by Ira Tabankin
Two days after the Caliphate’s announcement, a massive snow storm buries a third of the country under eighteen to thirty-six inches of snow, Washington D.C. and New York City are buried under 31 inches, the heavy wet snow brings power and phone lines down. By sundown, eighteen million people are cold and scared without power. Riots quickly erupt due to the heavy snow. Local stores are broken into and looted, most are torched and allowed to burn out of control in the storm. The gusty winds spread the flames, making additional thousands homeless. Homeless shelters are already filled to capacity due the lack of electricity, there’s no place to put the newly homeless from the fires. Streets aren’t plowed forcing many families to try to seek shelter on foot. Hundreds of bodies are found three days later when the snow begins melting.
The media demands answers, President Clayton blames the deaths on the right for not supporting her programs. She claims it’s the “vast right wing conspiracy” which is causing the country its current problems.
Chapter 5
Ali Muhammad Tanvir laughs watching the American’s frustration and confusion shown on the news programs around the world, the media’s common thought is, this is the final fall of America. He smiles at his staff,
“Praise be to Allah. Everyone has done a wonderful job. I am very pleased, we have shown the world we have to be respected, the price of gold is soaring as is our national reserves. We still have the pending issue of Egypt on the table. We’ve lost eighteen warships, twenty-eight hundred tanks, more APCs than I thought possible. The last causality report I saw said we’ve lost over one-hundred-ten-thousand people all for not a millimeter of ground gained. In fact, we’ve lost ground. Egypt is laughing at us, they have agreed to funnel oil from their ports to the west, undercutting us. We can’t allow this; we must close the flow of oil to the infidels. What are we going to do about Egypt? How are we going to bring them under our control without another loss of men and material?”
The Field Marshal smiles,
“Your Holiness, we have an idea which will surely force Egypt to surrender and join us.”
“Please share it with us, I’m all ears.”
“Your Holiness, we have a supply of nuclear weapons which came to us via Pakistan, we suggest using them to take out Egypt’s rulers, once their leaders are dead their people will willingly join us.”
“Not if their people think we used nuclear weapons on their soil. Using nuclear weapons on brother Muslims will make us look as bad as the Westerners. No, we can’t use nukes on Egypt.”
“Your Holiness, we plan to leak that the Great and Little Satan nuked them.”
“Why would anyone believe the Great and Little Satan used nuclear weapons against Egypt after the damned Jews helped Egypt?”
“Who cares what reason we give, our people will believe us, the whore will scream it wasn’t her, who will believe the whore of Satan?”
“An excellent point. I want to study this plan. One concern I have is the Little Satan may use their weapons against us. They have a treaty with Egypt. The Jews showed the world they will honor their treaties. We have to be sure they won’t strike us.”
“Yes, your excellency.”
Walking around the conference room, the Prime Minister pauses midway through his fourth lap, his staff knows his pacing means he’s thinking through a plan. He pauses mid-step looking at the Field Marshal,
“How many weapons do we have?”
“Your Holiness, Pakistan had 75 weapons. The infidels thought they had between 30 and 50. Pakistan was able to hide most of their nuclear material from the western spies. The infidels sent their special forces into Pakistan supported by the Indian Army to retrieve her weapons before we could get all of them; we were successful in getting twenty-five of them. Not all of them are fully functional. Some of the weapons were stored in sections which will need reassembly before they can be used.”
“What’s the yield of the warheads we recovered?”
“Most are small, in the range of 10 to 30 kilotons, similar to the weapons the Great Satan used on Japan at the end of the Second World War.”
His pace around the room increases, a smile forms on his face, his staff relax seeing his smile.
“Field Marshal, help educate me, how can these weapons be delivered? What is required to detonate them? Do we have the means to deliver them to targets in Europe, Russia, and America? Maybe we can get the Great and Minor Satan to fight each other. We force them to fight each other. They’ll kill each other off allowing us to move in and take over what’s left of the world. The survivors will do anything we ask in exchange for our aid.”
“Holiness, I need to check the ranges against our inventory of missiles, could you share the target list you’re thinking of?”
“First, seal the room so no one disturbs us, we can’t afford any outside ears to hear what we next discuss in this room.”
“Yes, sir. Guards, seal this room, no one enters, no one is to interrupt us. Is that clear?”
They snap to attention, exiting the conference room, the guards seal the doors behind them.
“Yes, sir.”
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The Israeli defense committee meets in one of Israel’s deep underground bunkers. The bunker is one of a series of command and control shelters designed to survive a direct hit on the surface from a small nuclear weapon. The Prime Minister, Defense Minister, and the Director of Mossad aren’t happy people.
The Prime Minister is tired, having been awake for twenty-eight hours,
“How is it we failed to grab all of the Pakistan nuclear weapons? What went wrong, what happened?”
The equally tired Director of Mossad looked at his lifelong friend, “Bibi, we sent four teams, the Indians sent six teams, the Americans sent two SEAL teams. We were tipped off by two of their Generals where all of their weapons were stored. When we got to the weapons bunker, we discovered most of the weapons had already been removed. The Pakistanis put up a hell of a fight, we lost two teams, the American SEALs saved our people’s lives. The Indians lost all of their people. We were able to retrieve almost fifty weapons, more than we thought Pakistan owned. We think the Caliphate retrieved twenty to twenty-five weapons.”
“Was it a trick? Did they screw with us so we’d lose our best field agents?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t. I’ve tried to review everything we knew about the Generals and where the Pakistanis usually stored their weapons. We even checked with our contacts in India’s intelligence community who wanted nothing more than to dispose of Pakistan’s WMDs. They confirmed the warehouse we were tipped off to is where their intelligence agencies also thought the weapons were stored. The Caliphate acted quicker than we thought they would, they arrived before us, with overwhelming force. They knew we were coming, they set a trap for us, one we blindly walked into.”
“Damn it. We have to locate the missing weapons, we can be sure that if the Caliphate has the weapons and the release codes, they will use them against us. We need to disperse our weapons and make the arrangements for our counterstrike. We must protect our people from the Caliphate’s strike. I won’t allow our people to be murdered again, not like the Holocaust, which a nuclear strike on us will be. We have to find a way to stop the Caliphate from using the Pakistani weapons. I don’t care if we have to use all of our weapons to destroy the Caliphate in order to stop them from attacking us.”
The Defense Minister stands to stretch his tired muscles, “Do we have any idea where their WMDs are now? If we could locate them, we could bomb them. Before you say anything about spreading the nuclear material, what do we care about spreading it over their land, versus the weapons being used to kill our people?”
“If I knew for sure where they were, I’d tell you and I’d agree to anything to see them removed from the chess board.” Replies the tired Director of Mossad.
Bibi looks at his friend, “FIND THEM. Finding and destroying them may be the only thing that stands between our survival and destruction.”
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“Yes, sir.”
“Moshe, I know how tired you and all of us are. We’re fighting for our lives; this is the Never Again we all swore an oath to God we’d do everything possible to never allow to happen. All of our people’s lives depend on us locating and destroying the weapons. Do you think the Americans know where they are?”
“After Obama and now Clayton, the Americans most likely don’t even know where their own weapons are.”
“Point taken. Let’s get some rest and meet back here in four hours. Keep our forces on war alert, make sure our anti-missile systems are at one hundred percent.”
“Of course.”
All nod their agreement. Bibi is too tired to get up and walk the five hundred meters to his wartime underground quarters. He lays down on the couch in his office. He’s quickly fast asleep, an aide covers him with a blanket, unties his shoes and turns out the light in the office. Looking at the sleeping Prime Minister she says a prayer for his health and strength so the country of Israel is able to survive.
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Ms. Clayton is yelling orders to different people on the phone, the more people who call with questions and suggestions the more frazzled she gets, she was never good making rapid decisions under pressure, her mind closes down in fear. She isn’t able to make any decisions; she tells everyone she’ll call them back.
She passes her breaking point when the Oval Office door opens, and a smiling Bill Clayton enters looking around the office. He drawls in his gravely voice,
“I like the new carpet, a little dark for my tastes, but you’ve always had darker tastes than mine. How are you holding up?”
Hillary throws a stapler at Bill,
“You son of a bitch! You allowed yourself to be recorded! Are you crazy? Do you realize what you’ve done?”
Bill sits down on one of the couches, he puts his feet on the coffee table, “I see you haven’t changed the tables or lamps.”
“Shut the fuck up, You’ve ruined my Presidency!”
“Listen up bitch, you ruined it the moment you decided to go around the government rules and used your own server. You thought if you used the State Department server, Obama would have control over you, he could screw you whenever he wanted to by leaking your emails to make you look bad. He was afraid you’d run against him in 2012. You should have been smart enough to know if you mishandled classified information they’d hang you out to dry. I told you not to take the position of SecState. You didn’t listen.”
“NOTHING WAS MARKED CLASSIFIED!”
“Of course, it wasn’t. I assume you had Huma or Cheryl strip the headings. You know that doesn’t matter, information is information. I warned you to be careful. I told you not to work for Obama. I told you it could backfire. What do they have on you?”
“I really don’t know.”
“You didn’t keep a copy of all of your emails? You really don’t know what they have hanging over your head?”
“I thought once deleted, they’re gone.”
“Come on, we both know you’re smarter than that. I assume your friends in Moscow and Beijing both have copies and have already started blackmailing you.”
“Yes, how did you know? Is it bad?”
“Don’t talk to me about getting caught with a couple of escorts. Everyone knows I’m a sex addict, in a day my story will be old news. But you, you’re going to be the news item until the House impeaches you. If the Caliphate releases emails which show you harmed the country, they WILL put you in jail. The Republicans will be overjoyed to have finally nailed a Clayton to the wall.”
“They wouldn’t dare. I’m the President!”
“I assume you will be for at least another month if you’re lucky you might make it six months. Look at the bright side, we’re going to go down in history as the only husband and wife to both hold the office and both be impeached. We’ll be studied in schools for generations. At least, I beat the charges against me. I was liked by the people, you have a bigger problem, frankly my dear, you’re not likable. The House is sharpening their knives; they’re exchanging favors to see who’s going to file against you. Have you considered resigning?”
“Never! I worked forty years to sit behind this desk, I’m not going to give it up. They’ll have to pry me out of this chair with a crowbar.”
“Hillary, they’re going to pry you out of that chair with a blow torch. You’re not going to survive this, do you feel bad about your VP choice now? You’re going to be putting him in the chair.”
“I didn’t have a choice it was the only way I could win.”
“You didn’t win, you bought the election.”
“What can you do to get me out of the mess?”
“Not a damn thing. I’m not going to ruin my legacy having it said I helped to bring the country down. I hope you have a nice day. I’m sure you know I never moved in, I stopped by to tell you I’ll be filing divorce papers against you.”
“What?! You can’t, it’ll look like your throwing me to the sharks.”
“I am. We had a political marriage, we’ve both gone as far as we could, there’s no need for us to keep this sham of a marriage any longer. About the only thing, we have in common is we both like young women.”
“What about the fund?”
“It’s a fund to help developing nations, the last time I checked you weren’t a developing nation, I can’t give you any of the fund or it will be proof we raised the money for our own use. Handing you part of the fund will sink me too. I’m not going down for you, nor am I going to jail for you.”
“You’re a bastard, do you remember how many times I kept the women you raped off your back? Do you remember how I handled the Whitewater problem? Or how about the little issue when you were President and you had an issue with the personnel office? Do you remember how I handled the payoffs to all of your women? I helped raise over two hundred million, I want at least one hundred million of it, or I won’t agree to a divorce.”
“You’ll agree, I’m sure of it.”
“How can you say that?”
Bill smiles holding up his iPhone,
“I recorded our entire conversation, I also had our conversation copied to a voice mailbox, if you don’t sign the papers, I’ll release the recording. The House will be overjoyed with your admission you illegally raised money and you bought the election. I’m sure the FBI will be happy to look into certain people’s disappearances and deaths.”
“You’re a grade A shithead, when will I see the papers?”
“After the current crisis has blown over, I won’t add to your public woes.”
“At least, you’re not a total shithead.”
“Thanks, just so you know, I’ll be staying in New York City.”
“Will you publicly stand by me when they begin impeachment against me.”
“No, and frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn what they do to you...I always wanted to say that! Goodbye, Hillary. Good luck, you’re going to need it.” Bill laughs walking out of the Oval Office.
Chapter 6
The crisis and oil embargo cause the price of gasoline to quickly soar in price, the average price per liter in Europe quickly reaches €10.00, in America, the average price quickly surges to $15.00 a gallon. Public transportation adds fuel surcharges; the high fuel costs rapidly spread through the economy. The cost of everything shoots up, family budgets are squeezed. Due to high fuel costs, electrical and food prices, families’ discretionary spending sharply declines. The impact is many businesses are forced to either lay off employees or close; subsequently increasing the already soaring unemployment rate. As more people become unemployed, spending is further reduced causing additional layoffs. Home foreclosures begin to climb past 2008 levels. The unemployment numbers jump by more than 700,000 a week. In her first few weeks in office, Ms. Clayton finds herself fighting for her political life. The Caliphate releases the first few emails from her server which the CIA sadly confirms are SAP files, a classification above Top Secret. An unn
amed source at the CIA confirms that one of the agents named in the released email was tortured to death in Colombia. His cover was blown by the hacking of Hillary’s private email server.
The House of Representatives quickly files Articles of Impeachment against Ms. Clayton, the Articles are cosigned by four hundred members of the House making it one of the few bipartisan bills to sail through the House. The Articles constantly have to be updated with every email the Caliphate releases. Even the progressive media turns against the President. Headlines and editors call on her to resign in order to save the country the pain and embarrassment of a public trial. Her donors tell her to resign or they’ll fund the marketing campaign against her.
The stress on Ms. Clayton gives her debilitating migraines every day, she quickly becomes addicted to pain medication. She spends most of her day locked in the Oval Office seeing only her Chief of Staff who is also served with a subpoena. The State Department confiscates Huma’s passport so she can’t leave the country. State informs Ms. Clayton, Huma is not allowed to reenter the country if she leaves, even if she’s on Air Force One.
