Kill civilians, he means, Sophie thought.
“Now,” continued the President. “You might think this is overkill, and I’d like to hope that it is, however, we don’t want another 9/11. They caught us with our pants down then and we’re still smarting. Let me tell you why we’re doing this and I think you’ll agree it’s the right action. We’re quarantining southern Florida as there has been a chemical leak.”
It’s not a leak, thought Sophie. It’s the Bubonic Plague. You must warn them. Tell them the truth.
“This is only a precaution, but we think the effects are contagious, so with immediate effect all airplanes are grounded, ships, boats, all water-based crafts the same. We’re patrolling the waters and no one is to leave. I cannot emphasize this enough, we must have a full quarantine or it does not work.”
“People of Florida, help is on its way. The military will be amongst you with medical staff, we will need to check you out and give you the all clear. We will have medical centers, the first one will be at the Marlins Park in Miami, and other sports arenas will follow. As this is a holiday weekend those of you that can, stay away from work-places.” His breathing suddenly labored and he paused briefly, and then corrected himself and smiled.
Sophie leaned towards her television; he’s not well, she thought, when something caught her eye. She pressed ‘pause’ on the remote control and the broadcast froze on the President’s image. She touched the screen. She had caught a glimpse of an IV tube by his wrist. She pondered this then pressed ‘play’ to hear the rest of the broadcast. “It’s best not to interact with your fellow citizens, cover your nose and mouth with cloth, and PLEASE make your way to the nearest refugee center where you will be given an antidote.”
There is no antidote. Sophie thought.
“Thank you for your co-operation and God bless us all.”
Sophie was thankful that Quinn Martell had managed to impress upon the President the gravity of the situation, even if they were burying the truth, which she could sort of understand, the last thing they needed was wide-scale panic. She smiled thinking of how Luke as a broadcaster would have loved to know the truth and blurt the story to the world without any thought of the consequences, as long as he had his all-important scoop.
Sophie believed firmly in the truth. She could still remember growing up in her Latin-American homeland, where the ‘truth’ was the least of her worries, where the tin-pot government ruled with an iron fist, shooting the protectors of the truth, the dissenters like her father, God rest his soul. He’d been a vocal political opponent, who’d naively believed that the truth would be his savior. She still remembered the night, when the government’s bullyboys kicked down the front door, and dragged him from his bed. Her mother screamed and was pistol whipped into silence. Her father bravely struggled, but was over-powered and dragged from their home fighting for his life, and Sophie never saw him again.
During the small hours of the following night, her mother had woken her, dressed her quickly and they’d fled in the clothes they were wearing. Two fishermen who were part of the underground network of sympathizers who wanted to overthrow the two-bit government met them. The fishermen hated the junta who dished out jobs for family and friends living the high-life, while the poor paid more taxes as the government provided less. Even the fishermen, were forced into minor smuggling to avoid starvation.
The trip was largely uneventful, although Sophie constantly thought the boat might capsize. They eventually made it to the Florida coastline where the coast guard intercepted them and instantly interned them into an enormous refugee camp. The encampment ran like their old county, gangs of roaming bullyboys demanding money with menaces from their weaker compatriots. Criminals normally put to death in the homeland had escaped and were now claiming political asylum, starting their criminal activities all over again in the adopted country.
Sophie and her mother processed through the system. Her mother a highly skilled surgeon, had trained in the US, and had been welcomed with open arms. Naturalized, Sophie was absorbed into the local state school. Her sultry latin good looks made her popular with the guys and therefore extremely unpopular with the girls. The in-crowd mimicked her accent, shunned her and called her a wetback. She tried to blend in, pinning her long hair up and wearing unfashionable glasses in the hope of gaining less attention from the boys. She would try and make friends with new kids, but before long she’d tell them her origins and the name calling started and she knew that she’d never be accepted as a ’proper’ American.
Her attention drew back to the TV where the animated news anchors analyzed the quarantine-zone to death, never having a story like it and never would again. It made her think of Luke again and she smiled. How he’d have loved to be in the thick of it, then she remembered he said he was flying to London. She wondered if he was on one of the recalled airplanes.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell.
She answered the door and was astonished to see two soldiers dressed in full biological warfare suits.
11:10 AM
At President Burgess’s Florida summer compound, doctors fussed over him the moment the broadcast ended. The message to the nation had physically drained him. He slumped back in his chair the second the red-light indicator blinked off the camera he had addressed. He sat at a desk in a mock-up of his office, and the doctor helped him back into bed.
The doctor checked his pulse and shook his head, “Sir, your blood pressure is off the chart. You must relax.”
“How the hell can I relax?”
“At least let me give you a sedative.”
“I cannot be subdued; I need my wits about me. There is too much to be done.”
“You must give control to the VP, otherwise I seriously doubt you’ll last the day.”
“As bad as that?”
The doctor nodded gravely.
11:15 PM
In the Pentagon war room after receiving the most important telephone call of his life, Vice President Hamilton Parker, a proper blue blood from the Boston upper crust slapped his hands together in glee. “President Burgess is incapacitated. Which means as of now, I’m in control. So let’s get things moving with alacrity.” He noticed the dumb-look from General Malloy. “Speed, Jack. Let’s get moving with speed. None of this ‘wait and see’ nonsense. If there’s a problem in Florida I will solve it with a force so strong it’ll make their heads spin.”
The general thumped the desk making people jump. “That’s more like it! Let’s nuke those wet-back, liberal faggots to kingdom come.”
Quinn Martell leaped up. “Now, hang on, one goddamned minute.”
The Vice President smiled and held up his hands to placate him. “We’re not going to nuke anyone — yet. However, we are going to step this up a few notches. My intel reports are telling me it’s more likely a terrorist attack. And if we’re attacked we’re going to damn well retaliate, fast and furiously.”
Quinn Martell said. “Mister Vice President, if you would indulge me for one moment,” Hamilton nodded and Quinn continued. “My sources tell me this has all the signs of a viral disease, and it’s vital we properly prepare for this. We need to quarantine the sick, evacuate the—”
“I’m not about to try and evacuate south Florida. Where would we house tens of millions of evacuees for Christ’s sake?”