by P. A. Glaspy
"No signs of the missile on radar, Excellency. The stealth shield is holding as expected."
The Chairman stood with his hands clasped behind his back and surveyed the room. All eyes were on him, waiting for his reaction to the news of a successful launch. He nodded. Addressing the room, he replied, "Today is a day that will forever change the world. Today the small country of North Korea has brought the United States to its knees. Put the large display on their news network CNN. Put the one beside it on Fox News. On the other side, MSNBC. Watch as it all goes dark. We will celebrate our victory once it is confirmed."
The monitors were changed immediately. All eyes were glued to them as the same lone voice announced the time lapse.
"Launch plus five minutes." "Launch plus ten minutes." "Launch plus twenty minutes." "The missile will re-enter the atmosphere in four, three, two, one, mark!"
"Stealth is down!" reported another tech. "The nuclear ordinance has been deployed. We have detonation!"
All eyes were glued to the screens at the front of the room. Nothing out of the ordinary. All reporting on another scandal by another politician. They didn't know about the attack yet. Then, as one, the screens went to static. The Chairman clapped his hands.
"Victory, comrades! We have sent them back one hundred and fifty years technologically. Now, we will watch as they devour themselves from within. This will be one of our greatest days in history–the day we reduced the evil West to a memory of its former self. All of you are a part of that now! Let us celebrate!"
A cheer rose from the occupants of the control room. The tiny country known as North Korea had effectively killed the lifestyles of the people of the continental United States. Most of them, sleeping soundly in their beds, didn't yet know that anything was different. But they would. Soon, they would all know that their world had changed forever.
Excerpt from Book 2 in the Perilous Miles Series,
15 Miles from Home
Chapter 1
Sunday, December 20th - The White House
5:00 AM Eastern Standard Time
President Barton Olstein was awake, though still in bed. He was going over his speech for the press conference coming up that morning; another attempt to assure the American people that the economy was strong, even as the national debt soared to epic proportions. He had marked out comments he felt made him look weak, or as if he wasn’t doing everything he could to make the situation better. He was finishing up the last of the changes he wanted made when the sky outside lit up like daylight had come all at once. He watched the display, mesmerized. After a few moments, the light faded outside as the lights went off inside. Secret Service Agent Walters burst through the door.
“Mr. President, we have to get you to the bunker. Now!”
The President jumped out of bed. “What’s going on?”
Agent Walters was grabbing clothes off the settee at the foot of the bed. “We don’t know, sir, but all the power is out.”
“In the city?” the President asked.
“As far as we can tell, sir, everywhere.”
“What do you mean everywhere? The entire country? That’s impossible!” the President replied, indignantly.
“Sir, we can discuss this further once you are secure. We have to go now. Come with me please.” Walters had shoved clothes, shoes, and an overcoat into a duffel bag which he slung over his shoulder. He firmly grasped the President’s arm and started to usher him to the door.
“Wait! My phone!” the President exclaimed, as he tried to free himself from the agent’s grasp to get to his cell phone.
Agent Walters held firm. “Don’t bother, sir. It doesn’t work.”
The President looked at him in shock. “How do you know it doesn’t work?”
“Because none of them work, sir—not yours, mine, or anyone else’s, so far.”
The President stopped dead in his tracks. “Dear God. Do you know what this could mean?”
Walters prodded him on. “Yes, sir, we’re pretty sure we do. They’ll meet you in the bunker.”
When the President got to the ready room in the bunker, his chief of staff, Vanessa Jackson, was already there. She had on a radio headset attached to a large ham radio-style unit. The ground above them shielded the electronics below. When he walked in the door, he heard the tail end of her conversation.
“Yes, Admiral, let us know as soon as you find out something for sure. We’ll be waiting for your call.” She took the headset off and handed it to the Navy radio operator seated in front of the unit. She turned to the President.
“Well, what is it, Vanessa? Is it …”
“Sir, we are still getting reports in, but it looks like we have indeed been hit with an EMP. Everything above ground is knocked out, but we can still communicate with any of the silos, as well as our ships not in port here, and our military bases not in the lower forty-eight. Intelligence is telling us there was confirmation of a missile entering our atmosphere, but before we could launch a counter-attack, it detonated. The altitude was high enough to take out the power grid in the entire continental United States, as well as southern Canada and northern Mexico. The country is dark, sir.”
The President stood there in shock, then said only one word. “Who?”
Vanessa shook her head. “Nothing positive on that yet. We only got a short glimpse of the missile before it exploded. However, there is speculation it came from—”
Olstein interrupted her, face dark red. “Russia, right? I knew that asshole was just buttering us up so he could shove a nuke up our—”
“No sir. The trajectory seems to indicate the Korean Peninsula.”
Olstein was spluttering. “B-but, we have a base in South Korea! Thirty-five thousand troops! How could they launch a nuclear missile and no one know about it?”
“We’re trying to find that out, sir,” she replied. “Apparently, they have acquired stealth technology from someone. In the meantime, we need to declare a state of emergency for the entire country, enact martial law, and find as many house members as we can to declare this as an act of war.”
“Ha! Good luck with that. They all went home Friday,” the President said with a snort.
“I think the Speaker is still here. I’ve sent a runner over to his residence. He wasn’t planning to fly out until Monday.” Vanessa was checking some paperwork she had apparently brought with her. She looked pointedly at him. “Some of the joint chiefs may be in town. However, you don’t need any of them or their approval to act right now.”
Olstein returned her gaze then changed his focus to a pen stand on the desk. “We can’t attack anybody until we know who did this, Vanessa. We have to know for sure … be one hundred percent positive. I mean, none of our bases will be at full capacity. They have no way of calling the troops in. All hell is going to break loose here. We’ll need to recall all of our troops to maintain law and order in this country. We won’t have the manpower to launch an attack.”
Vanessa rolled her eyes. He wasn’t looking at her anyway. Spineless, as always, she thought. She said aloud, “Sir, those are valid points, but we cannot appear weak in the eyes of the world. You know who’s responsible! It has to be North Korea! If this attack goes unanswered, every piss-ant country over there will be looking to come here and get their licks in as well.”
“Exactly! That’s why we can’t afford to go looking for a fight. We’ll need our troops here, protecting us,” he replied defensively.
Exasperated, she barked out, “We don’t have to look for a fight—we’re in one! We’ve been attacked! Do you think the American people expect you to just sit here and protect your own ass?”
“How dare you talk to me like that! I’m the President of the United States! I’m the Commander in Chief! I decide what our military will do and where they will do it! We are bringing our troops home to protect all the people in our country, not just me or the Capitol! Get me every top military member we can find. I want all of them back here, now!” He stormed out of the
room to his sleeping quarters.
With a heavy sigh, Vanessa called her executive assistant, David Strain, in. “David, we need to get in touch with every senior military officer we can find in D.C. You may have to go door to door, since we have no cell service or landlines.”
David had a confused look on his face. “Um, how are we going to get there? Every modern vehicle up there is incapacitated.”
“Damn. I forgot. One sec.” She went to the radio operator. “Get me General Everley. Tell him we need at least four Humvees from the hardened storage over here immediately. Also, tell him the president wants all of our deployed troops back ASAP. When he raises hell about bringing our troops home, patch him through to the president. His idea, he can explain it.” She turned back to David. “As soon as the Humvees get here, start trying to find the senior staff and get them down here. The shit storm up above may be mild compared to what is going to go down when they get here.”
Acknowledgments
Hello friends. I’m so glad to be able to bring you this next series, Perilous Miles. As a prepper, even if you’re just starting out or well-seasoned, you know people who don’t get it. They call you their crazy prepper friend, their tinfoil hat-wearing buddy … you get the gist. They go through life living in the moment, don’t know how to cook real food (or don’t care to), and have no clue how to live without technology. That’s where this story came from. I know a lot of them. I often wonder how they would fare if the shit ever did hit the fan. I don’t think most of them would make it. We’ll see if Carly, Will, and the rest of their family do.
Since I’m self-publishing again, I am back to my original cast of characters in my work. First, as usual, is my husband, Jim. I quit my job to write full-time this year and, while I was terrified, he was thrilled. He is always there for me to bounce scenarios off; he does the covers; he gives me all the time my muse needs–whenever, wherever. He came up with the series title for me. He is my biggest fan, and I couldn’t do this without him and his support. Thank you, Baby.
Next is my aunt, Carol. She helps me keep the commas in the right spots and the grammar correct. She has a fulltime job raising her two grandchildren, yet drops everything to work on my books and I love her for it. If you need a proofreader/editor, I can hook you up with her. Thank you, sweet aunt.
My dad is always there if I need to ask technical questions about how things work, especially older items that might still function in an EMP situation. He’s a smart man with years of experience in lots of different areas. He tells me when my imagined scenario isn’t quite feasible and lets me go down the path anyway when I stubbornly leave it in. I think that’s because he sees himself in that stubborn streak. I made a huge change in mine and Jim’s lives when I quit my “real” job to write fulltime. I thought he might be disappointed in me for taking that chance. He was one hundred percent behind me. Thanks for having my back, Dad.
Any of you who follow my Facebook page know I lost my mom in January 2017. I inherited so many things from her: my love of music, my skill with numbers, my obsession with puzzles, and one of my most prized attributes–my love of reading. That one is the one that led me down the path I’m on now. I’m sad that she isn’t here to share this journey with me, but I know she’s watching from above, encouraging me to see how far I can go. I love you, Mom. I miss you every day. Thank you.
Last, and most important, I give the glory to God that He blessed me with this gift to tell stories people want to read. I placed my life in His hands and all I have is because of Him. Thank you, Lord, for the many blessings you bestow upon me every day.
~~~~~
Book 2 in the Perilous Miles series, 15 Miles from Home, should be available in the spring. Stay tuned!
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