Джон Болл - The First Team

The first surprise came when the unseen announcer followed with, “Speaking for the government of the United States, Senator Solomon Fitzhugh.” Two seconds later the image of the white-haired legislator came onto millions of screens.

He looked into the camera and spoke. “My fellow Americans, I have news for you this evening of the greatest importance; I have been chosen to bring it to you because my sponsors feel that you will know my face and my voice.”

Hundreds of occupying enemy personnel heard those words and assumed that the renowned peacemaker was once again allowing himself to be used. They knew the importance of propaganda and their own mastery of it; where they were directly concerned, they saw to it that the show remained on the air.

“Some months ago,” Fitzhugh continued, “the United States of America was overcome by a superior force. Superior in numbers, in the timing of its operations, and in the degree of surprise with which it struck. The President capitulated, since the outcome was inevitable, in order that the loss of life and property could be kept to a minimum. I genuinely believe that tens of thousands of you are alive to hear me now because of that decision.”

The senator appeared to glance about him for a moment, which was one of his familiar histrionic tricks, then he looked again steadily from the tube. “Our surrender was not complete, however.

Actually we did not surrender as such; hostilities could be resumed at any time. Now they have been.”

Those words caught his audience and guaranteed that the attention being given to him was at a maximum.

“Some time before the war broke out, our government established a supersecret organization headed by the most competent and dedicated people that the President could find. The purpose of this organization, which was code-named Thomas Jefferson, was to provide a basis of resistance in the event that this nation were to be overthrown or occupied by force. It has been continuously active since that tragic event did take place.

“A few weeks ago it arranged to seize back from the enemy a completely armed and equipped ballistic missile nuclear submarine; this extremely potent weapon is now at sea in the hands of the United States Navy. It is carrying more than one hundred and sixty nuclear warheads and is capable of attacking any target of military importance anywhere in the world. The power of this single submarine is overwhelming. It can completely erase almost any nation on earth.

“At present the United States government, as represented by the Thomas Jefferson organization, has no intention of ordering this submarine to fire, for such an action would mean a fearful loss of life. But, on behalf of the President, whose spokesman I now am, I am authorized to say that this ship will fire, against the homeland of our enemies, unless certain conditions are met. Here they are: “There shall be a gradual withdrawal of the occupying forces now in this country; they shall begin leaving as soon as practical and shall return home at approximately the same rate that they came over. Those who may wish to seek political asylum here will be given consideration.

“Through orderly process, and without bloodshed, the government of the United States shall be returned to the people. After this has been accomplished, we will be prepared to enter into negotiations with our former enemies to establish a new era of peaceful understanding and mutual cooperation. We pledge ourselves to extract no reprisals. Let this conflict be resolved between intelligent people who have no wish to destroy each other. We now have the power to carry out such destruction, but we have no desire to use it.

“It is fearful to think that in a matter of minutes we could wipe out almost every significant military facility that our present enemies possess and millions of people at the same time. We could lay waste to their entire country with nuclear salvos that would deliver ten or more separate warheads at virtually the same moment. Some might be stopped, but some surely would get through. And with each such salvo, the resulting destruction would be overwhelming, the loss of life staggering. This force we pray to God we will not have to use. But if the terms I have been directed to spell out are not met, then use it we will until they are. Thank you and goodnight.”

Almost immediately through the nation, from coast to coast, in great cities and small communities, Americans talked excitedly about the broadcast and told those who had not heard what had been said. The lights burned long into the night. In some areas there was minor violence and the men of the occupying forces for the most part wisely remained out of sight. It was a turning point, the first great dawning of hope that all was not permanently lost. People openly wept, and a great many sought the sanctuary of their churches. Impromptu services were organized, on street corners and in cathedrals.

In the synagogues the sounds of thanksgiving were heard and then all was still once more. For the enemy force was fearfully powerful and one single submarine was all that challenged it. It was well that in that time of great emotional feeling only a very small handful of Americans knew that there was a good chance that the U.S.S. Ramon Magsaysay was manned only by a crew of dead men and that she lay rusting somewhere on the bottom of an unnamed Arctic sea.

There was not a resident of Washington who did not know that he was sitting on top of a time bomb. The enemy operated from Washington and his presence there was in constant, inflexible evidence. The challenge to his power, and his authority, could be met with submission, but the people of Washington did not expect that. They had seen too much, and had heard too much more, to believe in any such utopia. The enemy would answer, they knew that, and the only question that held them in suspense was made up of three parts: how, when, and where.

Colonel Rostovitch did not leave them long in doubt. He had anticipated, very closely, what his opposition would do, and when the message did come, his response was planned and ready. The operational orders had been given out; his people had been alerted. All of them had been carefully chosen for their work and down to the last man none of them wanted in any way to cross, or even displease the fearsome man who was now effectively in charge of the country.

All during the following day announcements were made over every radio and TV station broadcasting to the general public that the answer to the Thomas Jefferson ultimatum would be given that evening at seven. Throughout the country some few dared to hope, but none in Washington. At a little after ten in the morning a squad of men sped through the streets toward Senator Fitzhugh’s home. With speed and expert technique they set it afire and burned it to the ground; before midafternoon the brick walls that had remained standing after the blaze had been knocked down. His office, too, was systematically gutted and the woman who had served as his secretary for some fourteen years was seized together with her husband. More enemy personnel than had ever been seen before patrolled the streets; people stayed in their homes. Those who had gone to work slipped away and came home early. The time bomb that was Washington ticked on toward its inexorable deadline.

In the hospital Feodor Zalinsky continued to receive the careful medical attention that his condition merited. Several times messengers came to his room, but he summoned none and required only that the television set with which he had been provided be kept continuously on. He was still in considerable pain and his recuperation was progressing more slowly than had been expected.

The White House staff kept as far from the Oval Office as possible and, when they had to go anywhere, they walked as quietly as they were able. Not everyone in the city knew the name of Colonel Gregor Rostovitch, but those who did trembled. With agonizing deliberation the hands of clocks throughout the capital marked the slow passage of time and measured off the hours and minutes remaining before the answer would be given.