Final Days Of America Narrative: Chapter 9 ‘End And Beginning’ Part I

Posted on August 30, 2023 by Mike

Author’s Note: Apologies, I ran behind a bit this week. I’ll post Part II of this chapter by Saturday evening. –Mike

Chapter 9

End And Beginning

Peter was tired and becoming irritable. Outside, the sky was bright, and the sun was up. With the coming of daylight, Peter was confident that his relatives by marriage would finally start filtering home soon. Or maybe not, he decided upon further thought. The Jacobsen family had decided to remain in his family’s hotel room throughout the night. He was grateful for their company and hospitality but right now he wished they’d all leave, except for Wally and Ethel.

Danes were, if nothing else, hospitable, kind people. Family was an institution here and when a family member was in trouble, the family rallied around. Cathryn and even Morgan had boasted about this wonderful trait for years. Peter had never seen it personally until now. Here they were, thousands of miles from home and something tragic had happened in their home country. The Jacobsen clan was doing everything to make them comfortable and remind Peter and his family that they were among loved ones here. And perhaps it was more than that, he thought.

The world was changing right before their eyes, most likely not for the better. Peter picked up on that last night and kept it buried deep inside of his mind, confronting the more immediate issues instead. Whatever was happening back home was bad beyond the shadow of a doubt. Cathryn, Morgan and the other Jacobsen ladies seemed to think otherwise, that this was a major story, yet nothing which would change the world. A cyber-attack that shut down electricity and made some planes malfunction and crash. A tragic, deadly event, but far from the end of the world. Peter thought differently and he was sure that Wally had drawn the same conclusion. The talk with his father turned out to be the decider. The eastern US had been hit with EMP from a nuclear explosion in space. The world had changed dramatically in the blink of an eye. Peter was no more prepared for this than his family. He was just quicker to accept the fact.

Arne Jacobsen was fast on the mark too. His mother-in-law’s half-brother had said very little through the night and morning. But from his stoic silence and facial expressions, Peter deduced that he too feared the world had changed. Arne was in his sixties and had grown up during the height of the Cold War, when the fear of a Soviet invasion of Western Europe was very real. He served a stint in the Danish army as well. Beneath the gentle exterior was a practical, far-thinking mind. Right now, Peter wished he possessed that quality.

if he were reading Peter’s thoughts, Arne looked across the room at Peter on the sofa and spoke, in English. “Peter, I think it would be a good idea if you and the family came to stay with us for a few days until this sorts out. We have more than enough room.”

Cathryn grinned and answered first. “That would be wonderful, Arne. Thank you.”

Peter wasn’t as accepting. He shook his head politely. “We do not want to put you through any trouble. I’ve extended our stay here by two days. Hopefully by Thursday we can fly home.”

“But you do not know,” Arne was insistent. “How long it will be. Look at the news. This could last for quite a while.”

“I’ve tried to get in touch with the embassy but haven’t had luck yet. I will try later this morning.”

“Honey,” Morgan came into the conversation. “I think we should stay with Arne and (his family. It would certainly be more comfortable for Mason. We’d all like to be around family now.” She saw that his mind was made up. “Consider it at least.”

“Alright, I will.” Peter relented. It didn’t sound like much, but Morgan knew they would be going to the Jacobsen’s large house later that day. She winked at Arne, who took the hint and said no more. With the issue decided, Peter and everyone else went back to watching the TV.

On the TV, the image of the BBC anchorman in London was replaced by a map of Iran with a star on the capital city and the name of someone unrecognizable at the bottom of the screen. “We go now to Nazif Shalama from our Middle East bureau who arrived in Tehran yesterday for the upcoming regional trade talks scheduled to begin in two days,” the anchorman updated everyone. “We’ve managed to contact him, and it turns out he has some news for us. Nazif.”

A new voice came on now, one with a British accent, but from the name Pakistani heritage. In the background Peter could hear a loud mechanical moaning. “Good morning, Steven. It is nine forty-seven in the morning here. I am reporting to you from outside the main terminal at Mehrabad airport, preparing to depart the country. The government has revoked the visas of all foreign journalists as of two hours ago.

“Something else is happening. Less than two minutes ago air raid sirens started going off around the airport. The contingent of Iranian soldiers who had been accompanying us scurried off and the scene here now is one of mass confusion. People do not know what is happening; If there has been an accident or if an air raid is indeed underway.”

“Nazif,” the anchor spoke, “Are Tehran’s residents aware of what has been going on?”

“Not really, Steven. State media is reporting that war had begun with the United States and despite the fact that there is heavy fighting going on in the Persian Gulf, Iran has struck a ‘mighty blow against the homeland of the Great Satan’ to quote a press release from earlier in the morning- hold on a moment.” A brief pause. “Okay, there is a police officer coming out of the terminal now and telling everyone to seek cover. I suppose that answers the question of whether an air raid is underway. I don’t know where the nearest shelter is, so I’ll follow everyone el-” There was a rapid crackle of static and then the line went dead.

“Nazif?” The anchorman inquired after a few seconds. He tried again twice more, each time to no avail. “We seem to have lost contact with Nazif Shalama in Tehran. We will try to get back to him as soon as possible. From his report appears an air strike on the Iranian capital is in progress at the moment. It is only fair to assume an attack was launched by American aircraft or cruise missiles…..”

It did not take Dan Wertz very long to reach the conclusion that Bob McDaniel had left him a veritable treasure chest of equipment. Twelve hours ago, the stack of assorted camping gear and dehydrated food sitting in the basement was simply a useful nuisance. Reality had changed since then. Perhaps for the short term, or maybe longer. McDaniel’s cache was going to make it far easier to get through for Dan, his family and maybe even some neighbors.

McDaniel was not a survival type. At least he didn’t come across as one in public or to Dan. He’d done fifteen years in the Army, and like Dan, was a combat veteran. He owned an army-navy surplus store in Lititz that was slated to close at the end of the month. The impending divorce had been hard on him financially. He wanted to make a clean start somewhere and had been planning to leave for Tennessee before the end of the year. That was one reason why he chose to repay Dan with supplies.

The Wertz family owned a mid-sized cabin up in the Poconos. In the summer they used it for camping and excursions to the nearby lake. During the winter months, Dan used it for a hunting weekend or two. He intended to store the supplies up there. Now, that was just not going to be possible. Thankfully so. What was on the floor in the basement now could wind up saving the family if things were as bad as Dan feared. It was a veritable jackpot for any survivalist. Everything from cases of MREs and dehydrated food to water purification tablets and hurricane lamps. Added to that were the items he’d picked up at Walmart earlier.

The shopping trip had been a very smart move. Soon enough people were going to panic as they realized what was happening. At that point all bets were off. The stores would be emptied out and looting would begin. Whatever a family had on hand when that went down was going to be all they’d have for a while. Eventually, FEMA would probably arrive and start relief efforts. But Dan was not optimistic about seeing them here in Lancaster in the coming days.

Final Days Of America Narrative: Chapter 8 ‘The First Presidential Order’

Posted on August 23, 2023 by Mike

Chapter 8

The First Presidential Order

The briefing was conducted by the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs in the overly cramped conference room. The other Joint Chiefs and senior government officials aboard were present. No one else was allowed inside. To ensure privacy and security, a pair of secret service agents stood guard outside the door, augmented by a trio of Air Force Security troops. Inside the room a pair of Secret Service agents stood inconspicuously against the wall behind McAlister, the acting president and their newest charge.

“The OPLAN is divided up into three separate phases,” Warner explained. “Phase one will be made up entirely of ICBMs and submarine launched missiles: Minuteman III and Trident D-5s. Three hundred warheads for Iran and roughly the same number for North Korea. The target lists are primarily military and political. Capitals, nuclear facilities, remaining nuclear capable forces and delivery systems, airbases and naval ports. With regards to North Korea, we will shy away from targets that are in close proximity to their borders with China and Russia. Those will be hit later in Phase Three with lower yield weapons delivered by air.

“Phase Two involves conventional and nuclear forces. We are working from a list of military targets that are situated within or near heavily populated areas and will hit them with cruise missiles and in some instances with air strikes if conditions allow. Beyond that, Phase One targets requiring a restrike will also be hit again.

“The third phase will be the air-delivered nuclear weapons I touched on before. Our heavy bomber forces will handle this. As you know, our bombers are no longer on the short alert status that they were during the Cold War so generating the force will take some time. We anticipate Phase Three to begin within 36 hours. B-52s and B-2s will make up the launch vehicles for air launched cruise missiles, and low yield gravity bombs. The B-2s will strike the targets in North Korea that are in close proximity to that country’s borders with China and Russia. Some -52s will stand off to be used against targets of opportunity in both countries, should the need arise.

“Follow on strikes and missions will be determined after a post-strike reconnaissance picture has been obtained.”

That was it. A neat and concise briefing to explain in mild details the methods in which the United States military would turn two nations into glowing rubble. faces around the conference table betrayed thoughts McAlister could sympathize with. Shock, horror, revulsion. He felt the same emotions to a lesser degree. The decision to go forward or not rested on his shoulders. He didn’t like it, but it had to be done and would be.

“Are the Russians and Chinese aware of our plans?” Jeff Atwater asked.

“Yes,” McAlister answered. “Mainly through embassies in Beijing and Moscow. The ambassadors laid the groundwork for me to speak with the leaders of both countries and I have. They know we are coming soon, and their response was simple. They will keep out of the way provided we keep them informed and keep the damage away from their frontiers.”

“We will keep in touch with Moscow and Beijing so that there are no mistakes or confusion,” the White House chief of staff added. “State is coming back online slowly. Deputy Secretary Wallace is at Andrews and will be in the air soon. He’ll assume the diplomatic duties.”

“He could be airborne now,” General Warner observed. “NAOC Alternate-3 landed at Andrews fifteen minutes ago.”

“Anthony-I’m sorry. Mr. President,” Browne corrected himself sheepishly. McAlister had to hide a smile. It was still all so new for everyone. “Will you address the nation?”

“Once the first phase is complete, I’ll address the nation, and the world for that matter. It will be short and simple, but the people need to know that there is still a government.”

Dan couldn’t sleep. He laid in bed for nearly an hour tossing and turning but sleep eluded him. He marveled at how quiet and dark it was. Outside, the soft glow of the streetlamp across the street would beam through the window into the master bedroom every night. Now, nothing except for pitch blackness. The master suite was so dark. The only thing more disconcerting than the darkness was the silence. His house was as quiet as a mortuary. Normally when in bed at night he would hear background noises. The heat or air conditioning going on, one of the kid’s televisions. Tonight, nothing. The absence of air conditioning was noticeable too. The house wasn’t warm, but it certainly was not the regular ice box that it usually was around this time.

Beside him, Lori lay snoring and dead to the world. To her credit, she could always sleep regardless of what was on her mind. Dan envied her. Between his thoughts and the awkward quiet he doubted he was going to get any sleep tonight. After another fifteen minutes gently tossed the covers off and climbed out of bed. He grabbed the flashlight from the nightstand beside the bed. walked downstairs and sat down at the kitchen table to collect his thoughts.

What was happening? From the few scraps of information, he’d seen on the television before the power went dead, Dan understood that whatever happened was bad. Losing power, all electronics, and most vehicles all at one time was akin to the world ending. In the blink of an eye everything had changed. The world he woke up in that morning was gone. Maybe for an extended period of time. Maybe forever. Laying it out in his mind, he pondered the possibilities and continuously came back to one of two causes: EMP or a big solar flare.

Admittedly, he did not know as much about either. Dan’s knowledge of solar flares came mostly from tv shows on Discovery and NatGeo. Coronal Mass Ejections, the official sounding name for solar flares, are essentially big pockets of gas threaded with magnetic field lines that pop out of the sun. Most are harmless to the earth, but occasionally one can play hell with some electronics and satellites. The possibility also remained, he remembered from one show in particular, for a large-scale CME to come close enough to Earth through solar winds and cause severe damage and disruptions to electronics and the electrical grid across the globe. If something like that was responsible for this, Dan reasoned there would’ve been some kind of warning. NASA released reports on solar activity on a consistent basis. Someone would have seen a big flare coming and raised the alarm in advance.

EMP was more likely. Dan remembered more about it from his military service. A pulse was the aftereffect of a nuclear explosion. The effect it had on power and electronics depended on the size of the blast and the height it occurred at. During the Cold War, planners expected that a Soviet first strike would be preceded by large warheads being detonated in space above the continental US to disrupt communications and electronics. In the 1980s the effects were expected to be limited because the military’s communications were hardened, and civilian electronics were nowhere near as sensitive as they were at present. Nowadays, a decent sized warhead could cause a hell of a lot more disruption. Society and its digital cocoon were extremely sensitive. An advanced nation like the United States was ripe for an EMP hit. That was probably what had happened here, he concluded finally. The evidence was there, but Dan was not yet prepared to acknowledge it.

EMP meant a nuclear explosion somewhere. At least one, albeit not necessarily on the ground. Was the country at war? With whom? There was no news coming from anywhere yet. The lack of information for the public would eventually create a vacuum. People were people and their response to all this was going to come in phases. Dan saw evidence of that the previous night at Walmart. Nobody knew what was happening. The average Pennsylvanian probably assumed that whatever happened would be fixed soon. Over time, the realization that this was something more would set in. Those without food and essentials would gravitate towards acquiring what their families needed in any way possible. Civil order, always a delicate thing, was now in danger of collapsing entirely now that the lights were out.

Food and water. The well guaranteed they’d have water for some time. Food and supply wise, the cache from the Army-Navy store was a Godsend. It might save his family in the coming weeks. It wasn’t going to be enough to sustain the Wertz family indefinitely, but Dan was confident they could hold out until help eventually arrived.

The E-4B disconnected from the KC-10 tanker and broke away, returning to its lazy orbit over northern Iowa and Southern Minnesota. The aircraft’s regular smooth, almost comforting flight had been replaced by a rocky, tilting ride as NAOC drew in close to the tanker and refueled. Now, once the two aircraft separated, the ride was becoming smoother once again. Unseen to the naked eye in the darkness, the airborne command post was not traveling alone. There were friends close by. A quartet of Minnesota Air National Guard fighters surrounded the aircraft one mile out. Beyond them were more fighters and another tanker, trailing at a moderate distance and ready to provide fuel in the event of an emergency.

Inside of the E-4B, in the again crowded conference room, President McAlister examined the faces around the table closely. The stares he received in exchange were guarded for the most part, yet not entirely.

“I would like to know,” he spoke calmly and carefully. “If anyone here now currently holds reservations about what will come next.”

After twenty seconds of uncomfortable silence, the National Security Adviser cleared his throat and spoke.

“Personally, I’d prefer it if we could hold off for another six hours and use the time to reassemble a larger government core. A decision like this,” he hesitated. “Should not be undertaken so fast. But,” he admitted with a heavy sigh, “We don’t have the luxury of waiting. It needs to be done now.” Almost in unison, the others around the conference table nodded their heads in agreement.

“I don’t like it any more than you, Jeff.” Chris said softly. “Time is against us, though.” Atwater nodded.

“Sir, when do you plan to speak to the nation?” Browne then asked again. He remained deeply concerned with the absence of information getting out to the American people.

“After phase one is completed, we will release a short statement. I will address the nation at 7 AM. Can we do a television broadcast from up here?” he asked General Warner.

“No, sir. This aircraft is only equipped for a radio broadcast.”

“Well, it’ll have to do for now,” McAlister declared. He inhaled deeply and held it for a ten second count before exhaling. He pointed to the Air Force Lieutenant Colonel standing beside him and holding a thick black satchel bag.

“Open it up.”

Final Days of America Narrative: Chapter 7 ‘Settling In’

Posted on August 15, 2023 by Mike

Settling In

“I, Christopher Edward McAlister, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States, so help me God.”

The balding, middle-aged man standing before McAlister was a judge on the Shreveport City Court. He was a friend of Barksdale’s base commander and didn’t live very far from the main gate. The base commander sent out two Humvees filled with Air Force Security Force troops to his house and brought him in. Now, wearing a rumpled suit and standing in the middle of the battle staff area on board NAOC, he appeared extremely nervous. Standing around them was a collection of crew members and a dozen or so government officials who had transferred over from the other E-4B. The aircraft they were current on, NAOC-Primary, was airborne and cruising north at 41,000 feet towards Fort Smith, Arkansas The judge nodded and extended his hand.

“This may be a strange thing to say at the moment, but congratulations, Mr. President.”

“Thank you,” McAlister said quietly, shaking the man’s hand. The crowd around them did not applaud or clap, he was glad to see. That would have been awkward. The newly sworn in forty-eighth President of the United States looked around, taking in all their faces. To his surprise, the men and women looked back at him so expectantly. The realization hit him like a thunderclap. My God, I’m really their president. “Alright, people,” he said. “Let’s get back to work. Briefing in the conference room.”

McAlister walked forward, now with two Secret Service agents accompanying him. He in charge now. Commander in chief of a gravely wounded nation. On the ground beneath the airborne command post, people were starting to put the pieces together and realize something catastrophic had taken place. In the east right now, it was likely pure chaos. No electricity or other utilities. No communications and probably no operating vehicles. Across the world, America’s friends and foes alike were monitoring the situation, gradually becoming aware that the world was changing before them. How it looked tomorrow would depend on the decisions made and orders given by McAlister in the coming hours.

He entered the conference room, and everyone present rose as he took his seat. Entering before him were the Joint Chiefs, White House Chief of Staff Frank Browne, DCI Alan Whitman, and National Security Adviser Jeff Atwater. A handful of deputies and aides from various government departments were already in the cramped room. Since space was at a premium, the deputies stood against the walls.

“Okay,” McAlister began. “You’ve all had an opportunity to get settled in. Military communications first. Where do we stand?” He looked down the table at the battle staff brigadier.

“The comm lines to military installations west of a line running from Sandusky, Ohio south to Mobile, Alabama are functioning normally. We can talk to them, and they can talk to us. The same goes for our bases and forces overseas. They’re online and responding to the orders we’ve been transmitting from here and from other command posts. Our bases east of the same line are another matter entirely. We can talk to the Pentagon, and in the last hour or so contact has been established with Fort Liberty, MacDill Air Force Base and Fort Indiantown Gap in Pennsylvania. Raven Rock is also active as well. That number will probably rise as time goes on, but for right now comms are very limited.”

“What are the conditions at Liberty, MacDill and Indiantown?”

“Sir, each one is making do with minimal communications through battery powered satellite receivers. A lot of equipment has been affected to one degree or another, according to the reports we’ve received. Especially vehicles and aircraft, but Indiantown is an army aviation base and they claim to have some Blackhawks operational. We’ll get more information as time goes on, Mr. President.”

“Fair enough. Civilian communication next.”

“We can talk to the Pentagon and CIA but that’s all for now. DC is dark. So are New York City, Boston and every other major metropolitan area on the east coast. Nothing is transmitting. The media is broadcasting out of Chicago and their west coast affiliates right now. They’re not saying much. For the moment they’re speculating, but soon they will start asking questions.”

“We need to get out in front of that,” Browne pointed out. “Otherwise, rumors will take on a life of their own and spiral out of control. A short statement will do. There are a lot of scared people out there.”

Chris nodded his head in agreement. “Write it up and I’ll take a look at it.” Time to move to the next topic. “Now, how are we doing with moving the cabinet members and other officials out of Washington?”

“The Pentagon is coordinating that, sir. Andrews is the main rally point. A third E-4 is inbound DC at the moment to make the next pick up. As of the last update received, Secretaries of the Interior and Energy have made it to the base, along with others. Deputy secretaries mostly. The Secretary of Education and the DNI have also been located. The DNI was at Fort Meade, Secretary Holland in Hershey PA at a conference. They’re trying to get to DC.”

“Have they retrieved anybody from State?”

“I’ll ask but not to my knowledge,” the battle staff commander answered.

“We need a new SecState soon,” McAlister observed. No deputies from the State Department had been part of the first group. “Where will we be taking them?”

“Offutt for now, unless you say otherwise, sir.”

“No, that makes sense. But I want Holland and the DNI to get up to Raven Rock. If Fort Indiantown Gap has working helicopters, or will soon, put them on the job.”

“Very well, Mr. President.” McAlister paused involuntarily upon hearing that.

“Get on it immediately.” The brigadier stood up took his leave.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I realize how it looks to order every senior government official out of DC like this. It can’t be avoided. The country needs a functioning government. We can’t run the country indefinitely just from this aircraft. It might seem like the government is cutting and running but that’s not the case. The situation we’re facing is grave. You only know bits and pieces so let me fill you in on the complete picture.”

For the next ten minutes the new president did just that. He went over everything from the first missile detection to the landing at Barksdale. McAlister spared none of the important details, even discussing the conversations with the previous president in the minutes leading up to detonation.

“We have some major decisions to make here very coon,” he said when finished. “The situation around the world is chaotic and worsening by the minute. There has been contact between our forces and those of our enemies in the Persian Gulf and Sea of Japan. Naval and air for now, but North Korean forces are massing at the DMZ. The South Koreans are growing very nervous. Most important, we have no idea if Iranians and North Koreans have exhausted their ICBM arsenals or if another attack is coming soon.

“Strategic Command in Omaha and the Joint Chiefs have been putting together counter-strike options.” He nodded to the Joint Chiefs. “Our conventional and strategic forces are at Defcon 1 presently. Each second we wait gives Iran and North Korea more time. The United States has already been attacked and cannot afford to wait very long. We will retaliate. I’ll open the floor for a few minutes.”

“What type of retaliation are you thinking about?” Browne asked right away.

“A response in kind, Frank. The North Koreans and Iranians initiated a coordinated strike against our country with weapons of mass destruction.”

“But none of their missiles hit our soil,” Browne pointed out.

“True.” McAlister allowed. “But the ones that did detonate off the coast were fused for EMP. There’s no doubt about that. They exploded on the edge of space and caused a large amount of destruction.”

“Frank,” the national security adviser followed up. “How familiar are you with EMP?”

“Not very,” the chief of staff admitted.

“The two detonations have fried the power grid on the east coast and caused probably hundreds of airliners to crash. Most motor vehicles and trains have stalled too. It’s going to take months, if not longer to recover from that.” There were nods around the table at that. McAlister was gratified to see that most of the people here understood.

“Two thirds of the country has not been affected,” he pointed out. “But the east coast has. That is a lot of people and infrastructure. Make no mistake about it, Frank. We’ve taken a major hit. And every second that goes by increases the chances of a second strike. To say nothing about what else is going on around the world. The Israelis are scared. They were damn close to launching their own strike against Iran. I talked to the prime minister earlier and got him to hold off for now.”

“The Israelis are getting ready,” the DCI cautioned. “Their military remains on a high state of alert.”

“Geopolitically, we have to get out in front of this,” Atwater said. “We were attacked. We’re well within our rights to retaliate.”

McAlister wished he had more principals available to consult with. The deputies and aides against the wall wisely kept out of the discussion. Many of their bosses were either dead now or unaccounted for. The decision was his. His first executive decision was going to be a monumental one.

“How the hell were they able to do it?” Browne asked incredulously. “Iran wasn’t supposed to have nukes or missiles like this. Neither were the North Koreans. They both signed the agreements.”

“They lied,” McAlister responded in a controlled voice. “We took them at their word, and we’ve paid the price. Now Tehran and Pyongyang will pay the price for those lies.”

The atmosphere inside of the hotel suite was comparable to family members standing vigil beside a loved one’s deathbed. Morgan, Cathryn and their family members sat with him, flipping through the news channels on television. Mason and the other kids were in another part of the suite being kids, Peter was glad to see. On the tv screen nothing had changed significantly. The US cable news channels and networks were all now broadcasting from their Los Angeles or Chicago affiliates. Nothing was coming from Washington or New York. Their counterpart European news stations had very little verifiable to pass along. Speculation was creeping into the BBC coverage, he saw and even though he spoke little passable Danish, Peter sensed the domestic news here was doing the same.

He was becoming more anxious. He felt a growing need to do something meaningful. Deep down he couldn’t help but suspect that some sort of disaster had taken place back home. The media reports made it seem like a cyber-attack but Peter’s instincts directed him to a darker prospect. The absence of solid news only made it worse. Desperate to do something, he picked up his cellphone, excused himself and went into master bedroom to begin another round of calls. Futile he knew, but it beat staring at the television watching Morgan and Cathryn’s Danish relatives stare helplessly at him and his American family.

He thumbed through the contact list, firing off attempted calls rapidly. The first ten numbers he tried all came back with a message indicating that the cell service was down. Frustrated, Peter finally returned to the phone number of his father in San Diego and decided to give it another try. Amazingly, the phone started to ring.

“Hello?” A familiar voice answered after the third ring.

“Dad!” Peter couldn’t believe it. He stammered. “Hi! Are you alright?”

“Peter!” James Quinn was a retired naval officer. His command voice was strikingly like his fatherly voice; gruff and concerned. Even though he and Peter had endured some difficult times in recent years, the elder Quinn never stopped loving or worrying about his oldest son. “I’m okay,” the elder Quinn insisted. “What about you, Morgan and Mason?”

“We’re fine. Dad, what’s happening back there?”

“Chaos. The whole East Coast went dark about four hours ago. Electronics, communications, everything.”

“Yeah, they’re reporting the same thing here. What about San Diego? Any disruptions there?”

“No. We’re fine here,” James answered after a moment’s reflection. “The power and water are on, and the landline works as you can tell. Internet is swamped though, and cellphones aren’t working too well.”

“Phone systems are probably overloaded everywhere. I’ve had problems here. Been trying to call out for over an hour as a matter of fact. You’re the first person I managed to reach. Dad,” he began in a far lower tone. “What do you think happened?”

“For my money, I’m guessing it was an EMP hit. The news stations were talking about helicopters flying all over Washington right before they went dead. The navy bases out here shut down tight right away. I’ve been watching ships headed out to sea from the back porch. Destroyers, a cruiser and even a sub. Heavy stuff. Whatever happened, it’s only affecting the East Coast right now. We are ok here. Same goes for the Midwest. The networks and news stations are broadcasting out of LA or Chicago for the time being.”

Peter wanted to bring everyone in to hear what his father was saying but stopped himself.

“What’s going on over in Europe?” His dad pressed.

“What? Yes, I’m fine. We all are. Same as you, I guess. Everyone’s confused. There’s a rumor going around that the Iranians are responsible. Or maybe North Korea.”

“No surprise there.”

“Where is Jeff right now? At sea?” Jeff Quinn was Peter’s younger brother. A naval officer who had taken after their dad in many ways.

“Yes. At sea aboard Kentucky. She’s a missile sub out somewhere in the Northern Pacific. If this was an EMP hit and Iran is responsible, your brother is going to be in the middle of things.”

“How?” Peter wondered, nonplussed. “We’re not going to nuke Iran because they turned off the lights at home temporarily.”

“It’s more than that.” The elder Quinn then briefly explained the effects of an electromagnetic pulse. “Jeff is at sea and he’s safe. I’m overjoyed that Morgan, Mason and you are over in Denmark too. You’re safe.”

“I’ll try and book us flights home once flights start up again.”

“Like hell you will, Peter. Contact the American embassy in Copenhagen tomorrow and find out what they’re telling tourists. I’m just guessing here but I’d say your stay in Europe will be extended-” On the cusp of the last word there was a burst of static and the line went dead.

“Dad?” Nothing. Peter tried calling again to no avail. Was it the maxed-out cell phone lines breaking down or had there been another attack? Frustrated and increasingly worried, rose from the bed and walked back into the parlor area. Morgan saw his face and immediately was on guard.

“I heard you talking on the phone in there.”

“I managed to get a hold of my father. We’d better call the front desk and extend our stay by a few days. It seems we could be stuck over here for a while longer.”

President McAlister allowed himself a quick meal. It was the first thing he had eaten since a quick breakfast of yogurt and coffee on the flight from DC to Offutt that morning. As he chewed, McAlister’s mind was active, separating the realities of the new world from those of just six hours ago. It felt more like six years now. The Washington DC he departed from in the morning no longer existed. For that matter, the life he’d had only twelve hours ago had irreparably changed, possibly forever.

Against his better judgment, Chris mulled all of this over while he munched on a tuna salad sandwich that a helpful airman….woman actually…..had set in front of him on a plate. Where was his family? His wife had probably been at home when the EMP struck. The kids more than likely had been at school. Ellen was as practical as she was ferocious. She’d probably realized what was going on and set off for the kid’s school to bring them home. The last he’d heard before detonation was that the Secret Service was sending agents to their Georgetown home.

As difficult as it was, he set the thoughts aside. The immediate needs and concerns of the moment demanded his complete attention. Right now, the US was a wounded giant and was now its president. That took precedence over everything else, including the welfare of his family.

A knock came to the door. Before he could say anything, the door opened and revealed the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff standing there with a sheet of paper in his hand. “Mr. President, I have the latest updates from the field.”

“Come on in.” McAlister waved him in and set the plate aside. “I suppose we should bring Omaha in on this,” he said. Warner nodded so he lifted the phone in front of him, punched in the code and activated the speaker. After a few seconds of static, the voice of General Coleman came on.

“Yes, sir?”

“General, I’m here with the Chairman. He has some updates and I thought it would be useful if you sat in.”

“Thank you, sir.” Coleman replied appreciatively. “We’re so busy on this end that I haven’t had an opportunity to monitor what’s going on elsewhere. I’m ready whenever you are.”

“There have been two reports of contact in fifteen minutes. One in the Gulf, one in the Sea of Japan. Both on the air side.”

“Gulf first,” McAlister ordered.

“An AWACS over Qatar picked up eight aircraft taking off from north of Bushehr on Iran’s coast and heading west towards Bahrain or Kuwait. The controller identified them as fighter type aircraft and vectored four F-22s to intercept and engage. The Raptors splashed all eight before the Iranians even knew they were there. From the report it looks like they’d launched a mixture of MiG-29s and old F-4s.”

“Nice job by the Air Force,” McAlister complimented. “What about the Sea of Japan?”

“Navy fighters from the Reagan tangled with a flight of North Korean MiG-23s that ventured too far out from the coast. Same story as the Gulf. Friendly fighters on CAP were directed in and splashed the MiGs quickly.”

“Good. What else is happening over there?”

“In the Pacific, very little, Mr. President. The Chinese are moving what ships they have in the Sea of Japan towards the Yellow Sea. The Russians have recalled their naval units back to Vladivostok too. However, air defense units in the Russian Far East have raised their alert level. China is doing the same.”

“They know we’re going to hit back and when we do, it’s going to be hard. I don’t blame them for that.” He leaned closer to the phone. “General, how much more time is needed?”

Coleman answered immediately. “Sir, I can launch the strike within five minutes of receiving the order. Ideally, I recommend waiting two to three more hours.”

“Why is that?” McAlister asked, though he already knew the answer.

“Some of our forces are in the path of potential fallout given the prevailing winds. Naval forces mostly. PACOM and CENTCOM requested additional time to get those ships into safer waters and shuffle air assets from one area to another. The actions are underway and will be complete in two hours.”

“And then?” Chris asked quietly.

“Then we will be at maximum readiness, sir.”

“Good. I want a briefing on the plan in an hour. What’s the story on Andrews?”

“NAOC-Alternate Two will arrive in less than ninety minutes, sir.”

“Good. Find out if State has anyone at the base yet. We need diplomats right now.”

Final Days of America Narrative: Chapter 6 ‘Line of Succession’

Posted on August 10, 2023 by Mike

Chapter 6

Line of Succession

“Have you talked with the Russians or Chinese?” the voice on the other end asked. This time it was the British Prime Minister, his third phone call in an hour.

“Our ambassadors in Beijing and Moscow are laying the groundwork for that now. When the Speaker gets airborne, he will make the calls.”

“Why haven’t you done it yourself, Mr. Secretary?”

“Simple. I am not the president. The first voice the Russian and Chinese hear needs to be that of the president or his designated successor. Not me.”

“Like it or not,” the PM explained. “You are the leader now, temporarily or not. I suggest that you get out in front of this now. Otherwise, a vacuum will form. America crippled and leaderless, the consequences could be catastrophic.” The man’s words originated from fears for his own nation as well as for those of his nation’s best friend.

“Which is why I have been in touch with our closest allies constantly since this began. Non-allies and potential enemies are another story though. Give it another hour, Mr. Prime Minister and you’ll have a leader to speak with.”

“The President is dead, you’ve been told. Was this confirmed?”

“It has been. As well as the Vice President and Secretary of State. The president pro tempore of the Senate was in the air on a commercial flight. We’re assuming she’s dead unless we find out otherwise. The Speaker is next in line after the vice though.” The battle staff commander appeared in the doorway of the conference room. “Mr. Prime Minister, I will be back in touch with you within the hour. Things are becoming busy here now. Goodbye.” McAlister stared up at the brigadier general.

“NAOC-Alternate is on the ground at Andrews, sir. We’re in contact crew.”

“How did it go?” McAlister asked, remembering the earlier conversation about landing in such adverse conditions.

“As well as can be expected. They’re boarding everyone now and expect to be airborne within ten minutes.”

“Ask the pilot about what things are like at the base. And what did he see around the city when they came in.”

“Would you like to talk with him, Mr. Secretary? I can connect him in here.”

“Yes.” Chris nodded his head.

“His name is Colonel Mayhew,” the general said as he set up the connection through the phone on the table. “Colonel, the Secretary of Defense is here with me. Go.”

“Mr. Secretary,” the pilot’s voice crackled through. “My name is Colonel Mayhew.”

“Evening, colonel,” McAlister spoke quickly. “Tell me about the situation on the ground there?”

“Comms are down at the base, sir. The runways are clear and operational but no aircraft here are airworthy to my knowledge. They are getting some generators going but the main power is out. We’ll be airborne soon.”

“What did the area look like when you were coming in?”

“A lot of smoke and some fires. Plane crashes. We saw debris and fire from one on the other side of the Potomac. The Beltway is packed solid with cars. ATC is down. We haven’t heard anything from the regional control center or TRACON.”

“And you did not see anything else in the air anywhere around the capital,” McAlister stated instead of forming as a question.

“There’s no one else up there, Mr. Secretary,” Colonel Mayhew confirmed. McAlister accepted his answer,

“What happens next on your end?”

“Once we take off, we’ll climb to altitude and refuel. Then we start heading west to secure airspace unless STRATCOM changes its mind, sir”

“We might alter your orders after you’re in the air,” McAlister let him know. “How many people are you taking onboard right now?”

“Roughly fifty, sir. I can’t say for sure who all is back there. The battle staff commander will be in touch once we’re up. I know he has the White House chief of staff back there and he wants to talk to you.”

“Ok. Call us back when you’re in the air again.”

It was becoming unnaturally dark now. No streetlights came on, no lights in houses, no headlights from cars in the street. The grandfather clock in his home office said it was 7:13PM. Inside their house Lori had two hurricane lamps going, backed up by a selection of candles. Dan took one of the lamps and went out into the backyard. Right off of the walkout basement entranceway was a hand pump for the well. Every home in Winding Creek had its own well. Intended as a novelty item, the builders had included a fully functional hand pump too. It proved its worth through a few days-long power outages over previous years. The hand pump and well were nothing short of a miracle now. No matter what happened in the coming days and weeks, Dan took solace knowing his family would at least have water.

The family and their guests sat down to dinner once Dan and the others came back from Walmart. Burgers that Lori had out to thaw earlier and salad. Dan cooked them up on the grill which still had a full tank of propane. He cooked the entire dozen, encouraging everyone to eat them now before they went bad. The food in the refrigerator was cold yet. He made sure to keep the door closed off now to extend the life of the food as much as possible. Fred and Renee stayed for dinner and then Fred went back home. Renee would stay as previously decided, until her husband made it back.

Dan was of half a mind to go out and look for Sean. His neighbors were in their late thirties. Newly married after each had gone through difficult previous marriages. They were trying to have a child. Sean was a pharmaceutical salesman for a firm out near King of Prussia. He made good money, but not enough to afford a house here in Winding Creek. That’s where Renee’s parents came in. They helped with the down payment and ensured that the mortgage was paid every month without diluting their daughter and son in law’s bank accounts.

Sean had probably been somewhere on Route 222 South between Reading and Lancaster when everything went down, Dan figured. Going up there to find him was pointless with no lights and roads full of stalled vehicles. As much as he wanted to go, common sense told him to sit tight and wait. Maybe in the morning if Sean had yet to arrive, he’d revisit the issue.

He walked around the side of the house and then to the front yard, looking up at the sky. It was strangely beautiful. The clear night sky and lack of illumination on the ground just enhanced the brightness of the stars. He hadn’t seen a night sky like this since his time in Saudi Arabia and Kuwait. And back then, like now, the beauty of the moment was offset by the dangers around. A soft red glow against the horizon off to the northeast gave testimony to that. A plane crash perhaps? He wondered. What the hell was going on? Now, with a free moment to think, he opened his mind to the possibilities.

The scenes on the upstairs TV just before everything took place had yielded some clues but left many important questions unanswered too. The government had been in the process of evacuating Washington, so whatever happened obviously took even the US government by complete surprise. Was it an attack? Or an unexpected solar flare? Both possibilities made sense given the sudden loss of power. EMP probably then. Nearly everything that contained electronics of some type was affected. But some cars were working. Admittedly, Dan did not know the intricate details of EMP, however, from what he saw, this looked mightily similar to what an EMP event was.

What was taking place beyond his little corner of Pennsylvania? Was the rest of the country like this? Were they at war and if so, who was the enemy? More to the point, was the US military retaliating already? His eldest son was out in the Mediterranean now aboard a destroyer. Was he in the fight now?

Dan sighed and looked up the street. Candle lights were now becoming visible in some homes. Bringing his thoughts back to the present, he thought about his own family. With what they had on hand thanks to the bankrupt Army Navy store owner, and the items he and Fred picked up that evening, they were in good shape. His neighbors might not be in good condition though, especially if whatever this was dragged out for weeks or months, God forbid. The neighbors around here certainly were not ready for this psychologically. Neither was Dan, but at least he never considered something like this to be outside of the realm of possibility. Winding Creek was a development consisting of eighty houses. The residents were upper middle class to straight up wealthy. Folks used to getting what they wanted and when they didn’t, blaming someone else for it. This golf club community was insulated from the real world. Now the real world was going to be intruding and Dan hoped his friends and neighbors were ready. A quick trip to the gun safe earlier in the evening ensured that his own weapons were ready. He’d load one handgun later and keep it close by. Lori wouldn’t like it but that was something he could handle.

The front door opened and someone walked out carefully while holding something in their hand. Through the darkness, Dan could tell it was Alex.

“Dad?” the boy called softly.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Dan answered. His son came up and stood next to him. “ How is everybody doing?”

“Good, I guess.” His son shrugged his shoulders. “Mom lit a few more candles. Her, Meagan, and Renee are sitting in the family room talking.” Dan was tempted to ask what they were talking about but left it alone. He pointed to the small square object in Alex’s hand.

“What do you have there?”

“One of the survival radios from downstairs in that box. It winds up, so I tried to get a station.”

“Any luck?”

“Nope. Only static. That’s why I came out here. Thought it might work better.” He pressed a button, wound it up and turned it on. Nothing but static across the dial. “Guess not.”

“Give it time. Keep trying every once in a while though. Sooner or later, we’ll get something.”

“I hope so,” Alex grumbled. He clicked the radio off and put it into his back pocket. He peered up and down the darkened street and then up at the sky. “Whatever happened is bad, isn’t it?” he said after a minute.

“I think so,” Dan answered reluctantly. He spoke softly so as to not disturb the tranquility around them. “Tomorrow will tell us a lot.”

“Be straight with me, Sad. What do you think is going on?” Dan always believed in never lying to family. Especially during an emergency. This situation qualified as that. So, for the next five minutes, he told his son what he believed was probably happening.

“It might not be that bad,” Dan said in conclusion. Or it could be worse, he left unsaid. “Tomorrow will tell us a lot. For now, don’t say anything about this to the ladies, ok”

“Sure, Dad.” Alex went back to the dark sky. The kid was scared, his father knew, and for good reason. In one swoop his blanket of security had been swiped away. Life would never be the same for Alex. Or anyone else, for that matter.

“We knew Iran had nuclear weapons but not ICBMs for God’s sake. Where the hell did, they come from?” McAlister wondered aloud. The other men sitting around the conference table wondered the same thing. For that matter, so did everyone around the world. The question was important and demanded an answer. However, further questions needed to be answered as well.

“What matters now is how many warheads and missiles they might have left.” General Warner answered. “Is this over or will there be another volley coming soon? The same goes for North Korea. Hell, the ROKs have got to be going insane right now.”

“The Israelis certainly are,” McAlister shook his head wearily. “I spoke with their PM earlier and he’s holding back for the moment. But if we waiver or take too much time retaliating they are going to turn Iran into a parking lot.” Izzo sighed. “What’s the latest on the vice and president pro tempore?”

“Sir, we haven’t heard anything from the Vice President,” the battle staff brigadier answered. “I spoke to the Secret Service a few minutes ago through the NMCC. No word.”

Chris nodded. “And Senator Hastings?” Barbara Hastings was the president pro tempore.

“Se took off from Dulles half an hour before the attack warning came in. Commercial aircraft, heading to Maine for an awards dinner. We have to assume the worst. EMP plays hell with unshielded aircraft.”

McAlister thought about that. The Speaker of the House was number three in the line of succession. If the vice president was located, she’d assume the duties of the presidency, as per the Constitution. Until then, the Speaker would be the acting president. Hell of a way for the country to get a new chief executive, but the circumstances were unusual to say the least. The phone on the desk buzzed. He lifted it.

“Yes?”

“Sir, this is the communications officer. I have the White House chief of staff on the line.”

“Put him on.”

“Stand by.” There were a few clicks and a beep, then five seconds of silence before Frank Browne’s voice came through.

“Chris?”

“Hey Frank. How are you doing?” McAlister nearly laughed at the greeting he gave, given the situation.

“About as well as can be expected. What the hell is going on?”

“Are you in the air yet? Have you been briefed?”

“First answer: Yes. Just took off from Andrews not long ago. Second: No. People are still getting situated. The Air Force colonel with me is setting a brief up in the conference room for everyone in ten minutes. When I got on board, I said I wanted to speak to you as soon as I could. Is the President with you?”

Jesus, he doesn’t know, McAlister realized. Well, there was no time to soften the blow. “He’s not here. Frank. There’s a lot going on. The briefing will get you up to speed but for now here’s the situation in a nutshell, for your ears only. The President is dead.” He outlined the attack, the discovery of Marine One and then got to the next order of business. “We haven’t been able to find the Vice President yet. They’re looking, but no idea how long it will be. The Speaker of the House is next in line. You’d better get him to the phone now. He’s the acting president.”

“Shit,” Browne whispered softly as the magnitude of what was happening struck home. “Chris, there’s something you should know,” he said after ten further seconds of silence.

“What is it?”

“The Speaker is incapacitated. Once he realized what had happened it triggered a nervous breakdown. His family was on a flight coming back from vacation down in the Caribbean. The flight surgeon here had to sedate him heavily. He’s in no condition to assume the duties now.”

“Oh, God, “ McAlister groaned.

“The president pro tempore?”

“She was in the air so we’re assuming she didn’t make it.”

“Okay. Well,…SecState is out,” Browne continued on, mentally ticking off a list. “Treasury is empty at the moment. Which leaves….”

“Me,” Chris answered flatly. “I’m next.”

“You are. I know you might not like it, Chris. But the country needs you. You’re the president.”

“Brief everyone there. I’ll get back to you in a few.” He hung up and turned to the battle staff commander. “Talk to the aircraft commander and then Omaha. Have NAOC-Alternate head to Barksdale. We’ll rendezvous with them . And have General Coleman get another aircraft to DC as soon as possible.”
“Yes Sir. Anything else?” McAlister thought for a minute.

“Yeah. Make sure there’s a judge waiting for us in Louisiana.”

Final Days of America Narrative: Chapter 5 Untitled Part II

Posted on August 6, 2023 by Mike

“We are prepared to offer assistance in every manner.” This promise came from the British Prime Minister and was probably the sincerest McAlister had heard from a foreign leader thus far. America’s allies, like most of America, were still in shock and not yet entirely aware of the severity of the crisis.

“I appreciate that, Mr. Prime Minister.” he responded. “We will be back in touch with you soon.” The connection ceased. “How much longer before NAOC-Alternate gets to Andrews?”

“Twenty minutes, Mr. Secretary,” the battle force brigadier answered then left the conference room. General Warner walked in next and sat down. The link to Omaha was reestablished.

“General Coleman let’s take a few minutes to talk about contingency plans regarding Iran and North Korea.” The Secretary of Defense opened. “Pretty soon we’ll have to brief the Speaker of the House. Let’s discuss what that will entail.”

In US Nuclear War planning, OPLAN 8810-22 offered a variety of contingency plans for small, limited and massive attacks against a number of enemies. Iran and North Korea were two whose plans were revised regularly. In this case, it was a matter of retaliation and on what level. Both countries just launched nuclear attacks against the US. North Korea’s attempted strike failed entirely. Iran’s on the other hand, might’ve succeeded beyond the wildest dreams of the mullahs in Tehran.

8810-22 included a veritable encyclopedia of nuclear warfighting options. As far-fetched as a situation might appear, there was most likely a blueprint for responding to that particular scenario included. McAlister was grateful for that because the current situation was one far out of the realm of possibility. At least it had been until a few hours ago.

“The options are varied as you know,” Coleman handled the introduction. This was his turf. “For this situation our intentions are important to know right off the bat. Will we be going after strictly military targets or civilian targets as well? The answer to this will dictate the weapon types and numbers applied, Mr. Secretary. It’s not the other way around.” Coleman stopped for a long second. “You already know this, sir. I apologize”

“That’s okay, General. Please continue.”

“STRATCOM will need all three arms of the triad. If we’re going to hit back hard, bombers will play a major part. With strategic forces at DefCon 2, I have ordered, under my authority, the dispersal of our strategic bomber force. The force is small now compared to what we had available during the Cold War and its survivability is essential. I’ve also ordered them to start preparing for non-conventional sorties.”

“Include everyone and everything,” McAlister ordered. “Now, let’s go through this all piece by piece.” The two men seated at the table then opened up their folders and stepped into the world of Armageddon. General Coleman in Omaha was already there and waiting.

Author’s Note: Chapter 5 ran short owing to the deletion of a main character and his scenes before editing began. Chapter 6 will be up on Wed or Thurs.

The Final Days of America

Monthly Archives: August 2023