“We’ve killed thousands of our citizens. For nothing.”
“Get on the horn to the president, Don. Tell him the creatures are going to be on the run again in about thirty minutes.”
“I can’t get to the president. Neither can SECDEF, for that matter, unless he demands to see him in person or the president contacts him directly. That bitch won’t let anyone near him. I have to go through her.”
Derek knew he was speaking about Jessie Hruska. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“It gets better. They’re replacing Ray with Thad Metzger.”
“Metzger? He’s a goddamned looney tune!”
“Apparently somebody at the top thinks differently.”
“Metzger will go nuclear, Don.”
“After what you’ve told me, we may not have any choice.”
“We’re trying to find another option. You’ve got to buy us some time here.”
“I don’t think there’s a whole lot I can do. I don’t have any access.”
General Rammes thought long and hard before he spoke. He needed to choose his words carefully, for even secure lines were monitored at times. He knew one simple word should do it: “Coastie?”
There was a long silence on the other end of the secure line. General Rammes knew his old friend had immediately understood what he was getting at.
Insubordination was always a tricky subject. Especially when you were talking about directly circumventing the authority of the president of the United States.
CHAPTER 50
The president of the United States now had the blood of countless thousands of American citizens on his hands. He’d given the order to release the soman. An order at the time he’d felt was justified and completely necessary. No, essential.
Sacrifice some, in order to save many more.
But in the end, it had been a meaningless sacrifice. All the people had died for nothing.
“Mr. President, four of the waves are currently within the target cities. We’re going to lose Springfield, Des Moines, St. Louis, and Wichita.” The SECDEF rubbed his eyes, tired. “The wave outside Lincoln is continuing westward, roughly following I-80. We’ve started evacuation procedures in all the cities and towns along that path, from Grand Island to Denver.”
“Evacuation procedures.” The president spoke the words flatly, with no emotion. “It’s not going to matter, Tank. It’s not going to matter one bit.”
“We’ve got to try, sir.”
“And the birds?” the president asked.
“The birds are still fully engaged in Minneapolis-St. Paul, Little Rock, and Oklahoma City.” He paused. “It seems to take them longer.”
The president looked at his watch. Soon, the sun would rise over Washington, DC, signaling an end to the most horrific night in American history. A night when thousands of Americans had died. Some at the hands of the beasts. Many more at the hands of their own president.
“Tank, we’ve got a few more hours until they go to ground again. When they do, I want exact locations mapped out and targeted.”
“Targeted, sir?” He didn’t want to know what the president was thinking, although he was certain what he meant.
“Targeted. Fixed. Exact locations. We’re going to have to move fast while we have daylight.”
“Understand, sir.”
“The birds, Tank. During the day, can we assume they will go to ground as well? Stay in the cities?”
“Possible, sir. Once we have daylight, we can find them. If they form some sort of cocoons — like the ground waves did — they’ll be immobile long enough for us to locate most of them.”
“Just as long as they’re in the same general area, Tank.”
This statement confirmed it. No pinpoint targeting. No conventional attacks. The president’s meaning was crystal clear. “Sir, if we choose this course of action, I recommend we wait until the last possible moment. We need to allow as many people as possible to escape the immediate areas. Upwind. Away from the fallout.”
“Start working on a plan, Tank. I want something ready by sunup.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
As Tank Stone exited the Oval Office, he passed Jessie Hruska. She offered a greeting, but he didn’t return it.
He closed the office door behind him.
“Mr. President?”
“Sit down, Jessie. Please.”
She sat in one of the chairs placed in the center of the Oval Office, facing an identical set of chairs just a few feet away, the Great Seal of the President of the United States embroidered on the rug at her feet. “Tank looked like you’d just kicked him in the stomach. What happened?”
The president sat beside her. “I have to nuke them, Jessie.”
She fought to conceal her excitement. “But, the soman — when I left, the reports said—”
“The reports were wrong. They’re resistant to it. Vanguard released soman on one of the captured creatures, and it lived. If I’d have known, I wouldn’t have ordered the attack.”
“Andrew, you did what you had to do. You had to act.”
“Too quickly. If I’d only waited an hour longer—”
“You’d only have delayed the inevitable. Those people were as good as dead, Andrew. We both know that.”
“Have you ever seen what soman does to a person, Jessie?”
“Yes, I have. I know what it does. It’s a horrible, painful death. But would it have been any less painful for them if they’d been attacked by the creatures? We’ve seen what they can do, too.”
“I killed thousands of people who may have otherwise survived.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Bullshit. You made the right decision based on the information you had at the time. There’s no other way to look at it, Andrew. Second-guessing yourself is not going to do you — or this country — any good. It’s over. It’s done. We know chemical weapons won’t work now. We don’t have to waste time considering that option any longer.”
The president was tired. More tired than he’d felt his entire life. Her words were making sense. Yes, he’d made a decision when a decision had to be made. It had turned out to be wrong — terribly wrong — but at the time, it seemed like the most logical course of action.
They knew conventional forces wouldn’t be able to stop the creatures.
They knew — now — that chemical weapons would be useless.
Not issuing the order would just have delayed the inevitable.
When the whole nightmare began, deep down in his gut he knew he would eventually be forced to resort to the release of the most powerful weapons ever devised by man, to stop the spread.
That time was now.
Jessie leaned closer, placing her hand on the back of his neck. She rubbed, gently, and his tension began to fade away.
As did Andrew Smith.
This was the strongest dose yet.
The first dim light from the rising sun shone through the thick bulletproof windows of the Oval Office. Her red hair reflected the morning light, thin strands of fire framing her perfect face. The president was transfixed by her beauty.
Even with all the death and destruction weighing so heavily on him, he found it impossible to concentrate on anything other than her at that moment.
Just her.
She took his hand. Her grip was soft, warm. Loving. Incredibly alive.
“Andrew?”
He looked into her eyes. The effect was hypnotic. He couldn’t look away.
“You know what you have to do, Andrew.”
“I know what I have to do.” His voice was far away, detached.