might just join you. New York is worse than the cities I saw in the sandbox when I was in the service. There’s dead everywhere; tens of thousands of buildings burned, hell most of the city resembles Beirut.”
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Closely following the snow plows and sanitation trucks are the Presidential security teams and the NYPD VIP protection detail, both are searching for President Obsma. On January 22nd they find him living in the tunnel. He doesn’t remember who he is, or what happened. A large area is cleared in front of the tunnel so a helicopter can land, picking up the President, transporting him to the Mount Sinai Medical Center. Three doctors are waiting outside on the heliport for him. They strap Obsma onto a stretcher taking him into the emergency room. The man they examine is fifteen pounds lighter, shaking, doesn’t remember who he is, he’s confused, thirsty and hungry. He asks, “Where’s Janice?”
One of the doctors asks, “Who’s Janice?”
“My friend, where I she?”
The doctor has no idea; he steps outside the room to speak with a police captain, “He’s asking for a Janice, was there a woman with him when he was found?”
“Doc, I don’t know, I’ll find out if there was should be bring her here?”
“Yes, it might make it easier for him to remember.”
“OK.”
The doctors determine the President has suffered a serious concussion and has memory loss. No one knows how long his amnesia will last. They admit him, clearing an entire wing of the hospital for his security.
Acting President Reid is informed President Obsma has been rescued, however, due to his head injuries Reid is going to have to remain in office a little longer.
“Nanny, they found him. However he can’t remember anything, not even who he is.”
“Harold, where is he?”
“Mount Sinai in New York City. I’m going to fly there to see him.”
“We’ll both go.”
“One of us should stay here to run the country, I’ll go, you stay as the acting VP.”
“Harold what happens if he doesn’t recover?”
“Then we can drop the acting from our titles.”
“That would be nice.”
Reid lands at the Martin Luther King Airport, he’s taken by helicopter to Mount Sinai. Meeting with the doctors, he learns no one knows when or even if President Obsma will regain his memory. The man in the bed doesn’t look like Obsma, he’s shaking; he has no idea who he is, and Reid is also told that he has aids.
Reid decides the best place for the President is a special recovery hospital outside of LA. He makes arrangements for the Obsma to be transported to a private hospital. A hospital he controls. Obsma will never be discharged from the hospital. He’ll be kept sedated for the rest of his life or until Reid decides a better use for him.
“Nanny I’m returning. I saw Obsma; the poor man is very ill, I’m having him transferred to that small private health care facility we spoke about. I know he’ll get the best treatment there; they’ll watch over him 24 hours a day. I called them to make sure they can take him under their care. They were full but assured me they’ll make room for him, they’ll put their best staff on his case.”
“Harold, I agree with you. You have such a big heart. When will you be returning?”
“This evening. I’ll see you when I land; I think we should inform the people we found him. I have a video of the poor man we’ll show to the people. I’m going to declare a national day of service in his honor. I’m going to ask everyone to work a day helping others for Obsma. He always was so keen on people volunteering their time.”
“That’s a wonderful idea. When the poor man passes, we’ll declare a national holiday in his honor.”
“Not too fast Nanny, we have to give the poor man time to recover, we’ll see how he’s doing in a couple of months.”
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Reid addresses the LSA with the wonderful news their founder and President for life; Obsma has been found! He was located taking shelter in a tunnel. The bad news is he’s suffered a head injury and has lost his memory. Reid tells the nation Obsma has been admitted to a private recovery hospital outside of LA where he’ll get the best care the LSA can provide. In the interim He, Harold Reid is assuming the role of President with the support from Nanny Polsi. Reid promised to provide the nation monthly updates on their founder and loved President for life Obsma.
President Brownstone and Rash Linebacker Watch Reid’s address while he’s explaining the condition of the poor Obsma, Rash loses it, he laughs so hard he coughs up his coffee. The President looks over at Rash; Brownstone is laughing at Rash so hard he starts coughing. The Secret Service hears an uproar in the Oval Office they burst in ready for anything. They pull up in front of the two men who’re laughing and slapping each other on their backs. The senior agent in charge says, “Mr. President is everything OK?”
Still laughing, the President says, “Yes, yes, thank you. Rash, you OK?”
“Yes, I’m laughing, OK.”
“Sir, do you need anything?”
“We’re fine, thanks. Since you’re on duty outside the office, I guess you didn’t hear the latest out of the LSA.”
“No sir, did something happen? Did they find President Obsma?”
“Yes, they found him living in a tunnel in New York City, he’s lost all memory, he has no idea who he is or what happened. Acting President Harold Reid is having President Obsma sent to a private hospital in the hills outside of LA. You may recognize the name, the Silver Institute.”
“Sir, THE Silver Institute? The one, the CIA and FBI, used to stash people they wanted to make disappear?”
“The very same.”
“N
ow I understand what’s so funny. If you’ll excuse me, sir,” Trying to hold back laughing the senior agent in charge leaves the Oval Office closing the door behind him.
Rash tells the President, “Well I guess that’s the last we’ll see of Obsma. I wonder how long Reid will wait before the poor man passes.”
“Rash, issue a release expressing our hope for a speedy recovery.”
“Yes sir, I can’t wait to see the press’ faces.”
“Rash, let me ask you a question, do you think we should break President Obsma out of the rehab center? Let our doctor’s check him out?”
“Mr. President, if we did that I’m sure Reid will make up a story that we kidnaped Obsma; or we set up an actor to play the role of Obsma for political reasons. Even if President Obsma makes it, will anyone believe us?”
