Richard Stephenson - Collapse

“Three. Fat man is in the parking lot. The other three took our vehicles and left. One of them took a bullet in the arm. Managed to shoot out one of the truck tires; they won’t make it too far in that.”

Max walked over to the obese man who way lying on his back, his chest heaving rapidly as he desperately tried to fill his torn lungs with air. Max leaned down and picked up his shotgun.

“You’re not a cop, you fat piece of shit.” Max shot him in the head.

Ignoring the stabbing pain in his hip, Max limped over to Rudy’s dead body. He gently closed Rudy’s vacant eyes and dug in his front pockets for the truck keys.

“I’m sorry, Rudy. I’m going after the men who did this. I promise you I’ll make them pay. I’ll make sure your wife is safe, and we’ll take good care of her.”

Max turned to find Deputy Collins standing behind him. He took off his jacket and handed it to the chief. Max put the windbreaker over his shivering, wet body.

“You feelin’ better?”

Collins placed his palm over his rib cage just beneath his sternum and whispered, “Hurts like a bitch to breathe and talk, but I’ll be okay.”

“Let’s get going. Once we find those bastard rednecks we won’t be doing much talking.

President Malcolm Powers was getting impatient. He and his former guests were sitting in the underground bunker beneath the White House waiting to be moved back up topside. His Chief of Staff had not spoken a word to him and he knew the reason. He would have time to deal with her later. More important things required his attention, like the symbol of the office of the president being directly attacked and an Iranian sub in the water with a nuclear warhead aboard.

“Mike, tell me something good. I’m ready to get out of here.”

“Mr. President, we have the airports shut down and roadblocks are being set up on every major road leading out of the capitol. Once all air traffic is grounded and if nothing else happens, we can move you up top.”

“How long?”

“An hour, two at the most.”

President Powers looked at Admiral Mack. “Are the Enterprise and the George Washington underway?”

“Yes, Mr. President, they’re moving at full speed to join the blockade in the Arabian Sea.”

“Radiation levels?”

“Continuing to rise, Mr. President. The weather system continues to spread radioactivity into the area. Much of the region will be uninhabitable for decades.”

CIA Director Jimenez coughed and growled, “Animals are killing their own people just to come at us.”

Everyone in the room looked gravely at each other. The president continued to address Admiral Mack. “Bunker Five?”

“We still can’t get a clear read on it, Mr. President.”

“What if they launch directly from the bunker? Will we be able to stop it in time?”

“Yes, Mr. President. We would be able to shoot it down over the Arctic Circle or over the Atlantic Ocean. We are still confident that they do not have a working ICBM.”

“Well, their actions lead me to believe that they’re capable of anything. I’m not going to underestimate them; ensure that you do not as well, General Moody.”

“Yes, Mr. President.” The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff responded with a cold, stern face. He did not like being talked down to.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if you will excuse me, I’m going to retire to my quarters for a short time to freshen up and spend some time reflecting on the horrible events of this day. Please make yourselves comfortable. Just as soon as we are given the all clear, we will all return to the White House.”

The president stood up, and every person in the room followed suit. The CIA director placed his hands on the arms of his wheelchair and sat up as straight as he could.

“Stacy, would you join me, please?”

“Yes, Mr. President.” The president’s Chief of Staff stood up and followed her boss down the short hallway to his private quarters. He opened the door for her, ushering her in. Once he closed the door, he braced himself for the ass-chewing he knew would follow.

“Malcolm, I want one good reason why I shouldn’t hand you my letter of resignation!”

Stacy Reid had been Admiral Powers’ campaign manager. Once he took office, she was the obvious choice to be his Chief of Staff. She accepted the job on one condition — when they were behind closed doors, she could speak her mind and deflate his ego if it was growing unchecked. Malcolm gladly accepted the condition and would have insisted on it anyway. He needed someone to keep him in check, someone who wasn’t concerned about furthering their own career or just wanted to kiss his ass. Malcolm had studied JFK’s biggest blunder, the Bay of Pigs, and came to his own conclusion that if JFK’s advisors had spoken their minds and not worried about damaging their careers, JFK could have avoided the biggest blunder of his presidency.

“Stacy, just hear me out. I wanted to bring you in on this from the start. Keeping you in the dark was a very tough call. I regret it now, and I apologize. I should never have done that to you.”

“I hope you have a damn good reason. I’m waiting.”

“Well, I made the decision based on two reasons. The first is that you’re from Florida.”

“What? How dare you! You think I couldn’t give you sound advice? That’s outrageous! I hope your second reason is better than that.”

“What would you have done if you’d known about my plan?”

“Your plan to lie to the American people? I think you can figure that one out.”

“Exactly my point. I need you, Stacy. I can’t afford to lose you, especially now, given what’s at stake. I hope you can work past this and we can come to an understanding.”

“I need time, Malcolm. I just don’t know.”

“Take all the time you need. In the meantime, I hope you can continue to perform your duties as well as you always have.”

“If I’m even going to think about staying, no more lies, no more hiding things from me.”

“Of course.”

“You know I would have left quietly.”

“I know you would, but I couldn’t afford the press putting two and two together. Okay, let’s talk about today. What do you think?”

“Personal feelings aside, I don’t think you’ll be able to contain Governor Prince for much longer. She’s bound to go to the press.”

“You’re probably right. I was planning on sending the Enterprise and the George Washington to the Florida coastline. It’s the only reason I called the meeting. I wanted to get input from everyone before I made a decision. You think she knows that? Will it matter to her?”

“She has to realize that an Iranian sub in the water with a nuke takes precedence.”

“Stacy, can you talk to her, remind her of that?”

“Me?”

“The woman doesn’t like me, and you used to work for her. I think you’ll have better luck.”

“We worked together a very long time ago. She was a state senator and I was her press secretary. We didn’t exactly part ways on the best of terms.”

“Well, I still think you’ll have better luck than I would. She cussed me out in front of some of the most powerful people in our government. She would probably do worse if given the chance.”

“I’ll talk to her, try to get her to see reason.”

“Excuse me, Mr. President?” the White House A.I. interrupted.

“Yes, computer, what is it?”

“Howard Beck is requesting to speak to you. I informed him that you are indisposed at the moment and couldn’t take his vid-con. He says that it’s urgent.”

“What does he want?”

“He wouldn’t say. He insisted on speaking with you.”