It was a stealthier weapon than any before, so small as to be nearly undetectable. The Russian scientists were calling POSEIDON their new doomsday machine. The hair rose on Pike’s arm and warning bells began to ring quietly in the back of his head. He went on to read that Russia had plans to use this weapon against the United Sates.
The big plan was to detonate the weapon, about the size of a torpedo, off the Eastern Seaboard. It would be programed to explode underwater with a 100-megaton yield, resulting in a massive radioactive tsunami that would wash over the entire East Coast.
Why does Russia hate us so much? he wondered, a sick feeling growing in his gut. Why was it that damn near every country out there wanted to bomb the living hell out of the United States? He knew America pissed many countries off, but he knew other countries pissed the U.S. off as well. What was it that made these countries want to wreak havoc on millions of innocent people?
Most Americans had little to no say in politics, though they were told otherwise. Many decisions were made without the complete knowledge of the American public. There were half-truths, fake news, misspoken utterances by politicians. Christ, most Americans were just as confused by their government as the rest of the world. Why did Russia want to destroy it so badly?
POSEIDON was considered a stealth weapon because of its speed and size. It was more like a torpedo, but housed a nuclear reactor. It was considered a deterrent, not an actual bomb or weapon of mass destruction. Pike’s fingers flew over the keys as he quickly wrote back to Margo. His hands were shaking badly; he’d never been this disturbed by anything before.
Where did you get this? Is it real? Send me any more information you have on it. Thanks.
He looked around the office, saw Johnny at his computer, his broad shoulders hunched over his desk. Johnny must have gone to the barbers to freshen up his crewcut, because the back of his head was red. He must go there once a week to keep it blocked, Pike mused. Pike leaned over and called to him, in a low voice, “Johnny, you need to see this, dude.”
His eyes darted over to Bev; he didn’t want her hearing this. She’d end up putting her nose into it and he didn’t want to hear what she had to say.
“What? What is it?” Johnny said, rolling his chair over to Pike’s desk, rocking his body back and forth to gain momentum. He wore khaki trousers that were a little short in the legs, so a great deal of his ankles showed, along with his black socks. He always wore Dockers, and they were always khaki. He also wore variations of plaid button-down cotton shirts. He really looked like he was out of a 1950s fashion magazine.
“A friend of mine sent me this article. It’s about a Russian high-yield nuclear weapon. It could be detonated off the East Coast and cause a nuclear tsunami,” Pike said, worry in his voice, his trembling hand indicating his screen. He saw it, clenched his shaking hand into a fist and put it in his lap.
“Dude, are you serious? You frickin' called me over to see that crap? That’s fake news, dude. Don’t you know any better?” Johnny laughed, throwing his head back, his large teeth gleaming in the florescent lights of the office. He smacked Pike on the back, causing Pike to fall forward into his desk and computer. Pike didn’t know if he did that on purpose or if he really didn’t know his own strength.
“What’s going on?” Beverly asked, her head turning on a swivel. She brushed crumbs off her blouse and dabbed at her mouth delicately with a paper napkin. One of her fake eyelashes had come loose and was hanging half off her eyelid; it was very distracting every time she blinked.
Pike groaned internally. He really didn’t want her two cents on this. He tried not to roll his eyes, as it always made her mad. She gave him filthy looks when he said something she didn’t agree with. He figured she didn’t believe in freedom of speech or radical thinking. He shot Johnny a dirty look, his azure eyes narrowing.
“Pike is scared we’re going to be blown off the map with some stupid torpedo. He says it’s going to make a tidal wave and wipe us all out.” Johnny laughed, his big horsey teeth reminding Pike of a jackass laughing or braying.
“What? How?” Beverly asked, wheeling herself over, her body rocking violently back and forth while her heels clicked loudly on the tile floor. She rarely walked: she had ankles the size of hams. Johnny called them kanklesauruses. She was always out of earshot, though. Pike didn’t think Johnny liked her any better than he did, but at times like this, they were buddy-buddy.
“Look at his computer. He has this fake news bullshit up. It’s about something called POSEIDON, a Ruski doomsday weapon. It’s supposed to make a hundred-foot tidal wave and wipe us out. And then it’s supposed to radioactivate us.” Johnny brayed like the jackass he resembled, his face turning bright red and his body folding in on itself. He stomped his big foot and his pant leg nearly rode up to his knee.
“Are you kidding me? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. There’s no way in hell those asshole Russians are going to blow us up. We have way too many nuclear weapons. We could bury them before they even blinked their red Ruski eyes.” Beverly snorted knowingly, shaking her head like a bobble-head toy.
“I think it’s real. This guy, Dr. Rhy and his colleague, Caroline Jenson say it is, and they work for homeland security,” Pike defended the article, his chest puffing out, his eyes narrowing and his mouth thinning out in a mulish slant.
“Right, like I said, fake news, dude. The damn Russians probably posted this crap, you know, like propaganda. They post that kind of crap on Facebook all the time to stir up trouble, get people all scared and shit. Besides, it’s probably a budget scare,” Johnny said, his eyes darting to Beverly.
“What’s that?” Beverly asked, sipping on her iced coffee held in one hand while she clasped a Krispy Kreme doughnut in the other; lemon. She had a blob of lemon filling on her blouse.
Johnny leaned back in his I’m going to give it to you straight pose, propped one foot on his knee and folded both hands behind his head like this was something he had to get comfortable for. “It’s when the government starts a bunch of bullshit rhetoric in Congress or something to try and scare everyone. They throw all these statistics around, crow about how it’s vital to national security, blah… blah… blah. That way, they get the money they want for all their pet projects and, also, it’s to make themselves out to be fat cats, you know, real important, like they’re looking out for Americans. You know, to make sure they have a job at the end of the fiscal year.” Johnny tapped his head with his blunt index finger as he winked knowingly, first to Beverly and then to Pike.
“Yeah, I believe that more than Russia shooting torpedoes at us,” Beverly snorted. “Really Pike, are you that stupid? This is the exact reason why you only have a few listings. Now, if you were really smart, you’d have a butt-load like me and Johnny. You keep reading all that garbage and see where it gets you. You need to unplug from that trash and focus on your job, not all that fake news stuff.” Beverly grinned condescendingly, her bright red lips pursed with scorn.
“You know she’s right, Pike. You always fall for this crap. Look at the books on your desk, dude. Prepper shit. EMP crap. You should be having books about economics, accounting, psychology, counseling. Those are the real deal, the tools of your trade, dude. Those should be on your desk, not this other shit. If you want to succeed in real estate, dude, you need to get your head in the game.” Johnny shook his head and rolled back to his desk, his large body rocking back and forth, the back of his head a brilliant scarlet.