Dead Storm: The Global Zombie Apocalypse

by Nicholas Ryan

  The thought gave Xiang a moment of unsettling pause. He flicked a frown at Yi Dan. The old Minister without Portfolio lit another cigarette but said nothing. He was watching Tong Ge the way a scientist studies a particularly fascinating laboratory specimen.

  “Then what would you have us do, Tong?” the President demanded.

  Tong Ge drew a deep breath. His heart started racing. He sensed the moment teetered on a knife-edge.

  “We are Chinese, President Xiang. While westerners live for today and think never of tomorrow, we know better. We are wiser. We are patient and we plan for a future. We should remember that now. The undead that have ravaged all of Asia show no signs yet of dying out. We might be stranded on the world’s oceans for months, or even longer before the land is again safe to habitat. We must husband our emotions and hide them away. We must think first of tomorrow and set aside the petty conflicts of today. When we are strong again, we can turn our thoughts to revenge. But to fight a war when we are so severely disabled and disadvantaged is not the Chinese way.”

  The room remained tense but silent. Tong Ge could see conflict and impotent frustration play across the President’s face. He laid down his final card.

  “For many years we Chinese have endured Taiwan’s petulant resistance to unification. We have been patient and tolerated their provocations and their alliances with the Americans, because we have always taken the view that today never matters. Tomorrow is all that is important. I urge you to take that view in this situation.”

  “You forget the Americans, Tong Ge,” Yi Dan said into the silence, his face shrouded by swirling tendrils of smoke haze.

  “No, honored Minister, I have not,” Tong Ge countered. “I accept that right now the Americans are having the same tense debate that we are having. And I believe there are many American generals who would be urging their political masters to all-out war. But the American President is the key to their decision. A phone call to the White House right now can deescalate this conflict – but it must be now, President Xiang. The longer the delay, the greater the chances this conflict will intensify beyond anyone’s power to control.”

  President Xiang closed his eyes and stood straight-backed in the center of the room for long dramatic moments. Tong Ge held his breath while he waited. He could hear his blood pounding at his temples and feel sweat coat his palms.

  When he opened his eyes again, the President seemed calmer, deflated. “I will make the phone call,” he said thinly.

  SITUATION ROOM

  THE WHITE HOUSE

  “Christ!” President Austin sat stone-faced and rigid as he listened to the account from COMSEVENTHFLT in the South China Sea.

  Vice Admiral Duggan filed his urgent report via satellite link. The President felt the blood drain away from his face as he listened in stunned silence. America and China were hurtling towards all-out war.

  “So Hacksaw is undamaged? There are no casualties?”

  “No, Mr. President,” Duggan confirmed. “The ship’s defense systems were able to negate all the Chinese missiles effectively.”

  President Austin drew a deep breath and pushed himself out of his chair. He felt the sudden need to pace the floor. His tie hung loose around his collar, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

  The Chinese had launched an unprovoked attack. President Austin was resolved that America would not back down.

  For too long the Chinese had been allowed to flaunt and violate international shipping treaties, and at every point of dispute previous American administrations had flinched away from confrontation.

  President Patrick Austin would stand his ground.

  He turned suddenly, his decision made. He was about to order the Seventh Fleet’s air wing to launch a strike against the Chinese Fleet. Jim Poe came into the conference room from the outer office furiously waving a piece of paper in his hand.

  “Mr. President! Mr. President! The Chinese President is calling.”

  Patrick Austin looked down at the blinking red light on the desktop phone. Walter Ford came into the room, his face full of worry and agitation.

  President Austin snatched up the handset and stabbed the red button with his finger.

  In the corner of the room, watching on, Walter Ford asked in a breathless whisper: “What’s happening?”

  “The other guy just blinked,” Jim Poe stole a famous quote and smiled with triumph and relief. “China’s President Xiang is on the phone. He’s called the White House to back down.”

  USS HALEY (DDG 137)

  NORTHERN MARIANA ISLANDS

  PHILLIPINE SEA

  In response to being abruptly summoned from the bridge, Tom Braye knocked discreetly on the Captain’s cabin door.

  “Enter.”

  Bud Slattery was seated at his desk. The cabin was a small space, sparsely decorated and cluttered with ship’s equipment on the bulkheads. Slattery sat back and gestured to an empty chair beside the desk. “XO, has Romeo-1 been recovered?”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “And the Ebony Sunrise?”

  “Course and speed unchanged, sir.”

  “Range?”

  “Twenty-eight nautical miles.”

  Slattery grunted. “I assume the ship has not responded to our attempts to hail her?”

  “No, sir,” the XO replied. “We’ve been trying every thirty minutes on VHF Channel 16. So far the ship has not replied.”

  The Captain scraped his fingers through his hair. Hailing the ship on the international distress frequency had been the last diligent attempt to avoid a military option. Now there was no other choice.

  “XO, what is your recommendation?”

  Tom Braye looked momentarily surprised by the question. “Sir, I think we have a range of options. We could call up Fleet Tactical and request an air strike launched off Nimitz or from Anderson AFB on Guam. We could stand off and sink the ship with a couple of Harpoon missiles… or we could arm the Seahawks with Hellfire’s…”

  Slattery nodded. “What option would you choose in this scenario, XO?”

  The young officer wondered if he was being tested. He frowned in careful calculation and then delivered his decision.

  “Sir, I would call in an air strike on Fleet Tactical. A couple of one thousand pound bombs would put the ship on the bottom. If we use Harpoons, we may need three or four, or even more to do the job. And any Hellfires launched from the Romeos would be even less effective against such a large target.”

  “Agreed,” Slattery said and got to his feet, suddenly filled with grim purpose. “Okay. Let’s go and make the call.”

  *

  The Captain strode into CIC with the XO trailing close behind him. He glanced at OPS and said, “Follow me.”

  The three men went down a ladder to the Communications Center.

  The Comm Center was the part of the ship that housed all of the Haley’s exterior communication black boxes. It was a well-lit space directly beneath the CIC and about half the size, manned by a combination of operators and maintenance technicians.

  “Attention on deck,” a young ITman announced as the Captain entered the space.

  “At ease,” Slattery responded. He made his way to a red handset hanging on the bulkhead, flanked by the XO and OPS.

  Slattery explained at last. “OPS, I’m calling in an air strike on Ebony Sunrise.”

  OPS kept a poker face. The decision was not entirely unexpected.

  Slattery picked up the red handset, surreptitiously watched by every eye in the space.

  “Bravo-Bravo, this is Hotel actual. Request permission to speak to Bravo-Bravo actual. Over.”

  Bravo-Bravo was the call sign for the Composite Warfare Commander charged with making all decisions relative to the use of deadly force in the combat area. He was a 1-star Admiral aboard USS Nimitz.

  “Hotel, this is Bravo-Bravo. Standby. Over.”

  With nothing else to do, the three officers stood like awkward strangers waiting idly for a bus. Slattery sensed the
operator’s and maintenance men’s curious eyes upon him and he made a conscious effort to keep his features composed in a rigid, confident mask. The sudden sound of the Admiral’s voice over the loudspeaker in Radio Central startled everyone.

  “Hotel, this is Bravo-Bravo actual,” the Admiral announced. He had a mid-west accent.

  “Bravo-Bravo, this is Hotel actual. Request an air strike on position 18 56 09 N, 142 08 52 E, contact is on course one-seven-five degrees true, speed fifteen knots. Over.”

  “Interrogative your request for an air strike? Over.”

  “Request for an air strike is to destroy a ship infected with the NK Plague on Iron Mike. Over.”

  “Interrogative your own ship weapons? Over.”

  “Own ship weapons aren’t big enough. Contact in question is Ebony Sunrise. Over.”

  “Roger. Standby.”

  Bud Slattery knew the Admiral was reviewing the ship information on the bulk freighter. He waited on the line patiently.

  “Hotel, this is Bravo-Bravo. Confirm infected ship and Iron Mike. Over.”

  “Confirmed infected ship visually from Romeo-1. No course or speed change in last three hours. Has not responded to Hotel hails on VHF Channel 16. Over.”

  “Roger. Standby.”

  The XO glanced discreetly down at his wristwatch. The fraught silence lasted for more than two tense minutes before the loudspeaker finally came alive again, the Admiral’s voice emotionless and sterile.

  “Hotel, this is Bravo-Bravo actual. Air strike affirmed,” the Admiral said. “Estimated time on top five-zero minutes. Over.”

  “Bravo-Bravo, this Hotel. Roger. Out.”

  Bud Slattery let out the tight breath he had been holding.

  NORTH ATLANTIC COUNCIL CONFERENCE ROOM

  NATO HEADQUARTERS

  BRUSSELS

  As the ambassadors to the twenty-nine NATO countries all took their seats at the great round table, there was a sense that a moment of decisive significance had arrived. Voices buzzed across the chamber. The atmosphere hummed with an electric tremor of anticipation.

  SACEUR and his German deputy sat beside the Chairman of the Military Committee. When everyone was settled the Secretary General rose and spoke.

  “This meeting has been called to debate the current apocalyptic plague that is sweeping the earth, and also to decide NATO’s response,” Konstantinos Korvelis announced in a booming accented voice. “As a consequence, we must also debate the implementation of Article Five that underpins this Alliance’s existence.”

  Article Four declared that any member state could convene a NATO meeting to consult whenever it felt its independence or security were threatened. It was the Article France had triggered to set this meeting in motion.

  Article Five was known as the ‘one-for-all and all-for-one’ article. It was the keystone to NATO. The Article stated that an armed attack against one member was an attack against all, and set in motion the possibility of a collective defense. Article Five had only ever been invoked once – immediately following the September 11 terrorist attacks against America.

  “To open the debate, I give the floor to the French ambassador, who called for the convening of this meeting.”

  Pierre Delcoise took a moment to sweep his eyes around the assembly of stoic faces. He knew them all, some better than others.

  “Secretary General, my fellow ambassadors, generals and colleagues. I come to you today not as a Frenchman, but as a proud citizen of Europe. We are under siege. The NK Plague has decimated more than half of the world’s population and infected them with a killing madness. Entire nations across Asia have been toppled. The biological weapon unleashed by the North Korean regime not only brought plague to mankind, it has created an evil army; a mindless maddened horde that spreads death to everyone it contacts.

  “And now…” the Frenchman paused suddenly. To his surprise, he realized his voice had begun to choke with emotion. He took a dramatic moment to compose himself before he went on. “And now, Europe stands on the threshold of extinction. China has been devastated. The infected have massed on the border to Russia. Death hangs over us all like a dark avalanche.

  “Unless we act as one – unless we band together and unite our armies – we cannot hope to survive. For too long we have thought only of our own national interests. I say those days are over!” he filled his voice with passion. “I say the time has come for us all to took left and right and see in those people seated beside us, not rivals, but brothers and sisters. As a European family we can take up arms together and fight. Divided… I promise you… we will surely fall. For all these reasons, and for the future of our families and our children, I implore the allies to agree to implement Article Five immediately.”

  It was one of the more memorable speeches in the chamber’s recent history. Delcoise sat back, emotionally exhausted.

  In the aftermath, the chamber remained unnaturally silent for many long seconds. Finally, Secretary General Korvelis called on the Turkish ambassador to speak.

  He was a tall, thin man with wisps of thinning grey hair. He snatched off his spectacles and polished them before he spoke. He made the usual formal acknowledgements and then his voice changed pitch, becoming reedy and almost breathless.

  “It is true that in the past, Turkey has been at odds with other member nations of this Alliance. It is true that often we have seen ourselves in positions that are diametrically opposed. But in this case, Turkey stands in solidarity with our French brothers and sisters. We add our own voice to France’s call for the implementation of Article Five against the undead army. The infected cannot be seen and sympathized for as victims – although victims they are. But they are also a ferocious enemy that must be fought and vanquished.

  “Turkey stands at the eastern gateway to Europe. It will be upon us that the undead horde first falls. We urgently call for our fellow NATO members to mobilize their armies and dispatch them east so that a strong and united defense can be formed under Turkish control.”

  SACEUR and the Chairman of the Military Committee exchanged wry glances. Once again, Turkey was demonstrating the kind of belligerent difficulties that the rest of the Alliance had come to expect. Turkey was impossible to defend, and no ally would surrender their troops to Turkish military leadership. The ambassador’s speech was a silk cloth draped over a steel trap.

  Konstantinos Korvelis quelled the rumble of dissent that rolled around the chamber. The Turkish ambassador folded his arms and scowled petulant defiance.

  The Ambassador for Italy caught the Secretary General’s attention. He acknowledged her with a nod.

  Ornella Neri was a dark-haired woman in her forties with the ageless beauty of a film star. She had bewitching eyes and a sensual smile. She carried herself with poise and dignity. Her voice had a throaty husk that many men found hypnotic.

  “It is no great secret that in the recent past Italy has struggled with its own finances. As a result of our economic challenges we have had difficulties increasing our defense spending in accordance with NATO’s needs and requirements. However we remain committed to the NATO ideal and to the fundamental belief that an attack on one ally is an attack upon us all.

  “In the past, we have all come to view this pledge in the context of potential Soviet or Russian aggression. Today, the reality is that the threat is something much more dangerous and insidious. The infected hordes that are currently massed on the Russian border, and that are elsewhere devastating Asia, cannot be ignored and cannot be fought by any one nation, no matter how mighty their military. It is only through alliance that we can stand in defiance,” she heard her own last words a second after she spoke them and realized the phrase was an apt call to arms. She repeated them.

  “It is only through alliance that we can stand in defiance. For that reason Italy urges the Alliance members to implement Article Five of the Treaty, and to put our combined forces under the direct control of SACEUR and his generals to plan a comprehensive strategy for the preserv
ation of Europe and of all Europeans.”

  She sat back in her seat. Secretary General Korvelis called on Jeremy Farthingdon.

  “I believe our esteemed Italian ambassador has summed up perfectly the attitude of Her Majesty’s government also,” Farthingdon said. “Britain has always stood at the forefront of NATO, and has always led the way against aggressors. We echo the appeal of the French and the Italian representatives, and call for a united army of Europe under the NATO flag and under the leadership of NATO generals. Britain supports the immediate implementation of Article Five.”

  It was a short speech – much shorter than Jeremy Farthingdon had planned, which disappointed him. Deep down he was a frustrated stage actor. He resented having to cut his oratory short, but everything significant had already been said.

  Konstantinos Korvelis called on Virginia Clayton.

  An air of anticipation hummed around the vast chamber.

  “Thousands of miles of Atlantic Ocean separates America from Europe, but in our commitment to our NATO allies we are steadfast and united,” the American Secretary of State began her speech.

  “Our American soldiers are currently deployed on bases right across Western Europe, and across Europe they will stay and fight. That is the pledge from the President of the United States. A threat to our European allies is a threat to us. We’ve fought side-by-side through conflicts momentous and small. We’ve spilled blood in the same mud. We’ve fought together to defend Europe against every aggressor.

  “The countenance of evil changes over time, but our NATO alliance endures. For that reason, America also urges this Council to immediately Implement Article Five so that all countries can unite in the war against the infected hordes. The enemy is at the gates of Europe. To delay – even a single day – is to invite disaster. Our troops will willingly place themselves under NATO command and control. We urge every other nation member to join us in this pledge.”