Gnash (15 page)

An airman called out the latest tracked path of the missile.  The updated estimated time to impact was in fifty-five seconds.  The digital clock on the wall reset to reflect the new estimate, they’d lost over ten seconds from the previous estimate.  Marie gripped her husband’s hand tighter than he imagined possible and sobbed shamelessly into his shoulder.  Blood-red numbers dwindled down to zero and nothing happened.  No one dared to breathe.  Precious seconds ticked by and still nothing happened.  Then, one-by-one the televisions airing the local broadcasts went blank.

All eyes turned to the delayed-feed from the satellite positioned over Washington.  A large fireball appeared between the District and Annapolis, Maryland.  From the aerial view they could see the super-heated dust cloud radiating at high speed from the point of impact.  The cloud sped out for thirty or forty miles in all directions, over-taking the capitol and every living soul within the region.  The cloud slowed and suddenly collapsed in on itself.  That was the air rushing back in to fill void created when everything at the impact site was vaporized. 

Buildings that had withstood the initial blast of heat and radiation collapsed under the pressure of the returning winds.  The president breathed a silent prayer for the 5.3 million people in the metro area who were likely dead or going to die from the attack.  The environmental damage that occurred during the blast to the local area was substantial, but the damage to the entire region from the fallout would be insurmountable.  The United States would likely never recover from the devastation that the new French president had just caused. 

He began to shake as he thought about all the loss and the future of the nation, if there would even be a nation after today.  “General Thompson, I’ve made my decision, about option three.  Within the hour, I want bombers from Aviano Air Base over Paris.  The target is Jean-Pierre Gutmont and the French Parliament.  I want them leveled.  I don’t want to hear that he survived in a bunker, I want him to disappear.  Understand?”

“Got it sir,” Pete Thompson said as he gestured an aide over to his side.

The president looked over at his Chief of Staff and said, “John, set up a room so I can issue a statement.  Contact all the usual agencies…I mean, contact the news organizations that are left and let them know we will be broadcasting a statement so they can carry it.”

“Yes Mr. President,” he replied as he picked up the phone and began dialing numbers from memory.

***

24 April, 1000 hrs local

Mount Weather 

Fauquier County, Virginia 

President Holmes adjusted the worn leather office chair that he sat in and pulled himself up to the metal desk.   The broadcast studio was old, but serviceable and the members of his staff that were still alive had done their best to clean everything to a presentable level.  The military maintained the facility, but the accommodations left a lot to be desired. 
Guess we all have to get used to this, we’ll be in here for a few days until it’s safe to be transported to a different location
, he thought. 

He glanced at the Seal of the President of the United States suspended on the wall behind him.  He’d seen the seal hundreds, if not thousands of times over the course of his political life, first as a Senator, then as the Vice-President, and most recently, as the president, but he’d never seen this version before.  The seal was almost identical to the one he was used to, but after careful study, he finally caught what was different about it.  He chuckled to himself as he realized that this seal had only forty-eight stars surrounding the eagle.  The plaque must have been placed here before Eisenhower’s revision in 1960 which added two stars for the states of Alaska and Hawaii when they joined the union.

He cleared his throat, “Alright, I’m ready.”  The military actually had replaced the audio/visual equipment in the office recently and the entire room dimmed noticeably as the president was illuminated by a light directly overhead.  The light on the camera turned from green to red and the ancient sign on the far wall lit up indicating that the broadcast was now on the air. 

“My fellow Americans, the nation grieves today at the immense loss that has been visited on us.  At approximately 8:45 this morning, the United States was a victim of a callous and cowardly attack by the nation of France, our long-time ally and partner.  I was informed by the French president, Mr. Gutmont, that he had taken matters into his own hands to stop the spread of the virus that was released at the Pentagon by launching a nuclear missile from a submarine cruising in the Atlantic Ocean.

“As I’m sure you are already aware, this missile detonated between five and ten miles to the east of Washington, D.C.  We have been unable to assess the damage on the ground this early, but I’ve seen the aerial photographs and there is grievous damage to the area.  The initial estimates are that four-to-five million of America’s innocent civilians have been murdered. 

“The President of France will tell the world that he did this to stop the virus from reaching Europe.  However, we had the situation under control and were close to a remedy for those infected.  This was the act of a cruel man brought to power by another tragedy in the recent past, not one who was freely elected to his post by the peace-loving people of France.

“America will not stand by and allow this attack to go unpunished.  We will ensure that those responsible for murder of our citizens are brought to justice.  I urge the United Nations to authorize the arrest of the entire French government and the members of their military that are responsible for this act.  God help the nation of France as they attempt to deal with the madmen in their country and wrestle with how to bring them to justice.

“We
will
rebuild the nation’s capital.  America will not fail because of the acts of a small group of insane people.  I will broadcast daily at this time to keep the nation informed of our progress.  God bless America as we cope with this catastrophe.  Good day.”

***

24 April, 1609 hrs local

Élysée Palace 

Paris, France 

“I told you that our gambit would pay off,” Jean-Pierre Gutmont said as he watched the television broadcast of the American president end.  He looked over at his intelligence chief and continued, “The Americans have always been too afraid to do what is necessary.  This disease could have been the end of mankind, but I stopped it.  I may be demonized now, but history will remember what I did today as crucial and right…What is that noise Remy?” he walked to the window in time to see the Palais Bourbon across the River Seine in the 7
arrondissement explode into a gigantic fireball.

He picked up the phone on his desk and dialed the number to the Admiral of the Marine Nationale, the French Navy.  “Admiral, this is Gutmont.  The Americans have retaliated against us.  I release authority for further nuclear launches to you.  Attack multiple targets within the United States.  Au revoir vieil ami.”  President Gutmont heard the engines of the American B-2 bomber, but he never knew what happened as America’s wrath came down upon him. 

In the coastal city of Cherbourg, Admiral Aubrac received a second phone call informing him that Élysée Palace and the Palais Bourbon were destroyed in an apparent air raid, all inside were assumed dead.  He breathed a sigh of relief and shredded the hand-written order to his Executive Officer concerning the president’s instructions and the launch codes for the remaining missiles.  Then he signed the letter to his wife and placed his wedding ring on top of the fleet stationery.  

He calmly cocked the hammer on his PAMAS G1
[16]
and placed the barrel and slide assembly in his mouth.  He carefully tilted the weapon until he knew the round would penetrate his palate and enter his brain.  Around the barrel he mumbled the Hail Mary, “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.” He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the trigger.

FIRST INTERLUDE

24 April, 0817 hrs local

Karakoram Mountain Range

Afghanistan-Pakistan Border

Malik al-Nusurim wiped the sweat from his face and reached into the bowl of water set beside the entrance to the cave.  He carefully washed away the grime from his two-hour hike from his cave to this one.  Even in the early morning, it was already a strange mix of bitter cold and oppressive humidity in the mountains.  Once he was sure he was presentable, he replaced the satchel that he’d brought with him back on his shoulder.  He checked the contents one more time and stepped into the darkness.

After several steps along the well-worn floor he was halted by a guard who searched him for hidden weapons.  Even though he was known to these men, they were diligent to their duty of protecting the elite members of the Brotherhood.  When they were satisfied that he posed no threat he was led by the hand to the wall and told to wait while they uncovered the secret entrance to the Brotherhood’s lair. 

The cavern that he was standing in was suddenly filled with torchlight as the doors opened.  He walked forward and was greeted by the many women and young boys lounging on cushions within the first chamber.  Every skin color was represented for the various desires of the Masters and they were casually smoking hashish from hookah pipes, obviously not concerned with the
jihad
that they were a part of.  He passed through the room into a hallway carved in the rock of the mountains.  It wasn’t as brightly lit as the first room, but the light was sufficient for him to see several more hallways intersecting with this one.

The hallway opened to another small chamber that held several guards.  He told the commander of the guard that he had an urgent report to issue to the Brotherhood.  The guard disappeared behind a rug hanging from the wall.  al-Nusurim clasped his hands behind his back and waited until he was told to enter by the guard who returned from behind the tapestry.

When he was allowed to enter, he marveled at the size of the cavern used for meetings and business.  It was truly amazing that this chamber was created hundreds of years ago and had been in use by the Brotherhood since the British expansion into the region during the nineteenth century.  The room was easily bigger than the classroom where he’d taken computer science at Berkeley.  There were multiple tapestries on the walls here too and he believed they led to the private chambers of the Brotherhood members, but he would probably never know.

“Ah, Malik.  As-salaam aleikum,” the man sitting in the center of the chamber said to him.

“Wa aleikumm e-salaam Master,” he replied in kind.

“What is this we hear of a report?  You have news of our enemies?  Sit, and tell us what you know,” the Master said as he gestured to a cushion across from him.  He and four other men occupied similar pillows around a low table set with a carafe of cinnamon anise tea and a pot of qishr
[17]
with demitasse cups for serving.

He pulled several printed pages from his satchel and sat on the indicated cushion.  He adjusted his legs so that he was balanced perfectly and then said, “Masters, I have most wondrous news for you.  It is a great day for the Brotherhood!  The situation at the American Pentagon overwhelmed the infidels and the creatures escaped.”

“This is great news Malik, we must celebrate!” the man who had previously spoken to him said as he clapped for a servant’s attention.

“But Master, there is so much more.”

“Go on then,” the Master with the Yemenite accent said as he gestured with his hands to indicate that Malik should continue. 

“Yes Master.  When the new French president, the man who replaced the one the Brotherhood assassinated, found out about the creatures’ escape, he ordered a nuclear attack on Washington, D.C.,” he paused for effect as the five men stared at him.  “Masters, the American capital is no more!  A nuclear bomb detonated just outside the city a little over three hours ago.  Look, I have satellite pictures of the city after the bomb.” He thrust the papers he’d been clutching forward for their examination.

The senior member of the Brotherhood grabbed them and passed the photos around one-by-one as he completed looking at them.  After many long moments of silence, the Yemenite asked, “You are sure of this Al-Nusurim?  This is not some American trick?”

“I have seen the American president give a speech to his nation.  He announced that Washington, D.C. was destroyed.  He even made a request that the United Nations arrest the Frenchman.”  He waited until the laughter died down, “He is unwilling to use nuclear weapons of his own, as you’ve always said he was Master.”

“Of course I am right.  The infidels do not possess the capability to do what is necessary to defend themselves.  They rely on empty threats with no action.  The world will rise against their imperialist expansions now that the truth about their cowardice is known!”

The senior master chopped his hand across the air, “Yes, we will be victorious.  Malik, I need you to send a message to the doctor, it is time he made another appearance on the television.  Ensure the speech he reads criticizes the Americans for allowing the creatures to escape and praises the French for their heroic acts to save humanity.”

“Yes Master, it will be done.”

NINE

25 April, 1712 hrs local

Military Decontamination and Infection Control Site #3

Near Culpepper, Virginia

Her skin felt like it was on fire.  She could feel rough hands holding her down and some type of cold abrasive liquid being scrubbed all over her naked body with a brush or rough towel.  Each time one of the hands scoured her with the instrument it felt like her skin was being sliced down to the muscle and she screamed uncontrollably.

Finally, they were done and the hands that held her down released her.  A cool spring breeze blew across her unprotected body, temporarily easing the pain.  She opened her eyes and saw six people huddled near her wearing large contamination suits.  They conferred with each other, but their words wear unintelligible to her.  They seemed to reach an agreement and once more four of them held her down and the other two began to scrub her skin again with long-handled brushes.