Richard Stephenson - Collapse

Silence filled the room for about a minute. Everyone was pensive. The president was deep in thought, his brow furrowed and his gaze distant. He sat up in his chair and looked to the men in uniform.

“Gentlemen, how long can we hold Gibraltar?”

The military men in the room looked to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Carl Moody. “Mr. President, without reinforcements from the Enterprise and the George Washington, we can hold the port for ninety days at best, thirty at the worst. The James Russell is a sitting duck. She barely made it back to the port in one piece. Her defensive capabilities are at half strength, and they are working around the clock to get the flight deck operational. To put it bluntly, we’re vulnerable. If the Empire launches a direct attack in the immediate future, the Port of Gibraltar will fall within days. We are redeploying ground forces to help secure the James Russell while she undergoes repair. We are commandeering anything that floats — yachts, sailboats, canoes, paddleboats, doesn’t matter. If we can put armed soldiers in front of the James Russell , we will do so by any means necessary.”

The president replied, “What if we send one of the vessels to Gibraltar and send the other one to Florida?”

“Mr. President, that would help, but it wouldn’t be enough. Allied Forces control everything north of the port; however, the Empire is gaining ground from the south and they will eventually make it to the southern shores of Gibraltar and launch an attack. We need the George Washington out in front to stop the Iranian navy and the Enterprise to defend the ground to the south. Without them both, we lose Gibraltar.”

“Thank you, Carl.” The president stood up and walked back to the window to smoke another cigarette. He paced back and forth, thinking back to the famous battles from the last thousand years for control of the port. The Romans held the Port of Gibraltar until they fell. The Vandals held the Port for a short time before the Islamic conquest of Iberia in 711 A.D. Muslims controlled the port for seven centuries before the Spanish took it back. The British Empire seized control and with the completion of the Suez Canal, they extended their reach to the Indian Ocean. For most of mankind’s history, the Port of Gibraltar has been one of the most valuable strategic assets that a civilization could possess.

“Who’s hungry? I’m starving.” President Powers took his seat and looked around the room. Everyone was silent. “People, we are going to be here for a while. It’s time for lunch. Computer.”

“Yes, Mr. President?” responded the White House A.I..

“Take lunch orders for the guests in the Clinton Room. We will be eating our meal in here.”

“Yes, Mr. President.” The White House A.I. deployed two service robots that rolled over to the guests. The men and women in the room placed their order on the robots’ touch screens.

The president waited until everyone had placed their order, directing his next question to the Secretary of Homeland Security. “Secretary Laferriere, what can we expect in Texas?”

“Mr. President, the evacuation of the Houston area is not going well. It’s the same problem we had last month with Luther. People can’t afford to fill their gas tanks and sit on gridlocked roads. No one wants to get on the road unless they have a full tank of gas. Since it can cost upwards of two hundred fifty dollars to fill a tank, most people simply can’t afford it. Most American families have a hard enough time putting food on the table and keeping a roof over their heads. Gas is a luxury they can’t afford.”

“A lot of people are going to die.” Governor Prince felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. “It’s exactly what happened in my state. We just didn’t have enough transportation to get a significant amount of people out. We did what we could, but it wasn’t enough.”

“It gets worse.” Secretary Laferriere continued. “The interstate south of Houston leading down to the Gulf of Mexico is going to end up completely shut down. A few miles from the Sam Houston Tollway they have construction blocking off all but one lane.”

Stacy Reid spoke up. “How is that possible? I thought hurricane evacuation routes had regulations on construction.”

“You are correct, ma’am.” Secretary Laferriere continued. “We’re not sure how it happened, but it did. We can focus on that at a later date. The important thing now is to fix the problem. We have less than twelve hours before Maxine makes landfall. She’s moving very slowly, which makes things much worse. Three hours after landfall, the eye will pass over Houston. Winds in excess of two hundred fifteen miles per hour will push water from the Gulf of Mexico and Galveston Bay inland for several hours. Much of the Houston area will be under water.”

“God help us.” President Powers shook his head. “When will the lanes be open? What is being done?”

“I’m being told that within the hour they will have all the lanes open. Traffic is backed up all the way to Galveston.”

“We can’t sit by and do nothing. We have one state descending into anarchy and another one ready to drown half its residents.” The president shifted in his seat and leaned his forehead on his palm. “I can either sacrifice the lives of millions of Americans or save the world from Iran. I need a third option. Roberto?”

The Director of the CIA turned his wheelchair away from his lunch and faced the president. “Yes, Mr. President?”

“Would it be pos…”

The room began to shake and a loud explosion could be heard outside the White House.

“What in the hell?” Roberto Jimenez exclaimed.

Before anyone else could say a word, massive steel shudders slammed shut over the windows. The doors to the Oval Office and the hallway entrance to the Clinton Room closed, and steel doors dropped down with a thud that startled the people in the room. The lights went out and were replaced by a faint red one. A few seconds apart, several loud explosions rocked the walls of the room.

The White House A.I. spoke. “Mr. President, the Secret Service will be here in a few seconds. Please remain calm.”

“Computer, what is going on?” The president stood up from his chair.

“Please remain calm.”

“I am calm. Tell me what exactly is…”

The steel door quickly raised and four Secret Service agents rushed into the room. Malcolm Powers was lifted off his feet and quickly ushered from the room. Those left behind looked at each other as another explosion rocked the White House.

Howard Beck was sobbing in the garden he had built for his wife. When he built it, he knew that it stuck out like a sore thumb for a mile in every direction. He was confident that Beck Castle was secure. Nothing about this garden was connected to the structure below. The grass was artificial, and the decorations were made of high quality materials that could withstand the elements. Hal was the perfect cemetery caretaker of the graveyard built for one. In the years since Meredith was laid to rest, the garden had only been disturbed three times. All of the curious intruders took pictures and videos of the garden. Hal discreetly erased the evidence after they departed and doctored their GPS devices placing the garden in random locations far away. Meredith’s tombstone didn’t have her name on it. Howard was smart enough to know that his spouse’s grave would raise suspicion. The tombstone was simply marked “Loving Wife.”

“I’m so sorry, my dear, so sorry.” Howard brushed the long white hair from his eyes and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “Please forgive me, my love, I just have such a hard time coming here to see you. I know I promised you that I would always have fresh flowers for you to look at, but I just….” Howard wailed and screamed in soul-splitting agony. His cries echoed for miles; thankfully, the only creatures that could hear had more than two legs.