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Authors: Gunnar Duvstig

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BOOK: The Nightmare Scenario
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“I agree,” said the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. “If you want this watertight, Mr. President, it’ll have to be the army. Let me ask you this, though, Dr. Hughes. To get a well-coordinated deployment, we need about twelve hours for planning, assuming there’s a good idea of what choke points to go after. Would you go for a well-planned deployment in twelve hours, or a slightly more chaotic one launched immediately?”

“If we get the airports shut down and National Guard on the interstates, I think you will, for protecting the West Coast, have time for a twelve hour delay. The East Coast quarantine is more urgent.”

“Admiral,” said Hank, “we have a complete plan for deployment. We know which chokepoints matter. We’ll send it through immediately.”

“Okay,” said the president, “General, I want you to put together a plan for ‘Operation Emergency Lockdown.’ You have eight hours.”

“There’s one problem we need to deal with before we start launch the operation,” said the Chief of Staff. “Once again, according to the Posse Comitatus Act, the president cannot deploy the army in what can be considered as law enforcement activities without congressional approval. The exceptions are insurrection, domestic violence, unlawful combination, or conspiracy, and this situation hardly qualifies as any of those. The only forces exempt and available for use without
approval from Congress are the twenty thousand infantry soldiers under NORTHCOM command.”

“I thought the last president took care of this somehow?” said the president.

“No, unfortunately not, Mr. President. The law was amended by the Defense Authorization Bill in 2006, allowing for exceptions in the case of epidemics, but this bill was repealed in 2008. We are back to the language of the Insurrection Act of 1807.”

“What about declaring martial law?”

“Same problem. You can only lawfully do that in case of an insurrection.”

“I’m so sick of States’ Rights I could vomit,” said the president. “Well, get me the Speaker of the House. This is one time when getting Congress’s support should be easy.”

“You would have thought,” continued the president, “that someone could’ve figured this out a couple of days ago, so we we’d have had Congressional approval already.”

“Well,” said Hank, “technically, that type of a recommendation, as it’s military in nature, is supposed to come from Fort Detrick, not the CDC.”

The president sighed. “Clearly throwing that guy out was the right call. I want him fired and Hank put in charge of whatever resources they have.”

“And give Dr. Hughes whatever security clearance he needs. I don’t know whether he would pass a vetting according to our normal protocols – no offense,
Dr. Hughes – but I am pretty sure he’s not a North Korean spy.”

The president rose and extended his hand to Aeolus. “And for Christ’s sake, get the man some decent quarters.”

Aeolus rose and shook the president’s hand. Finally he was on the inside. No need to hide who was the smartest guy in the class any longer.

UT VETERA
VINCULA
RUMPERE

(As old bonds break)

AUGUST 22
ND
, 4 P.M., PATIENT WARD, WHO REGIONAL OFFICE, SHAM NATH MARG, NEW DELHI

R
ebecca gently patted Roger’s sweating forehead with a towel. His temperature was 105. She brushed a lock of his brown hair aside, cursing her latex gloves for preventing the human contact he needed and she wanted to give.

“You’re going to be fine, Roger,” she said, although she knew that wasn’t true. This morning the characteristic discolorations had started to appear on his neck. His breath was getting shallower and quicker. His death was going to be painful – his lungs slowly filling with blood.

“Sure,” said Roger, with a broad but forced smile. “I feel good. Like a bad cold. It’s no worse than that.” He coughed and drops of blood came up mixed with phlegm.

She wanted to remove her protective gear, to care for him properly. She wanted to give him all the affection she could in these last hours. But breaking isolation was equivalent to resigning her post. It would mean betraying the trust Aeolus had in her, as well as neglecting her duty as a doctor and the oath she had sworn.

Today, though, she’d spent so much time with Roger that, in a way, she was already disregarding her responsibilities to the point where one could argue she wasn’t fit to serve.

She administered the anti-viral drugs she knew would be ineffective, to give Roger the feeling that he was being cared for and treated. She served him tepid tea with a spoon. It was the only thing he could keep down, and only in minute quantities. He didn’t really need it, as hydration and energy were administered intravenously. It was for comfort, not out of necessity.

“Twinkie, don’t leave” said Roger.

“Don’t worry, honey, I’m not going anywhere.”

AUGUST 23
RD
, 10 A.M., THE SITUATION ROOM, PRESIDENTIAL BUNKER TWO, UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

A
eolus entered just after Hank, who had gotten over his bout of lethargy and was once again projecting militaristic determination. His open support of Aeolus in the confrontation with Fort Detrick was a peace offering Aeolus quickly accepted. There was still tension between them, but they were now on the same team and had broadly the same views of how to move forward.

They’d decided to brief the president together, iron out whatever differences they had beforehand and stand united in their recommendations. They agreed that they needed to shorten the debate in the room to increase the speed of decision-making, as well as increase president’s confidence in making the tough decisions.

This was their first joint briefing. As Aeolus organized his papers on the conference table, the pulsing headache that had plagued him since his arrival in the bunker came back with force. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Two deep breaths later, the headache had subsided.

He cleared his throat and began.

“Mr. President, we now have five confirmed cases in Philadelphia and three in Baltimore. We have no proper back-trace and hence no containment of the infection within the cities. It saddens me to say so, but if we look at the experiences in the rest of the world, I would consider these cities lost.

“Furthermore, Fort Bragg is now up to twelve hospitalized. Given the lack of cases in the surrounding areas, we believe the outbreak is confined to the base. The base is properly quarantined and nothing is going to be coming out of there.

“As we thought, the infection got out of Philadelphia, and I would suggest that this is the source of the two new cases we have, which are in Dover and Reading, as well as the various suspected cases in the small towns surrounding Philadelphia.

“This is all to be expected, given where we stood yesterday. The good news is we have nothing west of Pennsylvania or east of the Colorado River, which Hank assures me is completely locked down.

Aeolus realized something was wrong when he saw the frown on the president’s face and Hank’s expression of confused concern.

He cleared his throat again. “That is, the Hudson River, I meant to say, the Hudson River.” He shook off the embarrassment and continued.

“As for Europe, as an example of a landmass that has moved to city-wise quarantines we have lost Paris, London and Rome, but all major cities in Iberia, Germany apart from Berlin, Scandinavia and Russia are holding. As for southeastern Europe, we’re not certain at this point.”

That concluded the medical part of the briefing, which was Aeolus’s responsibility, and the topic now turned to the status of the quarantine efforts, which was Hank’s area.

“Mr. President. The NORTHCOM force being the only one available to us before the authorization of Congress, we chose to deploy half of it along the Hudson River and northwards along that longitude. We still have hope that the virus had yet to cross it. As Dr. Hughes said, we have no cases yet to the east of it, and I can assure you that
no one
will be crossing through that line now. It’s completely locked down. New York is, hopefully, saved, as is the whole of New England.”

“New York is saved?” the president exclaimed, “But you have sacrificed New Jersey. That’s almost nine million people!”

“I’m sorry, Mr. President. These are tough decisions but we are all in agreement that this is the choice that was expected to maximize the number of lives saved. It might sound harsh, but what matters in a situation like this is not who is right, but who is left.”

“As for the rest of the country,” continued Hank, “all air traffic has ceased and interstate highways are closed. Most major cities have instituted quarantines to the best of their abilities. So far, it’s enforced by local police, FBI and whatever parts of the National Guards they’ve been able to scramble up. Major inbound roads are shut down, but the enclosures are by no means airtight at this stage.

“Lastly we have reports of voluntary quarantines in many small towns throughout the Midwest, enforced by citizen guards. Given the media coverage we’re getting, this is to be expected.”

“That should be good, right?” asked the president.

“I’m not sure about that, Mr. President,” said Aeolus. “A militia with shotguns, manning country roads, shooting at anything that moves, doesn’t sound like a dream situation to me. What we need are proper quarantines enforced by professionals with non-lethal violence, not a bunch of trigger-happy guys in a pick-up truck.”

AUGUST 23
RD
, 4 P.M., HIGHWAY 159, SOUTH-WEST-BOUND, NEARING TARLTON, OHIO

T
he Hagedorns had been on the road for forty-eight hours. They kept themselves updated with the radio, the occasional TV broadcast at roadside diners and speaking with fellow ‘runners’, as they and people like them had become known.

They knew that the larger cities were under quarantine and many smaller towns were closing too. Mike figured that the best way to reach safety would be to get to a city that was not quarantined, but also not yet infected. The problem was that there was no way to know which ones were. What looked like a safe haven could be a death trap, waiting to close.

He decided their best course of action was to stay in smaller towns and gradually head west. Then they would try to sneak through the quarantine into some
bigger city that was still clean a week after the initiation of the lockdown.

The problem was that gas stations, as well as motels and diners, were shutting down at a rapid pace. They hadn’t eaten the entire day and their stock of water was running low, forcing them to ration it. The kids were scared and thirsty, and Mike was getting increasingly stressed.

As they approached Tarlton, a small town of three hundred, they saw a roadblock built of tires and two men standing post on opposite sides of the blockade. Mike slowed the car to a crawl, acknowledging them, but continued driving toward the barricade.

Mike heard the man on the right shouting something, but couldn’t make out the words over the sound of the motor. He drove closer.

Suddenly the left man fired a rifle into the air. Mike stopped the car and stepped out.

“This town is under quarantine. We don’t have any infection yet and we don’t want none. No one’s allowed in. If you come any closer we’ll open fire.”

Mike shouted back. “We’re not infected. We got out of Philadelphia before the infection hit. We have tests to prove it. We picked them up at a clinic in Lancaster.”

“I don’t know about them tests and for sure I don’t trust them. We’re taking no chances. You have to turn around.”

“We’re running out of supplies. You have to help us. We have kids with us and we don’t have enough water for them. We need water. That’s all. Then we can move on.”

“Sorry to hear that, man, but we can’t help you.”

Mike waved his kids out of the car in hopes of arousing sympathy from the two men.

“Look, I’m sure you’re God-fearing and righteous folk. Look at my kids. They could die if we don’t get water.” It was a slight exaggeration, but what else was he supposed to do?

“I don’t care for about me, but I have to protect my kids. You can understand that.”

The two men muttered to each other. A minute passed by, then one of them shouted back.

“Okay, Mister, we’ll get you water. This is how it’s gonna work. You back up a hundred yards. Then Jimmy here’ll bring a couple bottles of water and a can of fuel to the midpoint between us. After Jimmy’s back on our side, you’ll walk up, take the water, and then spread the fuel covering every place you’ve set your foot after leaving the car. With good margin! Then get back into the car and set the gasoline on fire. I’m no doctor but I’m pretty sure that fire kills the bug. If you don’t do as we say, we’ll open fire. Jimmy is a pretty good shot, and if he’s forced to fire, he won’t give a damn about you or your kids.”

“Thank you. We owe you. We’ll pray for you and praise God for your generosity.”

The words weren’t exactly his own, but from what from what he had seen on TV it was what people like this would want to hear.

AUGUST 23
RD
, 5 P.M., AEOLUS QUARTERS, PRESIDENTIAL BUNKER TWO, UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

H
ank had arranged special quarters for Aeolus. They were larger than was warranted for a non-military adviser. The room served as both bedroom and study, with a simple bed and a desk, both made of grayish metal. A naked bulb hung from the ceiling and a small desk lamp provided practical, but harsh, lighting.

Hank had also arranged for items he must have thought Aeolus would appreciate. There was a large photo of Ronald Reagan. Aeolus figured Hank must have mistaken the picture of Margaret Thatcher in his Geneva office for support of her political allegiances, rather than her integrity as a person. There was also a bookshelf with a dozen or so books. Either Hank had a very poor taste in books or the available stock in the bunker was severely limited. The only book Aeolus had the slightest interest in rereading was Michael
Crichton’s
The Andromeda Strain
, crammed in between paperback bricks by Tom Clancy and Stephen King.

Sitting at his desk, Aeolus once again pinched his nose in an attempt to alleviate his recurring headache. He didn’t know what caused it, whether it was due to that ever-present unbearable mold-like smell of moist concrete, or something else entirely, but he had to make the pain cease somehow. There was no time for distractions. His nose massage did nothing to help. He could still feel the vein in his right temple pulsating in syncronization with his heart, each beat forcing a momentary contraction of his facial muscles, and clenching of his teeth.

BOOK: The Nightmare Scenario
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