Bobby Akart - First Strike

All of his research led him down a rabbit hole of preparedness websites that seemed to contradict one another at times. He applied his own logic and common sense and formulated a plan for the day.

After Phoebe served breakfast, Hank met with her in the kitchen. Their food suppliers had delivered early that morning, and cases of supplies were stacked in every available square foot of the kitchen and all along the back porch of the main house. They discussed a storage plan, and then Phoebe brought up the issue of their guests.

“Mr. Hank, you know I’m not one to question your decisions,” she began before Hank started laughing.

“Since when?”

“Okay, only once in a while,” she said with a tinge of guilt. “The thing is, I don’t know anything about politics or wars and don’t want to know about nuclear missiles. If you think something is gonna happen, you know, because your lady friend said so or Peter, then we need to make a decision about our guests.”

“They need to go, Phoebe.”

“Yes, Mr. Hank. If you believe this in your heart, you owe it to them to send them home. Some of these folks are from Colorado. That would be a long walk, if you know what I mean.”

His mind immediately shifted to Lacey. California was even longer. He had to convince her to come here. And soon.

“I agree. I’m thinking about telling them the water main between here and the mainland broke. They’ll have to evacuate because we don’t have any fresh water. I can have Laura cancel the incoming reservations.”

“If that’s what you think is necessary,” she added. “I just don’t know, Mr. Hank. It’s kinda like the chicken screamin’ the sky is falling.”

Hank sighed and shifted his feet as he rubbed his heels along the perpetually sand-covered wood floors. “Financially, we could close for more than a month and everything would be fine. It’s just, um, if I wait too long, we’ll be in a mess. I’m in a situation where we can’t support these people. But I feel obligated to take care of them. Every meal we serve them is a meal we won’t have for ourselves.”

Phoebe nodded in agreement. “You sound like you’ve thought it through.”

Hank laughed nervously. “I did last night. A lot, in fact, until I got a headache. To be honest, the nuclear attack this morning just sealed the decision. I’m gonna need to tell everyone in the morning that we can’t refill the water tower because of the water main break, and they have to check out. I’ll start Laura on cancelling the new reservations for the rest of the month right now.”

“Um, Mr. Hank. Are you gonna bring Lacey and Peter home? Family should stick together in troubling times.”

“That’s the next order of business. I’m calling Mike, Peter, and Lacey next. I just hope they’ll listen to me.”

Hank touched base with Peter first to get the latest news. Peter relayed most of the conversation he’d had with the State Department aide as well as a few additional tidbits. Earlier in the day, as the missiles were still flying in South Asia, North Korean president-for-life Kim Jong Un spoke to the DPRK’s 13th Party Congress, the Hermit Kingdom’s highest legislative event. In addition to his usual chest-puffing, he was intent on sending a message to his citizens and the rest of the world as to how dangerous he was capable of being.

Kim spent most of the speech reciting a list of advances in their missile and nuclear programs. He also outlined his plans for expanding them even more regardless of international sanctions. Then he immediately targeted South Korea and Japan with his threatening rhetoric.

His outlaw-like behavior was so convincing that both of the neighboring nations immediately raised their threat-assessment levels and placed their military defenses on a war footing. He then proceeded to attack President Helton. He pointed out the United States, and the new administration in particular, was full of empty threats and hollow promises. Specifically, he echoed what American political pundits and many within in the Department of Defense were saying. President Helton’s failure to act in defense of Israel, especially, was a sign of geopolitical impotence.

Peter cautioned his father that he was more concerned now than in their prior conversation. Hank, in turn, insisted Peter should come home. That was where the two men disagreed. Peter saw this as the biggest news story of his lifetime, at least thus far. He wanted to stick it out in the DC area so he could use his sources to bring the behind-the-scenes dealings into the public eye.

He made a hollow promise to heed the warnings and be prepared to leave the Washington area as soon as possible. From Newport News to the south, all the way up the East Coast, nuclear targets were abundant. He’d already mapped out a bug-out strategy that took him away from the city and the potential fallout resulting from a direct hit. And he honestly promised to act on it when he got a chance.

With this new information in hand, Hank touched base with Mike and Jessica. He convinced them to come to the inn for a late dinner and drinks. Mike had a break in his case and looked forward to discussing it with his brother.

Finally, the toughest nut to crack, because she had her mother’s somewhat stubborn, independent streak, was Lacey. Hank spoke to her for thirty minutes and hung up pleasantly surprised. He was relieved that Lacey was taking the threat seriously. He applauded her two-day-long effort to be ready for a possible nuclear attack.

He was disappointed by her lack of commitment to hop on a plane with her family and head for Miami, where he promised to greet them. Owen had one more day in the office, and then they’d promised Tucker a four-day vacation in the mountains. She promised to think about it and, like Peter, claimed to have a plan in case they were warned of an impending attack.

The sun was beginning to drop over the horizon when Mike and Jessica arrived. The three of them pulled cigars out of the humidor and stopped by the bar for their favorite adult beverages. This, of course, reminded Hank that cigars needed to be stocked as well. Simple pleasures during the apocalypse might help him keep his sanity. He made a note on his iPhone.

“Let’s talk about your case first,” began Hank after the trio was settled in their chairs, with their toes buried in the sand.

“Yeah, it’s a break in the case although it raises a number of questions,” began Mike. “On the most recently discovered victim, the kids retrieved a fairly new model of Omega’s dive watch line. In addition to our detectives looking through missing persons reports and trying to cross-reference the watch, we were able to make out the serial number. It was laser-etched in very small type on the back of the lug closest to the eleven o’clock position. It’s a titanium model, so cleaning off the effects of sitting under water for over a week was a little easier.

“Anyway, the serial number was connected to a New York man who’d flown into Miami on business. He and a lady companion were seen leaving a bar in Coconut Grove early that evening. His rental car was found abandoned nearby.”

“How did he get to the Keys?” asked Hank.

“We believe the woman—who was described as tall, as women go, nearly six feet—helped the guy out of the bar. The man was apparently inebriated although the bartender claimed he only had a couple of scotches. Anyway, drugs might be involved, and I’m still waiting on the toxicology report.”

“That’s something,” said Hank.

“We caught a second break. After getting the vic’s photo from family, our people began canvassing hotels, restaurants and bars in the Upper Keys. We got a hit at WaterLOO, the gay bar in Key Largo.”