Jacqueline Druga - Fallout

It was quiet, many of the soldiers were still rearranging things, carrying boxes in and out. She slipped by them unnoticed and walked over to the far wall where, for entertainment purposes, they placed slot machines.

She had a twenty-dollar bill in the pocket of her jeans and she sat down at the Triple Seven Diamond slot machine, hitting the button slowly, hoping for a hit so she could sit mindlessly for a while until the morning arrived along with the bigger decisions.

“Ma’am.” He sat down next to her. “Can’t sleep?”

She paused in her playing and looked at him. His name was Troy, a Captain, Special Forces, his last name slipped her mind. She remembered him. He and his team, like her, were thrust into positions of authority and power they weren’t ready to face.

“Not really, Captain. Can anyone sleep?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” He tilted his head. “I have a couple of my mine who are passed out pretty good. Can I offer you…” He showed her a bottle, and in his other hand he held plastic cups. “If I am out of line, I apologize…”

“No, not at all. Thank you. I’d love one, Captain.”

“Troy.” He handed her a glass. “Call me Troy.”

“Then in that case.” She took the drink. “Call me Madeline.”

“Ma’am, I cannot do that.”

“Yes… you can.” She sipped it, paused, cringed at the burn, and then took another drink. “Down here, we are in this together. We are…” She closed her eyes and sounded desperate. “What are we doing here? What?”

“Aside from sitting in the corner of a bunker that was once a casino after it was a bunker, drinking really expensive bourbon and playing slots…” He shrugged. “Trying like hell to think of a way to save the country.”

“Yeah, that.” She sniffed. “All I keep thinking of is my husband.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He’s alive. I’m sure of it. Ironically, he was in this state. West Virginia. He was born here, you know?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Born and bred. He likes to rent a cabin at a place called Holly River,” she said. “Pretty deep in the woods. No cell service, no internet, nothing. Oh wait…” She lifted her glass then sipped. “There’s a pay phone. He probably doesn’t even know what happened. In fact, I am pretty sure he hasn’t a clue things fell apart.”

“He’ll find you.”

“No doubt.” She held her empty glass to Troy for a refill. “In the meantime, we are a country torn asunder. Every available soldier is scattered, not to mention how many are overseas. We have rumors of a ground invasion. One already here and the big one on the way, but we can’t confirm where because communications aren’t reliable.”

“We have farmers with pitchforks,” he said.

She glanced curiously at him.

“Well, militia and citizens willing to take arms against the enemy. We’re ready.”

“How do we rally them?”

“We will. Just… give us a day or two.”

“Hmm.” She nodded. “Everything fell apart in four hours. Imagine what can happen in a day or two. Now… I’m not faulting anyone. I know everyone is trying.”

“We are.”

“I don’t know how to try,” she whispered. “This is way out of my league.”

“You’ll get there. We’ll… get there.”

“How? Why did this happen?”

“That’s not important, is it?” he asked. “What is important is what we do now. And that is, take control. Take it back. This is our country, our home, and we are resilient. One way or another, and I promise you”—he splashed some whiskey in her glass—“we will take it back.”

She was actually Ministry of Security and not military, yet she was dressed like military: blue, gray, and white camouflage pants, combat boots, and jacket. It was the combat uniform of the People’s Republic of China’s Navy. Fen Shu had to dress that way, otherwise there would be a lack of respect if she stood on the deck of the ship, projecting authority in a black skirt and heals.

She was a genius with an ability to make frighteningly correct predictions for events based on calculating facts of current situations. The youngest ever to achieve such a high position of authority in security, let alone being a woman.

Fen was the heart behind the invasion of the United States. The entire take down. But all of that praise would be lost if it was found out her uncle was the president.

That was a little-known fact that she fought to keep secret.

Although, sometimes she wondered if any respect she was given was simply because of her title and job, rather than who she was.

Now she left her homeland to oversee what was being called the ‘Liberate America’ campaign. To some it appeared drastic but, in reality, Fen’s realty, the measures were needed. Insurgent movements were removed, the nuclear weapons that were deployed were a measure used not only to cripple the insurgents and imbedded terrorist but to bring pause to the country. A pause needed so Liberate America could make landfall by air and sea.

On the humanitarian front it was a campaign that would restore law and order to the territories of the United States as well as provide food, shelter, and healthcare for the citizens who had been mistreated by the government.

On the political side of the fence, it was control of commodities.

While China produced a large portion of the world’s food—it produced enough to be self-sustaining—most of its output was consumed locally. And no other country in the world relied on them to eat. However, the United States was a different story. It controlled seventy percent of the world’s consumable exports and control of that was invaluable.

She wanted it all. Her aspirations would push her to do all that she could to be the person who was in charge.

He or she that controlled the food… controlled the world.

Despite the global domination prospects for her country and herself, the plan wasn’t embraced by all. Many viewed it as radical, unnecessary, callous, and sneaky… no one saw it coming, nor was there reason for it.

Unprovoked.

Words spoken by leaders such as General Jian Liu.

But Liberate America went off without a hitch and stayed under the radar before military leaders such as Liu could do anything to intervene.

His strong objections would make for an uncomfortable journey across the pacific.

As she stood on the deck of the 920 just beyond the med staff café, she felt that uncomfortableness before she looked over her shoulder.

General Liu was an orphan who joined the army at the age of sixteen. Despite thirty years of dedicated service, he managed to have a family. A wife and two daughters. If it was even more possible, in recent years since his wife’s untimely passing, Liu had thrown himself more into his work, especially with his daughters reaching adulthood.

He had no political aspiration because under his own admittance, he was too opinionated and outspoken.

Fen, who rarely feared anything, had feared him a little and she never understood why. Her job, her life was protected, in a sense by the political power of her uncle.

Still, he spoke to her as if he didn’t know her uncle was president, or he didn’t care.

She peered over her shoulder as he walked her way and took a deep breath. She had successfully avoided him over the last few months, at least face to face, but now they were travelling together. Even a floating hospital the size of two football fields didn’t seem quite big enough.

He cleared his throat as he approached her at the railing, his way of announcing his presence.

“General.” She bowed her head in a show of respect for her elder.