Again a moment of silence.
“John, you were on the phone with me when it hit. You know I and all those around me were as off guard as you and a minute later literally in the dark, same as you and the rest of the country. Pearl Harbor in spades.”
“And if I remember my history, a couple of lectures from long ago at the War College, the warning signs for Pearl were clear enough to read.”
“After the fact,” Bob interjected. “After the fact, the patterns fell into place. But before?”
“Some read it correctly.”
“Don’t tell me you are buying into some conspiracy shit?” Bob snapped. “You’ve too sharp an intellect for that.”
“With everything we had? Surely…”
Bob did not reply.
John fell silent and looked at his friend closely. Bob had answered a little too sharply and quickly. Was there something he was holding back? Even before the Day, Bob held many a secret that generals held while those under him were kept in the dark and knew better than to try to ask. He filed the suspicion away. Bob would only share what he felt he could share at this moment and nothing more.
Bob had aged ten, fifteen years since he had last seen him little more than three years ago. Though there was still something of his once sharp, penetrating gaze of confidence, there also seemed to be an infinite weariness behind the eyes.
His shoulders were rounded over slightly as if carrying some unspeakable burden. Gone was the ramrod-straight posture, that certain look and feel of command. There was a slight tremor to his hands as he held the warm mug. Was it just exhaustion of the moment or something far deeper?
“And out there?” John finally asked, shifting the topic away from the personal for the moment.
“Where?”
“The world. Everything, anything. We no longer trust Voice of America out of Bluemont. We try to glean what we can from the BBC, even China and their News to America program. What’s the straight dope?”
Bob sighed, set his coffee mug down, unscrewed the cap to the flask of scotch, and offered it to John, who took another ounce while Bob emptied the rest back into his cup.
It surprised him. Bob always had a taste for good twelve-and fifteen-year-old scotch, but only after hours and off duty.
“John, the world has gone three-quarters of the way to hell and is tottering on the edge of the final abyss.”
John sipped his coffee and waited.
“From the shores of the eastern Mediterranean to the Indian Ocean. Oil is no longer the export. Maybe when things finally cool down enough, they can sell glass where once had been a score of cities.”
“Who?”
“Israel against the rest. Their ballistic missile shield held protecting Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, but the rest. Their government is now underground in bunkers somewhere out in the Negev desert. It was a full exchange. Then Indian and Pakistan cut loose on each other. Not much left on either side.”
“Russia, China, Europe?” John asked.
“Holding off. Mutually assured destruction at play there. Russia was brushed by the EMP hit that went off course. Saint Petersburg abandoned. Moscow, word is some semblance of order there, the government holed up somewhere out in Siberia with their fingers on the trigger. John, the moment America was taken out of the paradigm of the balance of power, a vacuum was created. While survivors here were trying to just find the next meal, the rest of the world tottered to the edge and at least for the moment have held back from the final descent into the apocalypse.”
“It was the apocalypse here.” John reached over to the thermos to pour out some more coffee for the two of them.
The sun was climbing, radiating at least some warmth into the hangar, the icicles hanging along the eaves dripping puddles of water near their feet.
“John, we hang by the slenderest of threads. We still have a lot of nukes; the navy’s boomers are still out there, each one packing a couple of hundred warheads. The surviving carriers and their escorts pack more.”
“Surviving?”
“Guess we wouldn’t admit it. When all hell broke loose in the Persian Gulf the week after the EMP strike and we launched on Iran in retaliation, they took out two of our carriers with nearly all hands. In the wake of that, with the emergency back home, the assets we had over there, we pulled out.”
He nodded to the Black Hawk fifty yards away, rotors stilled but turbines still humming if things here went sour and Bob decided to pull out quick.
“John, most of what we have here now in the States we pulled out from the Middle East and Europe. After North Korea was taken off the map, equipment from the Pacific was pulled back stateside as well. We try to keep China in check by letting them know if they try anything with nukes, a boomer parked out in the Pacific will hit them with over two hundred nukes—starting with an EMP, of course. Sword of Damocles over their heads if they push us too hard.”
“But Bluemont is ceding half our country to them, Bob. I don’t get it.”
“Let’s just focus on the here and now,” Bob replied, obviously diverting the direction the conversation was taking.
That triggered another suspicion for John, but he knew better than to press the issue—and besides, Bob was right. It was the here and now that he had to focus on.
“Blunt question, Bob, for the ‘here and now.’”
“Go for it.”
“You got other assets nearby just in case this meeting went bad?”
Bob nodded. “Couple of Apaches and an extraction team set down on the far side of Linville Gorge. Sorry, but that’s the way it is.”
“Hell of a position for two old friends, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“So why are you here?”
“To talk as we are right now.”
“Why?”
“John, you most likely know the political and military situation for our country. BBC has been rather close to the mark, and I assume you’ve been monitoring that.”
“We have.”
“I eventually was assigned out west, commander center in Cheyenne Mountain for a stint. We all knew it was a no-win with China. Sure, humanitarian aid was the guise; they wanted it to look like another Marshall Plan, with ‘hearts and minds’ thrown in. Can’t blame the folks out in California and on the rest of the West Coast. Infrastructure down, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Seattle, even Vancouver turning into snake pits of chaos. Someone trying to keep their family alive, feel that our government has utterly failed to protect, and container ships flying red flags start coming in. Rations, water purification plants, medical supplies.”
He paused. “Things like insulin, John. What would you have done?”
That barb, if it was intended as such, stung deeply, and he did not reply.