“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’m ordering all of you to go back to your seats. Immediately. Holster those weapons,” Dutch shouted.
Sharon appeared, peering out from the executive suite. A handful of others from the presidential staff goosenecked into the hallway, alarmed by the ruckus.
More slowly than he would’ve preferred, Dutch’s secret servicemen returned their handguns to their shoulder holsters, yet they remained in a protective posture. Dutch physically pushed them into the hallway, stepped back into the conference room and closed the doors behind him. On the other side of the door, he hoped everyone was ratcheting down their testosterone and returning to their seats.
“Control yourself and act like a goddamn professional,” Dutch seethed at Greaney. “This is no time to lose your cool.” Dutch smoothed his tie. “Now, how do you propose to handle objectors? I want to know exactly what you’re planning to do with those officers.”
12
As evening descended on the Eastern seaboard, President of the United States, Nathaniel “Dutch” McAdams spoke to America. His staff had debated delaying the speech until 5 p.m. on the West Coast so that more of the country could tune in, but with the power outages and the severe stock market interruptions, nobody was likely to be at work on the West Coast anyway.
The stock markets hadn’t been open for more than twenty minutes total that entire day; with huge sell-offs causing the protective algorithms to halt trading within minutes of opening.
A new wrinkle had arisen to curse the equity markets. Considering the massive damage to California real estate, few insurance companies were safe from the threat of bankruptcy, and their stock values plummeted based on that uncertainty. Even though homeowner’s insurance almost never covered atomic war, it almost always covered damage from civil disorder, and that was enough to send the value of insurance shares into a tailspin.
On top of regular homeowner’s insurance, thousands of bond issues and other forms of insurance covered corporations, buildings and public works. Something called “re-insurance” covered the insurance companies from too many claims, and of course, those re-insurance mega-corporations were running for cover now as well. With Southern California quite possibly devastated, the markets for bonds, securities and insurance were in free fall.
Runs on banks had become commonplace. Although it was Wednesday, comparisons to the Black Friday of the Great Depression rang across news channels, and the media settled on the catchy, but unhelpful moniker of Black Autumn to describe the sudden, terrifying fall of the financial industry.
Blackouts in the East rolled back and forth, not leaving the East and Midwest entirely without power, but depriving people of any confidence that the power grid would return. Dutch began to suspect that the Russian hack, if it was a Russian hack, was intentionally designed to keep them guessing.
In his speech, Dutch decided to bet all his chips on honesty with the American people. And if honesty failed, he would cash in on anger.
“My fellow Americans,” the historic speech began.
Dutch told America the whole story insomuch as he knew it. He revealed everything he knew about the nuclear attack—that it had been a small bomb with few casualties and that the radiation readings showed no appreciable risk to Los Angelinos, particularly if offshore winds held. He told America about his suspicions that Iran had been responsible for the attack on Saudi Arabia. Then, Dutch told America about the cyberattack and his personal belief that a foreign nation had used a hack to capitalize on America’s current misfortunes.
Dutch pled for calm. He begged people to return to their homes and their jobs. More than anything, he urged law and order.
Dutch addressed the question of “Fair Power” directly and assured the American people that he had personally telephoned several CEOs of power companies, and he had received their assurances that everything possible was being done to provide electrical power to all people and in all neighborhoods.
Dutch laid it on the line, delivering one of the best, most authentic speeches of his career. By accounts among the staff on Air Force One, the speech bordered on heroic, and they broke into applause the moment after he signed off.
More than anything, Dutch told the whole truth.
Much later, as he looked back on the events of Black Autumn and on his speech, Dutch would conclude that everyone might have been better off if he had concocted a helpful lie instead.
13
“Mister President,” Sam Greaney interrupted a late dinner between husband and wife.
“Yes, Sam?” Dutch wiped his mouth and steeled himself for news.
“At least seventeen major cities are in full-scale riot. I have troops in eleven of them and columns approaching two more. It didn’t take long for the rioters to figure out that our men won’t shoot, given that the rioters are well informed from social media. Our troops are unable to control the civil disorder. Mister President; we need approval to go weapons free, and we need it now or servicemen will die.”
Dutch looked to Sharon, but other than her full attention, she had nothing to offer this dilemma.
“I’m going to need a minute to think about this, Sam.” Dutch got up to move into his suite, his intention to pray.
“While you’re both here,” Sam hesitated, “I heard back from the teams we sent to your parents’ homes. Sharon, your parents weren’t there. Their condo complex appears to have been evacuated en masse and our team is trying to figure out where they went.
“Dutch, I don’t know how else to say this, but we found your mother and father deceased in their home. I’m very sorry.”
Dutch sputtered, “How can that be? They don’t live anywhere near L.A.. They’re hours from the city.”
“The town of Bishop is only two hundred miles from Los Angeles—less than a tank of gas. My guys made it to your dad’s ranch in a Blackhawk helicopter from China Lake in fifteen minutes. The roads were packed solid, and people from Los Angeles have been picking everything clean anywhere near a highway. It looks like your dad went down fighting. I had my men return your parents’ bodies to the Naval weapons base nearby, awaiting your orders.”
Dutch reached for the edge of the table to stop the world from spinning. His mom and dad were in their eighties, and Dutch had been preparing himself to lose them for a long time, and the fact that they had both lived into their eighties had been a blessing. Still, losing them both at once hit Dutch like a haymaker. “Could you please excuse us, Sam?”
“Of course.” Sam closed the conference room doors behind him.
Dutch turned to Sharon, who had a hard look in her eyes, following Sam as he left the room. Seeing his grief, she softened. “Oh, Dutch, I’m so sorry.”
“I can’t believe they’re gone. It doesn’t make sense. I just spoke with my dad last week…”
“I’m sorry, Dutch.” The couple held onto each other for a long time, letting the waves of grief wash over them. Sharon pulled back to look Dutch in the eyes.
“Dutch, I don’t want to make this any harder than it is, but… your parents have a gate and a wall. They have loyal staff. Their neighbors are country people. Your dad refused secret service coverage because his ranch was already so secure. Are you buying this story?”
Dutch blinked away the fog floating around his head. “I hadn’t thought about not buying Sam’s story. There’s no reason for him to lie… denial is a part of grief, Sharon.”
“Maybe. But only two bodies? What about the others? Your mom and dad wouldn’t have been fighting alone. A lot of people care about them and they wouldn’t have left them alone with refugees marching down the highway.”