But eventually, headlights appeared through his bedroom window.
“Is that in our driveway?” He threw a robe on and headed towards the knocking at his front door. Two polite but nervous-looking enlisted Army men stood there.
“Good evening, sir, is your name David Manning?”
“That’s right.”
“Sir, everyone working on SILVERSMITH has been recalled. I’m to drive you and your dependents in as soon as possible.”
“My dependents?”
“Yes, sir. Anyone who might need to accompany you in the event of a location transfer.”
“Transfer to where?”
“Out of the D.C. area, sir. That’s all I know.”
“Now?”
The two men didn’t answer. The looks on their faces said it all. One couldn’t have been much more than twenty years old, by the look of it. Both looked tired.
David thought he understood. Given the speech he had seen on TV, the emergency alert message, and the EMP detonation, the CIA and the Pentagon needed to respond immediately. The Pentagon must have had plans ready for an event like this. A “break glass in the case of disaster” plan. This was going to be a different type of war than the United States had faced before.
David waved them in. “Come inside, guys. You can sit on the couch while I rustle the troops.” The two Army men exchanged glances, the bright flashlight illuminating their shrugs. Then they followed David in.
Lindsay already had sweats and sneakers on when David was back in the bedroom. She had heard the conversation. Lindsay wasn’t happy that they needed to grab the kids and leave their home in the middle of the night. But she didn’t complain either. Her motherly instinct intermingled with her own sense of national duty. She knew the type of work her husband did. Whatever Uncle Sam needed David to do, they would do it.
They packed fast and were soon riding in the back of the white government van, the kids sleeping and the parents wondering what the hell was in store for them. The drive was shorter than David expected. They must have still been in Vienna, Virginia.
“We’re not going to Langley?”
“They told us to take you here, sir.”
There were mobile generators connected to floodlights in the parking lot of a four-story building, dark glass windows and beige stone. Identical to most other office buildings in the area, except that their vehicle had to go through a checkpoint with multiple armed guards to get past the barbed-wire fence. If David could have seen the roof of the building, he would’ve seen the surplus of satellite dishes and antennae on the roof.
There were dozens of similar white government vans dropping off other families. They shuffled through the doors through multiple ID checks and then gathered in a conference room that clearly wasn’t meant to hold this many people.
A man wearing a track suit ushered people. “Families over here, please. SILVERSMITH personnel down the hall.”
“You gonna be all right?” David squeezed his wife’s shoulder.
“We’ll be fine,” Lindsay said.
Maddie, their three-year-old, was now awake, courageously walking while holding her mom’s hand. Their infant still slept in a Babybjörn on Lindsay’s chest. Lindsay looked exhausted, but resolute.
“I’ll find you after,” David said. He kissed her on the cheek and walked away.
The SILVERSMITH personnel funneled into a meeting room one floor above where the civilians were being tended to. General Schwartz and Susan Collinsworth, the CIA operations officer in charge of the group, stood at the front of the room.
“Close the door, please,” said Schwartz.
Susan said, “We’ll be quick, because we need to get moving. Within the past few hours, the Chinese military has begun attacking the US, both overseas and domestically.”
Murmurs from around the room.
“At least one EMP was detonated over the mid-Atlantic, which has caused massive power and electronics outages throughout the eastern seaboard. We’re receiving intel reports that describe at least three electromagnetic pulse detonations over the US in the past hour. But the information we’ve been getting has been incomplete and, in some cases, contradictory.”
She glanced at General Schwartz, who took it from there. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve been ordered to decentralize and relocate the entire US military and intelligence apparatus. SILVERSMITH will be transported together, with dependents, and a security detail provided to ensure our safety. We expect that tomorrow will bring widespread chaos to the civilian population.”
More whispers from around the room.
“Transportation will be difficult. In many cases, infrastructure will temporarily cease to function. Our intention is to start our relocation process immediately.”
“Where are we headed?” someone asked.
“We won’t be making that known, for security reasons.”
“What does immediately mean? Like, now?”
“The buses are gassing up. Ours should be here within the hour.”
“What about our houses? Shit, I got a cat, man. What about my cat?”
A few swears. Some people shaking their heads.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we just witnessed the beginning of the third world war. This day will be in the history books. Each of you read the Red Cell threat analysis report. You know what to expect. EMP attacks coupled with cyber and special operations assaults. Attacks on American infrastructure and utilities, transportation hubs, political leadership. We need to assume that all of this will be attempted. As part of team SILVERSMITH, you hold a critical knowledge and ability to help manage our defensive strategy and tactics. We need to ensure that the government continues to function, and this is one of the ways in which we’ll do that.”
A knock at the door. An Air Force officer handed a piece of paper to the general, who read it and gritted his teeth.
He looked up. “The president is confirmed dead.”
Mouths dropped open. Someone said, “Holy shit…”
“The vice president has been sworn in as the new commander in chief, and the executive branch has declared martial law until further notice.” General Schwartz paused and looked up at the faces in the room. “We’ll be departing soon. Please help your families get aboard the buses.”
There were two buses and two escort vehicles. The SILVERSMITH workers and their families piled on, and the buses departed shortly after, taking the Beltway and then heading south on I-95. David guessed it was still before five a.m. when they got on the highway. Normally the southbound traffic wouldn’t be so bad at this time. But not today. There were already a lot of vehicles traveling the highway.
By dawn, they passed Richmond, Virginia. That was when the signs of panic became visible.
Lindsay pointed out the tinted bus window. “What’s that? What is that?”
A huge bonfire had been lit atop one of the highway overpasses. The SILVERSMITH convoy of defense and intelligence workers and their families passed underneath. A sedan was ablaze. A limp body rested a few feet from the flaming vehicle, limbs hanging through the chain-link fence of the overpass. The person had been shot in the head. There were no police or emergency services in sight.
The escort vehicles had blue lights flashing at this point. They traveled in the left-hand lane, and most vehicles quickly got out of the way. But as the morning went on, the highway became much more crowded. Their escort vehicle began sounding the sirens and honking horns, and people in the left lane became slow to move out of the way.
Susan caught David’s eye from the front of the bus, gesturing him to come up. David checked that his wife and kids were asleep, then headed up the aisle and sat across from his boss.