“Plural?” asked the general.
“Multiple nuclear devices, sir. I am also getting information that they were not missiles. This was a land based attack.” The young man then looked back to his computer screen while typing furiously.
The president remained still and quite, although the general quickly realized the look on her face was not one of apathy or confusion. It was blind rage. It was the type of white hot rage that the general had seen many times during combat. Unlike the soldiers though, the president had much more than a K-Bar utility knife and a modified M-4 carbine at her disposal.
Without looking away from the images shown on the screen, the general asked, “did your computer scans turn up any new information?”
Through gritted teeth, Beth Thomas responded, “No. It was as if whoever took control of Unified Korea’s weapons had anticipated our tactic. The system found nothing except a series of messages that were empty and placed around in just such a fashion to let us know that they knew we were looking. It’s preposterous as the technology we used isn’t public. Hell, Dana, outside of this room no one even knows it was possible to scan like that.”
The general bristled at the use of his first name but quickly brushed it off.
Another aide walked up to the side of the president, this one was wearing a crisp Air Force uniform, and leaned down, “Ma’am, DEFCON status?”
“Go to DEFCON 2.” She looked up and the screen switched off the image of the smoke and dust filled ruined city and brought back up the faces of the leaders of the various branches of the military as well as the intelligence agencies. “I need intel on this now! We will be striking back!” she said just as her fist came crashing down onto the table hard enough to startle the others in the meeting.
One of the men, obviously an intelligence spook given his dark black suit instead of formal military dress, stood up in the virtual screen. “Ma’am, the chatter didn’t lead anyone to believe this was a legitimate risk, especially after the attempts with the Korean missiles. We can’t rule out the possibility that this was homegrown.”
The president’s eyes turned into icy slits as she glared at the man. “We’re not talking about box trucks full of fertilizer. This was a coordinated nuclear strike. Find out who did it.”
The analyst went slightly green as her anger fell upon him, but without wavering he responded, “We are combing through satellite imagery now. We will know a great deal more soon. At the moment, all we have to go on are these pictures, but that will change quickly.”
Unlike the others, the general had lived in this facility for years and was intimately familiar with all of its many abilities. “Shunka, run the satellite images in real time and go back 30 minutes. Identify the bomb locations around Chicago.”
Immediately, the screen began changing and blurred for almost a full second. A new image solidified in front of them. It was the city of Chicago with a dozen red dots scattered all around the city, but in a type of grid. The general noticed that none of them were near the lake. He imagined that the attackers would not have wanted to waste destructive blast radius out over the water. It was very smart.
“Excellent, Shunka. Now please tell me what sequence the bombs detonated in, or was it all at once?” The general had taken command of this meeting and no one seemed to mind as they watched him interact with the AI system.
“Sir, the detonations occurred within 1/50th of a second of each other.”
The general nodded slowly as the all the people in the meeting, both real and virtual, heard the words. “This has military precision written all over it.” The general began pacing in the room. “I think they are testing our fences.” He looked back out over the blank faced audience. “They are gauging our response. First, they tested our aerial defense shield after bringing down our primary response. Now, they have tested our terrestrial defense against a land based attack. We have nuclear detectors in some large cities, but Chicago was probably never deemed a high value target, not compared to Boston and New York.” He spoke with a confidence gained from years of studying military strategy.
The president stood up and looked him square in the eyes. “Why don’t I have you in that room?” she said as she pointed to the vid screen that showed the Joint Chiefs tucked away in NORAD.
The chief of naval operations snorted slightly and said “Because he didn’t want it.”
The president looked down briefly at her files, then drew in a breath. “We are done here until we have more information. I need to make a television statement to the nation. I assume we are ready for that.”
Her press secretary and small group of speech writers glanced at each other briefly and nods were exchanged. One of them said, “It will be ready in ten minutes ma’am. We will prep the broadcast room and have everything ready to go live in twenty.”
“Good. General, I don’t understand why you are stuck out here in this place, but I would like you to stick close to me. I have a feeling you will be helpful.” She clacked the heavy paper file twice on the table and then handed it over to a waiting aide. “We are going to find whoever is doing all this and we are going to end them. I don’t care what it takes and I don’t care about the consequences. Maybe a nuclear winter is just what it will take to slow this damn climate change.”
+++
The general leaned back in his oversized office chair. He was pleased to have a moment of peace and quiet. With the events from earlier in the day, he was comfortable pouring more of his 25 year old bottle of entirely too expensive scotch. He clearly remembered the day it was gifted to him. The president of the previous administration had had it wrapped and waiting for him on the top of his new desk, the very first day he had walked into the office he had held for the past decade.
It had been a bittersweet gift and the general knew it. The president had wanted him to take the roll of the Chief of Staff to the Army. The general had refused, and put in for a transfer to this facility. He knew it may have been his way of running away, but he was just so damned tired of all the politics.
When he had first enlisted, it was about defending the country. As he climbed the ranks, the priority seemed to shift in his mind. He saw people not making decisions that were best for the nation, but instead, they did what was best for their political party. What really rankled him was when he openly saw someone do something that only served to make the other political party look bad. He had grown tired of it all, but wasn’t willing to retire.
As he poured the amber liquid onto the four square ice cubes, he watched it cascade down and fill in all the little gaps between the ice. The frozen cubes themselves let out crackles as they fought against the sudden change of surface temperature. He could smell the peat and the salt air that this scotch was best known for as he raised it to his mouth. He relished his quiet time and his scotch, even if this scotch was rapidly becoming synonymous with a nuclear strike. He hoped he would never finish the bottle. He hoped he would never open it again, as a matter of fact.
“Sir, I am sorry to interrupt you, but you are getting a hail from Director Fallo of the European facility.”
“Don’t suppose you can tell him I’ve just stepped out, eh?” the old general grumbled.
“I cannot sir, he can see your current location using his AI system.”
“Well, that’s wonderful.” he said. After taking another sip of his scotch, he rolled it around on his tongue, allowing the flavors to overwhelm his palate. With a pleased grin, he said “Well, pipe the little weasel through, let’s see what he wants.”
As the video screen blazed to life, the general could see a haggard looking Director Fallo. He was not cleanly shaven as normal, nor did he even remotely appear healthy. “Bahn, sorry to hear about your city of Chicago.”
The general nodded politely, knowing Fallo was not normally one to consider others. “Christ man, you look like you’ve been through the wringer and back out.” He held up his small tumbler of scotch and jiggling it, causing the ice to clink against
the sides. “I’d pour you one of these, but I don’t think the computers could get it to you.”
“We have been living aboard the submarine.”
The general put his drink down gently on his wooden topped desk. He knew that the European facility had a next generation nuclear submarine as part of their layout, but it was his understanding that it was basically just docked there to provide a nearly endless source of power. He wasn’t aware that it was setup for anyone to live on. The general remembered all the times he had toured subs, even the largest subs in the American fleet, and how cramped they had seemed. “I’m sorry to hear that. Did something happen to your facility?”
“The facility is fine, it’s the damn virus. We came here at first as a means of quarantining ourselves. Bahn, millions are dead across Europe. It is unbelievable!” Fallo sighed and smoothed his shirt down his chest with his hands. Apparently, he had suddenly become aware of his physical appearance. “It is not easy on this sub. We had grown so accustomed to the AI of the facility, and the space…but this was our only option.”
The general had never much cared for Fallo, but seeing him in this state, nearly broken, he could only pity him. “Is there something I could do on my end? Do you still have full control of your AI from the sub?”
Fallo had regained himself and was now sitting stick straight and looking into the camera. “Not that I can think of. While we don’t have full control of the system from the sub, as long as we stay within a nautical mile, we can broadcast to it and make a connection. That’s how I made this call, as a matter of fact.” Fallo’s face grew grim, and the general could witness his jaw clench and unclench several times thanks to the fidelity of the video screen. In a much softer voice, the director asked, “Bahn, do your people have something to do with this virus?”
The general felt his blood pressure rise as he stared in shock at the little man he had just been feeling pity for. He started to speak several times, but caught himself each time. Finally, he took another sip of scotch, trying to put himself in the position of this man who was obviously at the end of his rope. “No. This appears to be natural, in fact. It came right out of the melting ice. Now, we can debate who caused the ice to melt if you want to,” he said in a dry tone.
“I didn’t mean to offend.” The European director lost the little bit of color from his face as he realized the true nature of his question. “Of course, that sounded terrible. I didn’t mean to imply that you were doing it on purpose. I…I just don’t understand what has happened to Europe. So many of my countrymen…”
The general had gone back to pitying the man with the beady little eyes. “Look, we are working on the virus as quickly as we can. We have made good progress right here in the facility. The AI system is proving invaluable with the work.” The general then went on to explain everything he had learned recently to the shattered man. It was not easy to do, although it did seem to bring the man a small bit of relief. He cringed when he went over some of the models for fatality across the world. He didn’t know how to tell someone that as many as 100 million people on their continent were likely to die.
Director Fallo listened to it all. He stated that their own researchers had come to some of the same conclusions, but the treatment avenues that Laurel had been going down were far more advanced. Finally, after the general wrapped up his briefing of the viral situation, he asked a question of his own. “Have you heard anything about these nuclear strikes? Any news of what might have happened in Korea? Any chatter about the bombing in Chicago?”
Fallo hesitated, obviously, tossing something around in his head. “All I have heard is that it was cyber espionage. A type far more advanced than any believed even possible. Many of the European systems have simply been taken offline. We can’t even begin to handle a situation similar to yours while fighting this plague.”
The general nodded and looked absent mindedly off at the wall. After taking his last gulp of scotch, his eyes brightened as he looked back at the screen. “Thank you, Fallo, you have given me something to explore.”
Fallo nodded in return and said, “We need to keep each other up to date more, share more information to try to figure out the probl…”
The general sat forward in his chair, confused. “Shunka, what the hell just happened? Where did he go?”
“I’m sorry sir, we seem to have lost the connection.”
“Lost the connection? An AI just dropped a call?”
“Sir, Director Fallo did mention he was on a submarine.”
“Yes, he did,” said the general. “That makes perfect sense, doesn’t it?” The general noticed he was starting to sweat more as his idea was forming in his mind. Glancing back to the camera, he said quietly to the AI system, “Thank you for all you do, Shunka.”
20
Kate was outside the facility, basking in the sunshine of a new day. Everyone had heard about what had happened in Chicago and most had been awake watching the news programs all evening. Laurel had told her that she had contacted her relatives that lived a hundred miles from the now ruined city. They had made it through okay, but were scared. Kate couldn’t even begin to imagine being in their position.
Jeep trotted to catch up to her. He was holding an entire flowering plant, root and all, that he had ripped from the ground. He thrust it out in front of him as a way to give her the quickly wilting mass.
As she reached out and took the dirty mess she said, “Gosh, Jeep, you southern boys sure do know the way into a woman’s heart.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. “You’re supposed to pick the daisies and wrap them in a wet paper towel before you hand them to the lady.”
Kate watched his cheeks flush with color at her joke. “Yeah…I’m not giving you flowers. Consider it the Swiss Army knife of medicinal plants.” He took the plant back from her and began pointing at its various parts. “The root is edible and not too bitter if you pick it early enough. The flowers can be used to treat a persistent cough, as well as increase healing time.” He seemed proud if his knowledge. “The Native Americans used this plant for tons of stuff.”
“Oh. Did they paddle their canoes over to Europe? That’s where the Ox-eye daisy is native. The Europeans brought it here.”
Jeep seemed like someone had just popped his balloon. “Well, this is just the stuff they taught us in the class on medicinal plants. I thought you might want to know more of it since it appears the world is going to hell in a hand basket.” He dropped the plant unceremoniously on the ground and trudged in front of her.
She picked it back up and walked beside him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be snarky. I have actually been reading through all the files on survival that Shunka will let me see. It’s very interesting. This plant sticks out for me because my grandfather was a botanist and always railed against the exotic plants, even rather benign ones like this. He would talk until he was red in the face about garlic mustard, bush honeysuckle, and even invasive fish, like Asian carp.”
“Carp are nasty things. Around my hometown in Southeastern Missouri we have the ones that jump out of the water; those are the Asian carp I think. They’re a real problem.”
“There’s no doubt about that. They’re food, though. Why don’t people just eat them?”
Jeep chuckled at her and said, “Well, your granddad may have disliked exotic plants, but mine had a killer recipe for Asian carp. See, first you cube the carp up, being really careful to remove all the dark veins and everything else that isn’t bright white meat.” Kate watched as Jeep went through the story with hand gestures. She could see it was a very important story to him. “Then, now this is the strange part, you marinate those fritters in vinegar, black pepper, lots of salt and good couple handfuls of horse manure.”
Kate was quickly pulled out of the story. “Wait, did you say horse manure?”
“Yeah, just listen to the whole story, ok? This is a proven recipe for carp.” Jeep went back to his instructions. “Now, after a good 24 hour marinade, you want to dump the who
le mix into a big cast iron skillet.” Jeep chuckled again as he began the next bit. “My granddad would always say this was a great use for the ‘new’ cast iron that they were making with the proprietary sprayed on seasoning. That stuff was terrible. Anyway, cook it all up good in that skillet. Then, just before you eat it, pick out all the carp, throw it away and eat the horse manure marinade. It will taste far better than the carp ever did!”
Kate got lost in the story for a second and didn’t realize it was a joke until Jeep began slapping his own legs and letting out that deep southern laugh. His hooting seemed to bounce off the rock bluffs on the other side of the runway and race back to meet up with them.
She slapped him on the shoulder. “I thought you were serious!”
“I think he might have been serious. Carp tastes awful.”
“It’s a fish, I’m sure I could eat it if I was hungry enough.”
“Agreed, but I would have to be really hungry.” Holding the now thoroughly wilted plant, root pointing up, he said, “and if I was hungry enough, I could eat this thing.” Then he cast the limp and lifeless flowers to the ground. “But I sure as hell don’t want to eat it now.”
They walked along in silence for a few moments until they hit the outer perimeter. It was the edge of the area they were allowed to walk to in case of another lockdown, which was highly likely.
Kate looked over at Jeep and said, “You know, if those alarms went off again, I don’t know if I would run as hard to get back.”
Jeep looked over at her; he was unable to hide the shock on his face. “You’re doing important work with Laurel!”
“Not really. Don’t get me wrong, Laurel is doing extremely important work, and I was fairly busy at first when she was synthesizing the virus. Now she is mainly running computer models with Shunka, though.” Kate suddenly perked up. “I had assumed that my services as a grief counselor would be needed, but most of the staff here doesn’t seem to have any family in the outside world. I saw a few people who were badly shaken up because of the general destruction, but they mostly just wanted some meds and to get back to work. I am still seeing a few of them for sessions and that’s going well. ”
Finding Their Path (Down The Path Book 3) Page 12
