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“Sit her down there,” Amrick told them, indicating a row of plastic seats. He walked into the aisles of his drug supply, snatching up things as he went from the places he knew they would be. He returned to the customer side of the counter and leaned down to put his face close to Louise’s. Gently taking her left hand, he selected the ring finger and held it up before a small snapping sound produced a dot of blood on her fingertip. Holding a device with a protruding piece of paper to the blood he waited a few seconds with a furrowed brow.

“Please,” he said to Jake over his left shoulder, “go to aisle four and bring back a bottle of Coca-Cola.” Jake left without a word. “Make sure it’s the real deal,” Amrick shouted to him, “and not that sugar-free stuff.”

“Got it,” yelled Jake over the sound of his boots on the shiny shop floor.

Cal watched as the man in the turban tore open the packaging on another box and produced what looked like a small epi-pen. As Jake returned with a warm can of soda, Amrick rolled up the sleeve of Louise’s top and jabbed the small needle into her arm.

She didn’t flinch, whether that was because she had pierced her own skin so many times or whether she was crashing again Cal had no idea. Amrick gripped the ring pull and popped open the can before turning it and encouraging Louise to sip from it.

“The sugary drink will speed up the process,” he told them. “When she is stabilized she will be able to manage it herself, at least I imagine so at her age,” he said. Leaving Louise sipping at the drink autonomously, Amrick straightened and spoke to the others.

“My name is Amrick Ali,” he said. “I am the pharmacist here.”

“Jake Peters,” Jake answered, “NYPD. This is Cal, he’s English.”

Why Jake had to add Cal’s country of origin every time he introduced him made Cal furrow his brow; it was as though the cop was apologizing in advance for anything he might say or do, like he would suddenly produce a bowler hat and an umbrella.

“It is a pleasure to meet you both,” Amrick answered. “Most people call me Ricky, and I suppose I have grown accustomed to being called this.”

“How come you’re still here?” Jake asked him, getting straight to the point. Now that they were deeper inside the store it was obvious that at least one group of people had raided it for supplies. He thought it strange that the pharmacist stayed behind when others had already left town.

“My wife and children have returned to India,” he told them, his eyes casting down, “and I am ashamed to admit that I have never learned to drive.” He finished lamely with his hands held open in an apologetic gesture.

That explained a lot. An awkward silence hung amongst the three men, as though Ricky’s inability to drive was a matter of collective embarrassment.

“You should come with us,” said a quiet voice from lower down. All three men turned to regard the expectant face of Louise, which now showed something resembling its true sparkle of her normal nature. Both Jake and Cal turned back to face him.

“I have no idea where you are going,” he said, “but I believe my chances of doing any good here are small.” He flashed his brilliantly white teeth at them; such an infectious smile that both men returned it through simple cognitive programming to respond that way to another person’s happiness.

Saturday 2 p.m. – Ripley, WV

“Understood,” Drew Briar said into his satellite phone and hung up without saying anything else. Madeline Tanner didn’t wait for him to relay whatever news he had just received in his own time, and stalked toward him. She was mindful not to take out her fears and frustrations on the head of her security detail, but also wasn’t of a mind to wait any longer than she had to. They were holed up in the town diner, the three blacked out SUVs with their blue and red lights having drawn some attention from the locals.

“Ma’am,” Drew said, his face a shade paler than when he had taken the call. “I’ve just spoken with what’s left of the military command. Whoever is attacking us is targeting all known military sites, and most of our communication network has been shut down along with power grids in most states.” He paused, knowing that the information he would have to give her got worse and infinitely more important. “Satellite communications are currently our only viable network, but we have no way of knowing how long that will last.”

“And?” Madeline said, knowing that there was more to come. “What else?”

“There are high-level assets in the state,” he told her, not going into any details as he had few, but he knew that the NSA communications site hidden in the mountains was most likely where that last call had originated from. “Assets have been deployed to the air force base in Charlestown, which are currently not responding to any communications, and will be en route here to extract you.”

“Extract me to where?” she asked.

“A safe site, ma’am,” he said, “but that’s not all…”

“Go on,” Madeline said, narrowing her eyes as he seemed almost embarrassed.

“Ma’am,” he said, raising his eyes to hers where she suspected there may be a glint of wetness. “Washington is gone, completely, and you need to be sworn in as soon as possible.”

“Sworn in? Wh—” She stopped, the realization dawning on her.

“Madame President,” Drew said formally, “these circumstances hardly dictate congratulations, but I’m honored to be at your service.”

Madeline tanner, soon to be the first female President of the United States of America, and in the midst of a surprise war being waged on civilians with the worst casualty rate of any conflict in history, sat her ass down on a seat and let that shock wash over her like a flood.

“Well, shiiit,” she exclaimed breathlessly.

SNATCH AND GRAB

Saturday 2:10 p.m. – Greenbrier Mountains

“Let’s go,” Troy said, “wheels up in five.”

The team had pored over the plans for their mission and waited for the word to go. Not thirty seconds after he had hung up the satellite phone was the first helicopter sparking into violent life and powering up. He had chosen to split the team, both the operators and the air assets. He now piled out the front door of the bunker with four of his team, taking both of their Black Hawks under the escort of a single Apache. This split of the team meant that he would be operating without a fire team partner, but it also meant leaving behind Chalky and the other four operators who could still be an effective fighting unit if his entire deployment didn’t make it back. It also meant taking all of their aircraft which could carry troops, but he hoped to rectify that and bring back more than they left with.

Troy, climbing aboard the helicopter with Valdez and Farrell sat opposite Bones and Ghost, turned to give a thumbs-up to Gina Pilloni in the right-hand seat of the other Black Hawk. He switched his glance up to see that the Apache had already surged skywards under the control of Buck and Healey.

Pulling on his headset handed to him by the loadmaster of his bird as they climbed in altitude, he called out on the squad net for his three helicopters.

“Flight time is two-five minutes,” he said, “repeat, two-five until we are on site.” With that he sat back and closed his eyes, trying to visualize the ground he was heading for. Air force bases all over America, hell all over the world, were built the same way and if you’ve seen one, then you’ve pretty much seen them all. He hoped they would only be on the ground for a few minutes; after years of operating in obscure sandboxes and mostly in the dark, he felt like an alien walking around in full war gear in the daylight, and never before on US soil.