What the hell?
“David,” his wife called from the living room. She had turned on the TV and was rocking their newborn while she watched the news.
“David, come here. Look at this.”
The tone of her voice told him that something was wrong. She had been an anxious person before David had been taken to the island as part of a Chinese espionage operation. It had only gotten worse after.
Lindsay was hypersensitive to the news now. Truth be told, so was everyone else. In the past few months, the US had been engaged in combat operations against Iran and had been involved in skirmishes with the Chinese military in the eastern Pacific. Until very recently, David had felt like Chicken Little trying to convince members of the government that they needed to take Cheng Jinshan more seriously. Especially after his credibility was ruined following the Red Cell incident. But after Jinshan had seized control of China’s government, David’s warnings were seen as prescient. He had soon found himself placed in the CIA’s SILVERSMITH program, set up to counter Chinese aggression.
David entered the dark living room, the bright glow of the TV forcing him to squint. The baby was falling back asleep, whimpering on Lindsay’s shoulder.
“What is it?” David asked.
“Look.”
She had CNN on. A young black newscaster that David didn’t recognize was talking to the camera, wide-eyed and looking nervous as he spoke.
The banner on the bottom of the screen read BREAKING: Homeland Security Issues Nationwide Emergency Broadcast Alert After Explosions Rock Hawaii.
Lindsay turned up the volume.
“…so it was only moments ago that we received this alert from the Department of Homeland Security. No confirmation yet on whether that is related to the reports coming out of Hawaii. We can tell you that this is a nationwide bulletin. Our station is in the process of verifying its authenticity, as we are required to do. Our producer has told me that this is the first time since the creation of the Emergency Alert System that a national alert has been issued. We are required by the FCC to read you the message, and I’ll do so now: ‘This is the Emergency Alert System. The United States has been attacked by… ’”
The newscaster’s voice cracked, and he looked to someone off camera. He regained his composure and continued.
“…The United States has been attacked by nuclear weapons. Communications have been disrupted, and severe casualties are expected. Further details are unavailable at this time. All residents are urged to stay in their homes until further notice. Staying indoors will provide the best protection from potential blast or radiation hazards. Tune in to local TV and radio stations to receive warnings and instructions applicable for your geographic area.”
The newscaster looked off screen. He said, “Is this right?”
Lindsay plummeted to the couch, her hand covering her mouth, the baby squirming at her shoulder. “Oh my God. David?”
David’s eyes were narrowed. His mind began racing, thinking about the latest intelligence reports he had read. Thinking about where the rest of his family was.
He brought up the contacts list on his phone and dialed his office at Langley. Nothing happened. He looked at the cellular signal. No bars. He accessed a news application, but the latest update was from yesterday. He tried to refresh but got an error message. He checked a few major news websites in the phone’s internet browser. Nothing. Internet was down.
Lindsay sounded frantic. “Should we turn to the local station? It said to turn to the local station. David—”
“Hold on…”
The newscaster held his finger to his ear.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve just been told that the president of the United States will be delivering a message. We’re going to cut to the White House now…”
The screen switched to the United States presidential crest, then to the president himself, sitting behind his desk in the Oval Office, looking every bit the old man that he was. In the background, a picture of his family sat to one side, the American flag to the other.
“My fellow Americans, our nation has come under attack. NORAD has detected signs consistent with multiple ballistic missile launches, originating from North Korea. The United States has responded. Our ballistic missile defense was able to destroy most, but not all of these missiles.
“Moments ago, after conferring with the national security advisor, the director of national intelligence, and the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, I have ordered a swift and proportionate response. The United States of America will not stand idly by while madmen plot treachery upon our free and peace-loving nation.
“The United States, under my orders, has launched a limited nuclear strike on North Korea. We are now engaged in combat operations on the Korean peninsula. If the United States is attacked, we will strike back. This includes the use of nuclear weapons against our enemies. I implore all nations to heed this warning.
“Americans should remain calm but alert. I assure you that we are taking every possible step to ensure the safety and security of the American people. We—”
Two men raced onto the screen. The president yelled something that sounded like a question. The screen was a blur of large men in suits rushing the president away. Then the presidential seal appeared once again.
Lindsay said, “What just happened?” Her eyes were moist, her free hand covering her mouth.
“I don’t know… I don’t know. They looked like they rushed him off.”
“What the hell just happened?”
“Maybe—”
The next moment seemed like it went by in slow motion.
Through the cracks in the window shades, night turned to day. A bright light, white as winter and intense as daylight, lit up the outside world. The white light lasted for a few seconds, and then… darkness.
The TV turned off on its own. So did the kitchen counter lights. And the HVAC unit, the refrigerator fan, and the dishwasher.
The house became dark and silent.
Lindsay whispered, “Was that a bomb? David, oh my God, tell me that wasn’t a nuclear bomb.” The baby had woken up and was crying again.
David grabbed the remote control and tried turning the TV back on, even though he knew that it was a waste of time.
He walked over to the curtain. “Everyone else’s lights are out, too. No streetlights on, either.”
“What was that light outside, David? The president said there were nuclear missiles. Can you see anything out there? Do you see… do you see a mushroom cloud?”
He peered through the shades. “Everything just looks dark.” The wheels in his head began turning. He looked at his watch, then his phone. Neither was working. The electronics seemed fried. They were now paperweights.
“Honey, I think that bright flash was an EMP. An electromagnetic pulse weapon.” A sickening feeling overcame him as he tried to figure out what their options were. “I’m going to go check the cars.”
Lindsay shook her head. “They said to stay indoors.”
David grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter. “I just want to go check. It might not be safe here, this close to D.C. We might need to go somewhere else.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Where would we go?”
He didn’t answer. He walked into the garage, hitting the button to open the doors, but nothing happened. He swore to himself, walked over to the garage door and pulled the disconnect, then manually raised the door. He could hear voices in the neighborhood.
“…just lit up the whole sky…”