Richard Stephenson - Collapse

Howard had walked for about ten minutes when he saw Meredith’s garden in front of him. The always efficient Hal had aimed one of the soft garden lights in Howard’s direction after snapping a red lens over the bulb. The three quick blinks had guided Howard to the Castle. One-Two-Three.

Howard crouched at his wife’s headstone and smiled. “Hello my dear. You brought me home. After all these years you continue to light my path. I love you, my beautiful bride. Thank you.” Howard stood up and placed his hand on the headstone, tapping it affectionately. Even in the dark he knew his way to the entrance of the Castle. The bay doors to the garage remained closed, so Howard had to feel his way around to the pedestrian entrance.

He stepped into the elevator and when the doors closed, Hal spoke to him. It was music to his ears. “I am glad you made it here safely, sir. I detect that you are quite fatigued and slightly dehydrated. Do you require medical attention?”

“No, my friend. I’m fine, thank you. I’ve never been happier to hear your voice.”

“The feeling is mutual, sir, I assure you.”

“Tell me what happened, Old Man.”

“CNN aired a broadcast of an Iranian submarine in the waters off the eastern seaboard of the United States. The submarine was broadcasting a message on a repeating loop – ‘The Star of Allah illuminates the wicked.’ A warhead was launched from the submarine and before I could re-task a satellite to determine its trajectory, it was detonated in the atmosphere. The resulting electromagnetic pulse disabled the escape pod, as you well know.”

“All too well, I’m afraid. Do we still have our satellite? Can we tell what’s going on?”

“No, sir, I’m afraid the EMP disabled communication with the satellite. I am confident that my systems onboard the satellite will be able to make the necessary repairs. I estimate that we will regain communication with the satellite in approximately four hours.”

“Do we know anything at all about what’s going on out there?”

“No, sir, the EMP has disabled all lines of communication. We don’t have the means to establish any sort of connection with the affected area.”

“So we’re in the dark?”

“Yes, sir, I am afraid that is the case. Until I can repair our satellite we will not be able to gather intelligence.”

“Well, then, answer me this. Are you able to communicate with any of our offices to the east?”

“No, sir.”

“What about on the other side of the Rockies?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, that’s a bit of good news. Hal, I desperately need a shower and some rest. I’m going to get some sleep. I want to know the instant you regain your link with the satellite.”

“Yes, sir.”

Howard went to his quarters and took the longest shower of his life. He detested being covered in sweat and dirt. Squeaky clean once again, he put on his bathrobe and climbed into bed. In less than a minute, he was out like a light and slept like a baby until Hal woke him up three hours later.

“Sir? Are you awake?”

“Yes, Hal. Are we back online?”

“We are indeed, sir. I was able to establish a link with the satellite.”

“Excellent. I’m on my way to the command center.”

“Very good, sir.”

Howard rushed down the hall to the command center and slid into his chair. The giant three hundred and sixty degree spherical monitor sprang to life and Howard was looking at a real time image of the North American continent.

“Talk to me, Hal.”

“Sir, I have determined the range of the EMP based on power outages. The range extends from the eastern seaboard past the Mississippi, well into the Great Plains, down to the northern half of the Gulf States and the northern half of Texas. Everything on the other side of the Rocky Mountains was not affected.”

“This is a nightmare.”

“Sir, I am monitoring an urgent message over a secure military channel. Standby.”

“Well, at least the military was prepared to withstand an EMP.”

“Sir, Serenity Hills has been destroyed. The President and the First Lady are dead.”

Jackson Butler stood on the lawn of Beck Estates in roughly the same location where he’d carried out the attack that drove Howard Beck from his home the day before. He was quite proud of the unexpected promotion he’d received from his new Commander-in-Chief, Simon Sterling. He’d been guaranteed a substantial promotion if he proved himself worthy in the New Revolution. Over the course of the previous year, he’d been recruited by some very high-ranking officials in the Unified National Guard to be a part of the history making revolution. The country was falling down around them and had been doing so for a very long time. Radical measures were needed if the American way of life was going to continue. Jackson Butler had been on the front lines of many riots and was quick to agree. Something drastic needed to be done.

When the state governors had deployed their National Guards to maintain law and order in the major cities, Jackson knew it was a step in the right direction. Shortly after, the Unified National Guard was formed. Once the new organization was established, it fell under the direct supervision of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the seeds of the New Revolution were planted. Contrary to popular belief, the office of chairman never had direct command over any of the armed forces dating back to General Omar Bradley, but instead served as a direct advisor to the president of the United States and the Secretary of Defense. For the first time in history, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff was given direct command authority over a very large military force. Many people in Washington cried out in opposition to the move, stating firmly that command of the Unified National Guard should fall under the Secretary of Homeland Security. With a nation full of frightened and scared citizens demanding action, the time for open debate in the halls of Congress was over. Chairman Moody was second only to the president as commander of the most powerful military on the face of the planet. If the United States wasn’t suffering such internal strife, the Unified National Guard could join the Allied Army in the Iranian Theater and bring the war to a close in no time flat.

General Jackson Butler stood patiently on the lawn waiting for the incoming helicopter to land. The bird was a few minutes overdue, which was to be expected given the EMP attack. Everyone was scrambling to figure out how the attack happened and what was going to be done in the aftermath. Butler wondered if the helicopter was going to make it at all. For all he knew, the damn thing had crashed or wasn’t able to take off at all. Communication was practically non-existent on the other side of the Mississippi. He checked his watch for the tenth time in the last few minutes and scanned the sky. Jackson breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the helicopter in the distance. He straightened his uniform and watched the chopper land.

Once the rotors came to a stop, the helicopter sat motionless. General Butler felt self-conscious, like the occupants inside were watching and judging him. After a very uncomfortable two minutes had passed, Jackson began to wonder if he’d made some sort of error. Was he supposed to approach and open the door for them? What were they doing? Where they waiting on him? Should he be doing something instead of just standing there? His nerves got the better of him and he flinched when the cockpit door opened and the ladder descended. He watched as a young soldier quickly exited the co-pilot’s seat and opened a compartment at the rear of the craft. A small contraption was rolled around to the cockpit door and was unfolded into a flatbed lift. The lift was raised to the door. General Butler was genuinely confused by what he saw. What are they unloading? Why aren’t the passengers disembarking first? What on earth is so important that they have to unload it right now?