Jacqueline Druga - Fallout

Everything was technologically old. Despite the bunker being updated and refitted in parts, the communications room of Greenbrier had not been touched in decades. The computer system looked like an advertisement from the RadioShack Tandy computer days. Black screen, green lettering, blinking block of light. But they worked. They did their job.

Troy had brought with him an emergency communications computer system. Locked in that lead base case, which also served as a faraday cage. The program looked like those in the communication room, an old DOS operating system.

It took several days for them to get a steady connection to communication. It was hit and miss. Up and down. They’d connect to the satellite, and just as they would to get an image, the satellites would go down. Finally, through a secure and hidden area of the internet, Troy connected them to the UK. From there, the techno geniuses of Great Britain worked to get them together and online. Finally, there was talk.

“We have a bit of trouble here. Unrest. Concerns,” said Prime Minister Winslet. Her voice stayed cool and calm. Never wavering. “We pick up bits and pieces of radio from your side. Not much. Just seems everything is blocked. We’re working on it.”

“I know you are,” said Madeline. “I appreciate it.”

“How are you holding on?” asked the prime minister.

“I feel like a mouse in a maze.”

“Understandable.”

“So, you’ve not been drawn in?” Madeline asked.

“Not yet. The population of Great Britain is in turmoil over what to do. However, I have received word from Russia. We’re meeting for the summit in two days.”

“The summit?”

“Yes,” the prime minister said. “The Russian president has called several countries together. So we collectively can figure out what course of action we are going to take whether it be held or otherwise.”

“I take it China want to be there?”

There was no response.

“Prime Minister?”

“China is denying all culpability in this. Flat out denying it.”

“What?” Madeline said with almost a laugh. “They’re here. Reports that I’m getting show they’re here in masses. Military presence.”

“Yes. But they claim they are there as goodwill ambassadors and also for humanitarian reasons.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“You know that, and I know that,” the prime minister said. “I’m pretty certain the world knows it as well. But no one can make a move without knowing one hundred percent what the situation is over there.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t…” Madeline paused to cough. “I can’t fill you in… because…” She coughed again. “I have no idea where normal clothes are let alone…” Again, she coughed. A dry hacking cough.

“Are you alright?”

“I think…”

“Shit,” Troy blurted out.

“What?” Madeline asked.

“Smoke.” He pointed to the vent.

Madeline peered up to the thin white stream of smoke that poured in. “Prime Minister, I have to call you back. We have a problem here.”

“Absolutely.”

Madeline disconnected the call and stood.

“Sam,” Troy called another soldier in the room. “Escort the president out until we can find out the source of the smoke.”

“Right away, sir.” He placed hand on Madeline’s back. “This way, ma’am.”

Madeline didn’t know what to expect when she left the communications room. Would the halls and main areas be filled with smoke, was the fire nearby? She was confused because not a single alarm went off. But as she grew farther away from the communications room, there wasn’t any smoke.

Sam led her with urgency toward the former casino area and to the huge steel door.

“Sam? What’s going on?” a soldier asked. “Everything okay?”

“Captain is looking for the source of smoke,” Sam replied. “Get some guys together and see if he needs help?”

“What smoke?”

“It’s in the back.” Sam pulled the door opened with a grunt, enough for them to slip out, then he secured the door again.

The passageway to the top was a long, sloped tunnel lit by sporadic emergency lights. It was an exhausting ordeal to walk it and Madeline’s legs ached and she began to get winded from the pace.

Finally, she felt a renewed sense of stamina when she saw the sun from the open doors. It was unusual because they were never left open. She figured someone got the word about the smoke and opened them.

Even though it was overcast, it was still bright, and Madeline’s eyes started to adjust before she stepped out.

Once outside, the temporary blindness was replaced with shock. She froze and didn’t move. In fact, she did the only thing she could think of and that was to raise her hands.

It was the only thing she could do.

At the west entrance of the bunker, seemingly waiting for her, was a line of at least forty foreign soldiers all aiming their weapons at her.

Not including the two flight attendants and pilots, General Liu was one of only two people aboard the large aircraft. It had been restructured long before the invasion to include a flying meeting room, designed to accommodate an entire government team in the air with its plush, wide chairs that were set up in rows of four, face to face, like a train car. There was a conference table and small bar. But the general sat alone. His finger ran over the rim of his glass that contained his slightly warmed baijiu. He sipped it occasionally while staring out the window. His computer tablet was on the small table before him. He would get to that. He just needed to think. Across from him were two empty seats, in fact all around were empty seats.

It was a waste of fuel, he didn’t need to ride in comfort. Plus, waiting for his day to board the plane put him days behind schedule. He could have been in Texas for days already.

San Antonio was a large city with one point four million people. It was two hundred miles west of Houston Ground Zero. The entire state was going to be a challenge to him. The more he looked at what he had to oversee, the more he realized he had the biggest problem area. The biggest headache was the fact that Fen would set up her headquarters there as well.

The entire military campaign was absurd and obviously masterminded by someone without decades of experience. It wasn’t thought through; while they would claim it was, Liu knew better.

He likened it to the many times he chuckled when America’s CIA initiated something under the guise of a military action. Always it failed.

Ms. Shu and her team had been following the chatter about the domestic terrorist disruption and attempt to take and overthrow the US government. They inserted themselves into it, having moles inside so they could swiftly take over, manipulate, and control it, claiming the largest ‘land invasion’ in history.

Soldiers of the People’s Republic of China put their lives on the line. Monetarily, it was going to be a nightmare. Moving ships, aircraft, and humanitarian aid.

Sending food to a country in chaos from a country that produced only enough to feed themselves. The only ‘smart’ part of Shu’s plan was to get the nonaffected areas up and running as if nothing was wrong. Put the country back to work. Even then, Liu wasn’t sure that would work.

Four years earlier while at a training exercise, Liu was asked how he would invade and take over the United States if need be.

He had a simple solution.

Buy them.

Buy every single debt of the United States then claim ownership.