The blood flowed out of the mayor’s face as it turned ashen white. She slammed the bottle of scotch on her desk and immediately stood up. “Erin Bergmann? Secretary of Agriculture for that scumbag Helton?”
Jock shrugged. He had no idea who the Secretary of Agriculture was and what she’d be doing in the Keys. All he knew was the information genuinely struck a nerve with Lindsey.
“I can find out—” he began to respond before she cut him off.
“Listen to me, Jock. You send someone you trust to Marathon and find out what the hell is going on up there. Confirm whether she’s in my county. She could be working with President Helton to come after me.”
“Come on, Lindsey. You’re just being paranoid.”
Her face turned from white with fear to red rage. She slammed the palm of her hand on her desk, causing the Dixie cup half full of scotch to jump slightly.
“I’m not messing around. Find out if this is true and where this woman is staying. Was she with Hank? Why is she here? Who has been in contact with her? Everything!”
PART IV
Day twenty-seven, Wednesday, November 13
CHAPTER THIRTY
Wednesday, November 13
U. S. Army War College
Carlisle Barracks
Carlisle, Pennsylvania
Following the morning briefing, President Helton and Chief of Staff Chandler returned to the presidential office suite to discuss the reports they’d received. In just three weeks, there had been twelve million deaths resulting directly from the nuclear detonations. Another thirty-five million had died indirectly from starvation, lack of clean water, and societal collapse. That number was rising exponentially by the day, with his FEMA administrator estimating that at least two-thirds of the U.S. population would be dead within a year.
“Mr. President, I appreciate FEMA providing us these estimates,” said Chandler as he closed the door to the president’s office behind them. “However, I think he’s overly pessimistic. I believe the American people will come together to help one another.”
“I don’t know, Harrison. Our power grid is the beating heart of this nation. Our near-total reliance on electricity and what happens when that heart stops beating is beginning to show.”
Chandler sighed. “I have to admit the report from Director McClain was dire. As much money as we spend, we couldn’t manage to carve out a billion here and a billion there to harden our grid.”
Tom McClain was the director of FERC, the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission’s Office of Energy Infrastructure Security. During the briefing, he’d accused prior administrations of adopting the proverbial ostrich-head-in-the-sand approach. The consequences of a complete loss of the electrical grid were too terrible to think about; therefore, political leaders didn’t. The Helton administration was equally culpable.
President Helton agreed, expanding on his chief of staff’s point. “All it would take was to add those neutral current-blocking devices between our major transmission systems. McClain said protecting two hundred of these critical transformers would’ve prevented the cascading failure we experienced.”
“A twenty-million-dollar investment would’ve prevented this,” lamented Chandler.
The two men grew quiet for a moment as they contemplated Chandler’s words. Now they faced a monumental task of replacing hundreds of transformers around the country. It wasn’t just the cost of replacing them that was daunting. It was the production process. It would take many years for foreign manufacturers to build the transformers to meet America’s specifications. Not to mention the single biggest producer of power equipment was China, America’s biggest economic and geopolitical rival.
The president was anxious to change the subject, although there wasn’t much of anything to lighten the mood. “The Pentagon seems to think they’ll have troops and National Guardsmen in a position to take control of the major cities soon.”
“That’s where the greatest loss of life has occurred,” said Chandler with a nod. “The battle for resources, namely food and water, has resulted in anarchy. The problem, however, is that FEMA doesn’t have enough supplies stored to last these high-population areas more than a week or so. They may be successful in restoring order, although it won’t last as our food and water resources dwindle.”
The president spun in his office chair to study a large wall map of the United States. Pushpins and markers identified certain cities as being priorities. Boundaries were drawn around areas that were considered hotspots to be avoided by the military. In other words, hopeless. Examples were the major cities hit by the nuclear bombs and large population areas that were completely lawless.
“Harrison, we have to play god. I can’t believe that we’re in this situation. But, honestly, the only way to move forward is to decide who to save and leave the rest of the nation to fend for themselves. We simply cannot save everybody.”
“I’ve thought about this as well, Mr. President, but I wouldn’t dare bring it up during our briefings. I will say that it’s likely on the minds of your closest advisors.”
“Has anyone said anything?”
“No, but I’ve studied them since we began making your cabinet choices. Other than Erin, I’ve had a pretty good read on them. At some point when you’re ready to broach the subject of rebuilding certain parts of the nation first to the detriment of other parts, I believe they’ll be receptive.”
The president stood to take a closer look at the map. “Do we focus on saving the most? You know, focus on our large regional cities like New York, Chicago, and Philly, of course.”
Chandler had given this some thought. “In the short term, seven to ten years, as nuclear winter continues to plague us, I think we should consider midsize cities in the Sunbelt. Their level of societal collapse is less than in the Northeast and the West Coast. Besides, people are already migrating to typically warmer climates.”
The president ran his fingers through his thinning hair and sighed. “We’ve got to resolve this Texas situation. That state could support many refugees in a climate that could still support agriculture. Florida, too.”
Chandler brought up Erin. “Bergmann hasn’t checked in with me since her arrival in the Keys. I need to touch base with her.”
The president turned to his chief of staff. “We have a lot on our platter, but insurrection doesn’t need to be one of them. Whether it’s small uprisings like what we’ve experienced in the Mountain West, the UP, and the Keys, or those damn Texans, this has to be dealt with. I don’t know who is a bigger threat to our nation. The looters in the major cities or the people who think they can spit on the Constitution.”
His chief of staff and longtime friend agreed. “If we don’t nip it in the bud, then others will follow their lead.”
“What if we make an example of one of these wild-card communities? Obviously, Texas is a whole nother matter. The groups in Idaho are too small and the state is too remote for word to spread of the military successfully tamping down the uprisings. The Upper Peninsula of Michigan is similar.”
“The Florida Keys are different,” interjected Carter. “Unlike the other regions where armed militia created barricades and warned off federal government personnel, the locals down there destroyed bridges that likely won’t be rebuilt until the nation has power. And even then there are other more pressing projects to address.”
“So you consider their actions the worst offender?” asked the president.