The President turned on Quinn Martell. “I know what you are up to, you and the Vice-Admiral, I’m not stupid, you know. What you two are plotting between you is treason of the highest order. I’ll have you thrown in jail and executed for this, you see if I don’t.”
“I have no idea what you mean, Mister President.” Quinn said in alarm.
The President nodded at the ever-present armed guard in full dress uniform. “You see my personal guard over there, I can order him to shoot you, you know?”
The young guard’s eyes registered shock, flicked to the President for a split second then eyes front as usual, but he swallowed hard.
“Don’t you believe me?” asked the President sinisterly.
“I, erm, I, I’m not entirely—”
A sharp rap on the door broke the tension and Vice-Admiral Reed entered. He extended his arm to shake, but the President waved his hand away. “Ah, conspirator number two,” the President jeered, “Come on in, come join the party.”
Reed looked from one man to the other. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow?”
Hamilton Parker circled the desk. “You two.” He pointed from one man then to the other. “I know all about your plotting and your secrecy, I know everything. I’ve been listening in on Quinn’s telephone calls to you. They made highly interesting listening too, I might add. You were going to try and have me subpoenaed, claiming I’m unfit for office on medical grounds, saying I’m mentally unbalanced?” His voice rose to a screech. “I’m as sane as any man in this goddamned room. I’m under enormous pressure, you know. I’m facing an unprecedented end of the world catastrophe. Can you even start to imagine the pressure I’m under? Who knows how I’m meant to behave. We’re being attacked by an unknown enemy country. We don’t know who to retaliate against, but, boy when I find out.” He smacked his fist into the palm of his hand, “They won’t know what’s hit them. I’ll unleash a counter attack unlike anything the world has ever seen. These terrorists have picked on the US for the last time. I have my people working on this problem. The moment we find out who is behind the releasing of this plague we will bomb the bastards out of existence, show these goddamned rag-heads for the last time that we are not to be messed with, we’ve had enough of playing the nice guy, and we have turned the cheek for the last time. Mess with us at your peril, the US of A will not tolerate any transgressions, and that means we will demand the respect of the worlds’ leaders or they’ll damn well know about it. It’s about time that this great country had a leader to match the power that we are capable of and that man is me.” He leaned on his desk and added. “But first I’m going to start worming-out the lily-livered appeasers at home trying to undermine me — like you two.”
“Mister President,” the vice-admiral finally found his voice. “I’m not entirely sure what you think the surgeon general and I have done?”
“You two are plotting against me for starters. Trying to remove me from power is tantamount to attempting to overthrow the government. That is a treasonable offence for which I could have you executed.” He chuckled to himself and watched them squirm in discomfort.
“Nothing could be further from the truth,” said the vice-admiral. “Our intentions are only for the good of the country, and keeping stability throughout the world.”
“My, my, aren’t we noble,” he said sarcastically. “How altruistic. So, no plans for your own political ambitions?” said the President, but he could see the vice-admiral looked baffled. “Let me explain; who stands next in line to be President if I were removed, hmm?”
“Well… normally it’d be the Vice President, which we don’t have…” the President made a hand gesture for him to continue his line of thought. “Erm, then the Speaker of the House, who, erm, resigned, then… oh!” he said and concluded the succession.
“Ah, the penny’s dropped,” barked the President. “That’s right — the Secretary of Defense — you!” he snapped.
“I assure you nothing was further from my mind, Mister President, I only had the best interests of—”
“Can it, Reed. Save it for your trial. A couple of years in federal prison should give you time to think and repent your crime before you’re execution.”
“Mister President, I think you’re blowing this out of proportion.” chimed Quinn.
The President cut him off. “And you, Quinn, will be sitting right next to him, charged with war crimes.”
“War crimes?” spluttered Quinn. “That’s absurd!”
The President held up a hand, and pressed a button on the intercom on his desk. “Get me security.” He turned and grinned nastily at them and Quinn felt a chill run down his spine.
The President nodded to the armed guard. “Cover these two traitors,” the guard fumbled for his sidearm, unsure what to do, and with a trembling hand pointed it at the two men. “You are under arrest for treason, you sonsofbitches!”
22:30 PM
Sophie had reset Luke’s leg and made a splint from two table-legs. She had also fashioned him a crutch from a tree branch. He hobbled onto the embankment and rummaged through the national guardsman’s belongings trying to find anything of use. “What’s this? Some sort of communications devise?”
“It’s a military satellite phone.”
“Would it work for civilian telephone calls?” he asked.
She felt excited, for the first time in a long while, as they now had a link to the outside world. “We must be sparing with it, I think they’ll be able to trace the call,” she took it from him, and removed the batteries from the compartment. “Even when it is off, the batteries make a signal that can be triangulated and would pin-point our exact location.”
“Let’s call your buddy, the surgeon general.”
“I will soon, but we must get out of here, these guys will be missed, and someone will come looking. Are you up to moving?”
He hoisted the soldiers rifles over his shoulder, tested his weight on the crutch, it appeared to take his weight, and he grimaced. “Sure, let’s go,” he said unconvinced and almost fell back into the canal.
22:45 PM
In the war room, tensions were running high; the remaining chiefs of staff were fighting a losing battle down in southern Florida and knew it. The back-room staff were dealing with reams of information, which in turn made mountainous piles of papers, with each new piece of information analyzed and if necessary forwarded. They faced an avalanche of information overload and it buried them.
The chairman of the chiefs of Staff, Colonel Simpson, known as Homer, to the wittier of his friends, tried to keep order. “What’s the latest from the Jefferson?” he asked above the din.
“No response from the USS Thomas Jefferson, sir,” replied a major.
“Still?”
“No, sir.”
“No communications, again? We need to get them back online. That ship is our eyes and ears down there.”
“Colonel, you don’t think…” the major started to suggest.
“What, that the terrorists have overpowered a six thousand strong contingent of men aboard the most advanced aircraft carrier in the world? No, I don’t think so,” he smiled at the ludicrous suggestion.
“Could the Bubonic Plague have gotten on board, sir?”
“Not a chance, I know Captain Phillips personally, and his rigorous testing for any traces of the Black Death would have been second to none.”