Chapter 57 | Remnants
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Chapter 57

Remnants


3:12 P.M. EST

The DS Agents whisked the Secretary of State, Marsha Kelly, through several winding passages. She emerged onto a street with multiple waiting black-colored vans. As cabinet members and government officials were thrust into their respective vehicles, Marsha quickly glanced around.

Though the street had been cleared; noise of the mass evacuation filled the city's ambiance. Hell was breaking loose, and the nation's leadership was in no position to react in time. Autonomous command over the defense of the capitol had been delegated to the JFHQ-NCR. God help us all, Marsha thought.

Marsha was shoved into her van just as it sped off. Making up her security detail, were several DS agents. that had made it into the vehicle with her. For a moment the image of their families flashed through her mind. Crisis such as these tended to bring out some of the worst in humanity, and if these men had abandoned their duties to secure the wellbeing of their families, she wouldn’t have blamed them. However, her DS special agents remained staunchly adherent to their duty and fell back onto their training.

As they sped through crowded streets, military Humvees led the way, clearing the masses from blocking their evacuation path. The going only slowed when they were forced to confront the multitudes of stranded vehicles that had failed to survive the initial EMP blast. The military and government had spared no effort in protecting their assets from such an event and it was now proving its worth many times over. The humvees rammed idle vehicles out of the path of the fleeing government officials.

As Marsha watched on, several government vans began to diverge, determined in their duty to deliver their hosts to classified locations across the D.C. area. The COG plan had been in place to protect the nation’s government in case of a nuclear exchange, but now it was being used to safeguard the government from an extraterrestrial invasion.

Her shoulders slumped slightly as she watched the multitudes of people fleeing the city. From the young to the old, the crippled to the healthy, everyone was evacuating. Since the EMP had disabled their vehicles, everyone was forced to walk while her convoy sped along, forcing those in front of them out of the way. Marsha saw the look on their faces. Some hatred, some desperation, most yearning to be allowed into the vehicles and join the evacuation.

Suddenly, flames engulfed the van in front of her, and Marsha was blinded as explosions roared around her.

“What the hell is going on!?” Marsha ducked her head and yelled towards Mike, the head of her DS agent detail.

“Stay down Madam Secretary!”

Marsha had long since learned that listening to her DS agents was the most sensible thing she could do. Memories from Kuwait still haunted her to this day.

“Get us out of here then Mike!” Marsha shrieked as she clenched the support handles in the car.

Marsha didn’t know which government officials had met their end, but she sure as hell wasn't planning on joining them.

As the van sped up, navigating between wreckage, Marsha was thrown back into her seat. As they weaved through the streets ahead, avoiding fiery blasts, Marsha glanced upwards through the van's sunroof. Her eyes widened.

Above them, the sky was swarming with the silhouettes of flying beings. Twisted alien creatures, looking like a cross between a flying reptile and a human, flew through the sky. Marsha couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight. The creatures rained blazing projectiles onto the city below.

In a matter of minutes, Marsha watched as their van tore away from the destruction of the city behind them. She turned her head around, but immediately wished she hadn't. All that greeted her eyes was the sight of a burning city. The White House, the Capitol Building, everything... Was now fuel for the destruction of America's heart. Not since the War of 1812 had the nation experienced the loss of its seat of Government.

The enormity of the destruction weighed down on the Secretary. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she'd bear witness to the collapse of American society.

⤜⤚⤙⤛

6:27 P.M. EST

Several hours later, deep within a classified bunker, Marsha held her head between her hands and clenched her teeth. Things were going from bad to worse.

"What do you mean that the Speaker's and President Pro Tempore's helos went down!? They should have been en route the moment the evacuation was called by the President!" Marsha was irate.

"They broke protocol Madam Secretary... They were the last ones to leave," Mike said.

Marsha stood up suddenly and banged her fists on the table, "They should have been the first!" she seethed.

"Madam Secretary, the secret service detail that was assigned to them tried their best, if-"

"Mike!" Marsha yelled, "you don't get it, do you!? Nobody does!"

Mike made the decision to respond with silence. He had long learned that when the Secretary's temper soared, you get out of the way and let her burn herself out.

Marsha went through a tirade of explicatives, not directed towards anyone in particular, but at the situation itself. Only after several minutes did Marsha's heart rate begin to settle down.

As she gradually calmed, Marsha started to explain her diatribe, "Mike... the line of succession is at stake here. The President is missing, and now the Speaker and President Pro Tempore are dead. If President Adams were to die as well... then... Vice President Stump would take his place. It doesn't take a brain to realize that Cory is a fool," Marsha said, exasperated.

She paced back and forth for several few moments, attempting to firmly grasp the reality of the situation. She paused and then returned her gaze towards Mike. "Look... Mike, we need to find the President. If we lose him, Cory takes over. The cretin can barely finish a sentence properly, much less be expected to manage a nation in crisis. The clincher here is that, if Cory hits the bucket... well, we both know what that means."

Mike nodded, "I understand Madam Secretary."

"Good... And Mike? I need you to run some orders for me, can you handle that?"

With his nod, Marsha directed, "get one of the military liaisons in here. I want to know what the hell is with the status of our communications."

Mike left the room, intent on carrying out the task.

Unfortunately, given the current situation, everyone had to carry more than their fair share of weight. Ideally, the evacuation would have been smooth, every essential personnel would have made it to the bunkers. But, that failed to happen. The loss of so many of her staffers was particularly bothersome for Marsha.

As it was, Marsha had barely half the staff that she needed to run the entire State Department. On top of that, the Vice-President was still refusing to take charge, and Marsha was forced to pick up the slack. If they didn't locate the President, then she only feared the worse.

As the minutes ticked by, Marsha sat, waiting, in the cramped office space. Disturbed dust circulated the air of the long-dormant government bunker. It was eerily silent. Unnerving would put it lightly. As she glanced around, shadows took on a menacing persona. The walls of the enclosed space seemed to close in tighter and tighter.

She took a deep breath and then exhaled. Yes, the entire situation was spiraling out of control. And yes, the nation's leadership was completely out of touch with the entire country. But, there wasn't much that she could do. If she began focusing on things outside of her control, then she'd very quickly become overwhelmed. Only one thing at a time, she told herself.

Once several minutes passed, Mike returned with the State Departments' current military liaison, Harold, along with several other aides. Everyone was quite agitated right now, but no one more so than the man that stood in front of her. Yet, Harold still managed to keep it together, unlike a certain Vice-President.

"You best give me a good reason, Harold, why are we still struggling to get communications out?" Marsha pressed.

Harold stiffened at the accusatory tone Marsha had taken, “We’ve attempted wireless contact with units across the area, but outside a fifty-mile radius, communications cease operating," Harold attempted to explain. "As of now, we are calling this interference radius “The Line”, anything that approaches that fifty-mile corridor has failed to make contact.”

Marsha's temper had notoriously been... Touchy. She stared at him, with a viperous glare in her eyes, “I don't care for your excuses Harold, just get it back online”, she fumed.

Despite the obvious vitriol in her voice, Harold still managed to stand firm, although he shifted rather uncomfortably.

Caught off guard, Harold stammered, "Madam President... There is still another alternative to wireless communications..."

Marsha motioned for him to continue, "out with it then."

“We haven’t used it in decades, but the reinforced cables under D.C. should still be in a functional condition.” Harold tried.

She pondered that assertion for a moment, they've been sitting in the dark for several hours and she just now heard about alternative solutions? It struck her patience. “Well? Do whatever you need to get communications restored then!” she hissed out.

Like a dog with its tails between its legs, Harold scampered away. Part of Marsha felt guilt at her harsh demeanor, but she was beginning to feel the weight of an entire nation on her shoulders. That mere fact was not helping her remain calm.

With Harold attending to the task of restoring communications, Marsha's focus returned to the several aides lined in front of the room. “What are the current figures regarding the cities?” she asked the assembled individuals.

A voice answered succinctly—just how she liked it— “Anyone who failed to evacuate the cities within the first hour or two is likely lost or beyond our ability to rescue.”

That posed bad news for the President. As of now, reports indicated Air Force One had been taking off when the EMP blast had hit. Much like the electronic systems in the Presidential Emergency Operations Center, Air Force One's systems had also been forced to undergo a reboot.

While normally that wouldn't have caused much of an issue, in this case, it took only a brief moment for the plane's ascent to be compromised. The plane had crashed into the streets of wartorn Washington. Recovery operations were ongoing, but achieving any significant progress remained extremely difficult. Considering the amount of fighting going on within the nation's capital, any rescue operation was in danger of being compromised at any moment.

"What are our options of taking out those wormholes?" Marsha asked.

Marsha's question was returned with silence. Not because there was a lack of an answer from the assembled aides, but because of a universal unwillingness to provide it.

Marsha raised her head and looked into each aide's eyes.

"Well?" Marsha pressed.

Then, one brave soul stepped forward.

"Madam Secretary, it's likely that nothing short of a nuclear warhead would disrupt the integrity of the wormholes," the man proclaimed with great regret.

Marsha stared at the man.

"You're proposing to fire a nuke into American cities?"

The man nodded.

Marsha breathed out, "are there any other options? Firing nuclear armaments is a resort reserved for the President. As far as I'm aware, I am not the President."

Another aide spoke up, an older woman with tied-back blonde hair. "Madam Secretary, there are no other options. The longer these wormholes remain, the longer we allow the invaders to advance further into the American heartland. We'd be saving countless American lives, and giving ourselves a fighting chance."

"You realize the irony there, don't you? How would we be saving lives by nuking American cities!?" Marsha seethed.

The aide retreated a step, before explaining herself, "Madam President, evacuation notices have been in place in every major population center for several hours now. If anyone hasn't managed to leave the cities yet, then they are likely already dead or soon will be. We can provide an additional advanced warning to anyone still within range of nuclear targets via the Emergency Alert System, but the longer we wait, the more the situation will be exacerbated."

Marsha leaned back in her chair. Her eyebrows drew together, as her mouth tightened, the corners pointed downwards in a frown. What in the living hell? Were they actually considering wiping American cities off the face of the map? She thought, clearly conflicted.

"Do you believe the situation is that untenable?" Marsha inquired as she swallowed deeply.

In unison, they all nodded.

"God help us all," Marsha muttered as she grasped her head and rubbed her temples.

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More acronyms!

JFHQ-NCR stands for: Joint Force Headquarters - National Capital Region

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