“Furthermore,” Boyle continued, “many people have decided to remain and ride it out despite our recommendations to evacuate.”
“Those fools don’t know what they are up against,” Under Secretary Robertson added to the conversation.
“Stephen, I want all of our people out of harm’s way by 5:30,” President Clark said. “If there are those who insist on risking their lives foolishly, then it’s their decision. I won’t risk the lives of the good men and women under our authority for the sake of fools and looters.”
“I’ll make sure all departments get that directive, Mr. President,” FEMA Director Boyle stated.
“Mr. President, I think we have basically covered all contingencies on this crisis,” Robertson said optimistically. “By our actions today, many American lives will have been spared a tragic death.”
“No, James,” the President countered. “We owe most of this to Turner and his associates on Tenerife. If it wasn’t for them, we would have been blindsided by this act of terrorism. They're the real heroes on this day.”
The Oval Office became strangely quiet as each reflected on the massive undertaking that lie before them. Alan Clark’s mind couldn’t stop thinking about Senator Dobson. Why was he so insistent on the missile strike? My gut tells me he’s hiding something, he thought in a troubled manner. The buzzing phone interrupted his silent respite.
“Yes, Maggie.”
“Mr. President, I have Peter Markson from the U.S. Geological Survey on the line.”
“Put him through, Maggie,” he replied as Markson’s voice came on the other end of the line.
“Mr. President, I thought you should be aware that according to our calculations, the wave will be somewhat less in size than predicted. Our field scientist on La Palma reported that approximately one half of the predicted land mass slid into the sea. This should have a negating effect on its size when it reaches the mainland of the United States.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” Clark responded, relieved to hear any positive news under these circumstances. “What can we expect as far as wave height?”
“It’s difficult to be precise, but our people feel we may see a tsunami run-up of thirty to fifty feet, possibly more. Seeing we have no tsunami buoys in the Atlantic Ocean, it’s a best guess scenario. We are pretty sure that the worst of the wave will impact the Mid-Atlantic States.
“Rest assured, Mr. President, there will still be tremendous damage from the momentum of this tsunami. Structural damage will be significant, but its run-up inland should be greatly reduced. Although it is still bad, we think it is likely to affect two to three miles inland from the coast line rather than the original ten to fifteen we predicted,” he said.
“Thank you, Mr. Clarkson. Let us know if you discover anything new. Good-bye,” Clark said, hanging up the phone.
“All we can do now is wait, gentlemen,” President Clark said, folding his hands together. “We wait, and hope for the best.”
39
It was a typical warm summer evening in the posh New Jersey resort town of Atlantic City. Towering hotel casinos lined the beach, and the setting sun’s rays shimmered off their glass facades. Interspersed among the glamorous casinos on the strip were a multitude of high-rise condominiums and apartment complexes, home to many long-time residents who lived and worked in the thriving resorts.
This evening was markedly different. The normally bustling city streets were strikingly devoid of activity, casting the resort area into an eerie silence never before witnessed. The countless tour buses that inundated the town on a daily basis were nowhere to be found. Most had been commandeered by the New Jersey State Emergency Management Team for the evacuation of the city's countless visitors and residents who had no means of escape from the danger zone.
The Atlantic City Medical Center transported its patients to the outlying community hospitals, where they received the care that was needed. Critical patients were being airlifted to specialized facilities in Camden and Philadelphia.
The only people remaining were those who opted to stay, in total disregard of the evacuation order issued earlier in the day. Many residents felt a false sense of security in the numerous casino towers and residential high-rises that lined the beachfront of Pacific Avenue.
There were others that remained in defiance of the evacuation order. Lawless, anarchistic mobs now roamed the silent streets, plundering and looting the vacant shops, stores, and hotels that lined the streets and boardwalk.
These bands of armed gangs were kept at bay by the authorities earlier in the day. However, the emergency management’s mandated retreat from the danger zone at 5:30 allowed the hordes of looters and criminal elements to make their presence known.
Numerous, bloody firefights erupted throughout the city. The most violent were the attempted assaults on the casinos, where outnumbered security personnel did their best to halt the onslaught. The few casinos that completely evacuated were totally ransacked by multitudes of fortune seekers. Overturning and smashing thousands of slot machines on the casino floors, they carried their ill-gotten booty of coins out using table cloths from the many restaurants within.
Hundreds of armed people now wreaked havoc in the streets, committing murders, robbery, and rape on a grand scale. These were the worst of mankind; the debased, cruel, and anarchistic ones. They held no fear of justice and rejected any sense of remorse. They killed for the sheer joy of it, and shot at the occasional state police helicopter that came within range.
Law and justice ceased to exist at this dark moment in time, but a justice more cruel and swift than anyone’s worst nightmare was moments away. Indiscriminate in its fury toward the innocent or the guilty, its unseeing and uncaring malevolence moved in like a veil of death.
At 7:03 PM eastern time, more than a thousand people reveled on the vacant boardwalk and beach. They enjoyed their bounty of stolen money, beer, and liquor, courtesy of many businesses throughout the city. Many violent encounters erupted, most ending in gunfire as bodies lie scattered all along the town’s beaches. It was a massive celebration of lawlessness, with most in attendance intoxicated beyond any semblance of sound reason and oblivious to the fate that was about to consume them.
The New Jersey State Police helicopter approached from the downtown area, flying north towards the midtown section by the beachfront. Under command of the emergency management team stationed off shore in nearby Galloway Township, Trooper Tom Putney was making one final pass in a last ditch effort to warn those who might be foolish enough to remain on ground level.
To his utter amazement, he saw the throngs of people milling on the beach and boardwalk, with many actually swimming in the ocean.
“Command, this is Zulu-Victor-two-six-three. I’m coming up on the mid-town sector now. Be advised, hundreds of people are on the beach and many are in the water. I’m going to try to warn them. Over….” he said, reducing his speed and coming to a hover high above the boardwalk.
“Roger, Zulu-Victor-two-six-three; be alert for weapons fire. Other patrols report being shot at from the ground. Over….” the dispatcher responded.
“Copy that, command, will advise. Out….” Putney replied. He picked up the external PA microphone and switched it on, then began descending toward the boardwalk. “To you people on the beach: you must get to higher ground immediately. Failure to do so will put you at extreme risk of losing your lives,” he shouted into the microphone, above the disturbance of the helicopters rotors.