Apache Dawn, - [little bear else holmelund minarik txt] 📗

Without waiting for a response from Reginald, he sat up, the phone forgotten. He couldn’t be sure, but thought he could smell a familiar fragrance at the edge of his perception. It was like a sound drifting through a winter fog: one second it was there, then it was gone. His heart quickened. Was Jayne there in the darkness somewhere?

“The large urban centers are increasingly desperate for food, clean water, and medical supplies, correct?”

The President had to push thoughts of Jayne out of his mind long enough to concentrate on the question. “Uh, yes, yes. Boston…” He rubbed his head again. It was so hard to think when he smelled her perfume. What was it about her that made him so…distracted?

“Yes…?” prompted the voice on the phone.

“Uh…Philadelphia, New York, Charleston…the big ones. The chaos North Korea is causing out west is nothing compared to what we’re dealing with, thanks to this damn flu. It’s completely disrupted the national distribution of food and supplies by…by…” Why is it so hard to think?

“…Train?” prodded Reginald’s voice.

“No…the highways. Trucks.” The President shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Dammit all, why is it so hard to concentrate? Another image of Jayne flashed through his mind when he inhaled. The worries of the country faded to a pulsing throb instead of an urgent flare.

“To secure the help of the member nations, you will have to suspend your Constitution in those areas controlled by—”

“What?” he asked sharply. “What do you mean, suspend the Constitution?”

“These are European soldiers, European doctors, and European commanders. Come now, Mr. President, surely even you cannot expect them to just throw away thousands of years of traditions and laws overnight to appease a country that can’t take care of itself?” the voice on the phone said sweetly.

“They will police and secure the urban areas, feed, heal, and protect the people, in their own manner. The times ahead will be trying and—quite honestly—they will not be able to operate effectively if they are constantly worried about lawsuits, threats, protests, riots, and random gunfights. The French are already making sounds that they are ready to leave. You understand what must be done…?”

Reginald continued to talk, but the President wasn’t listening anymore. It seemed that Jayne’s fragrance was even stronger than ever now. Almost like the air itself was pregnant with her scent. It was intoxicating. The President figured he’d agree to anything right about now. Suspending the Constitution and letting foreign troops handle things their own way seemed so easy. Just say the words…little words…

“Yes, of course,” he said, his voice dull and lifeless.

“Good. Remember, this is all for the survival of your nation. When this is all over, we will discuss repayment to the member nations. Oil rights, water rights, land rights, and so on. Mere details.”

Details? Harold’s mind reeled in shock. Did Reginald seriously just ask me to give up national sovereignty as repayment?

“For now, I suggest the following: after your upcoming cabinet meeting—”

“How did you know I was—”

“You will give a speech detailing our new agreement and use your executive powers to impose temporary martial law nationwide. That should give you something to do with all your homeward-bound military forces—that is, those that survive the journey, of course.”

“What do you mean, ‘survive the journey’?”

“Oh nothing, really. It’s just that it seems such an awfully long commute for so many of your men and women in uniform…it seems only natural that a few of them wouldn’t make it home. Perhaps local warlords in some of the more unsavory areas your military has previously controlled by threat-of-force, may take a few shots at your collective backs…I’m just thinking off the top of my head, mind you.”

“This is—”

“Of course, you will talk up your decision to suspend the Constitution in all major cities under U.N control—you need to make the people understand how hard it was for you to come to this decision, after all. Then be sure to announce that the people enforcing the martial law will be U.N. personnel. It will make the transition after all this is cleared up that much smoother. Trust me, we’ve done this before. In the meantime, I strongly suggest you remind your citizens that in times of martial law, summary justice may be used to quell riots. I understand your people will be…reluctant…to accept these new policies, but if you remind them that this is a temporary measure, and only applicable to the cities on your list—”

“Are you serious?” gasped the President. “You realize that even if this works in the cities, you’re going to start a civil war, right? The rural areas of this country are simply infested with gun-toting, Bible-thumping conservatives that are just looking for an excuse to overthrow the government. There’s militias everywhere!”

“Please, Mr. President, save the party rhetoric for your political hacks. You and I both know that is just political…bullshit. The so-called conservative movement in your nation is simply not waiting for an opportunity to start a war. They are more set in their ways, true, and they will take more time to adjust to the new facts of life. However, they are by far the more practical of your citizens. We have seen it time and time again in Europe over the years. It is the conservatives that learn to embrace the new order first. The cities are the areas on which we need to focus. Enclaves of the liberal minds. The liberals are what founded your nation. George Washington, Thomas Jefferson…were these men not what you would call liberal?”

“I…well, they were classical liberals, not modern…but…” Harold stammered. He could not think straight. There was just too much—

“As to your mischievous North Koreans,” said Reginald thoughtfully. “You shall continue your course of action. Fight them vigorously. You may pull your troops from the eastern half of your country to reinforce those in the west. Trust me, from what I have seen, you are going to need the help. My employer believes the Koreans are going to invite their overlords, the Chinese, to settle your West Coast rather quickly. My sources in Pyongyang feel once they have settlers occupying the land your people have abandoned—”

“No one has abandoned anything!” the President hissed. “They’re killing innocent Americans and taking the land.”

“Ah, but is the flu not killing many times more than the North Koreans? They seem to be immune…and when the Chinese civilians arrive, if you attack them, the world community will be hard pressed to give you their support. You will have your own Gaza Strip!” Another sadistic chuckle.

“We’ve figured that out, thank you very much. I’ve seen the photos of the fleet. But, as long as we get the Source to safety—”

“Ah yes,” purred Reginald. “The young man who carries around in his blood the salvation of a nation. Someone should make a movie about that.”

“Well, from what I hear, Hollywood has been destroyed.”

Reginald’s laugh sent a shiver down the President’s spine. “Regardless of your movie-making capabilities, I know how to solve this situation as well. We have been tracking your Source,” he said smugly. “As well as the Koreans. In fact, I have personally dispatched a special Russian outfit that is en route as we speak to a location in Idaho.”

“Idaho? Why—”

“Because we have evaluated the Korean pursuit and we’re confident they will drive your man right into our open arms. Which, by the way, will be the best outcome. We will then handle the North Koreans, and your men can stand down.”

“How…?”

“Oh, a little code we came across allowed us access to your HD-GPS tracking network…” Reginald chuckled.

The President closed his eyes. That damn code again. How long will it torment me? What further damage can it do?

There was a soft knock on the door to his private suite. “Yes!” he called, covering the cell phone with his hand. He winced at the harshness of his voice almost as soon as he said the word.

“Uh…they’re ready for you in the conference room, sir,” said a muffled voice.

“Thank you,” he replied. He put on his jacket and adjusted his tie in the mirror before opening the door. As the President walked with a purpose down the corridor flanked by Secret Service agents, he spoke again to Reginald.

“So the speech…” prompted Reginald.

“If you think that is the best course of action, then I’ll do it, of course,” said the President, trying to sound more authoritative than he felt. He had to at least put on a show for the agents.

“Very good, Mr. President. We will weather this storm together. You will see. I very much look forward to watching your speech, and meeting your new Vice President.” The line went dead.

“I haven’t told you—” The President looked at his secure mobile phone, turned it off, and shook his head in disgust, then dropped the phone in his jacket pocket.

How the hell does he know so much? He glanced suspiciously at the agent on his left. Who’s the mole?

Reginald still didn’t give me anything on the Koreans. Or China, other than a civilian wave is coming…what does that mean?

The President let the agents open the door to the conference room and stepped inside with a mumbled thanks. One wall of the room had an enormous screen displaying a mix of international news stations. The American media had gone silent at his request.

“—that President Barron is clearly losing control of the situation in America, and I for one am glad that the United Nations are acting so swiftly to secure peace for our dear friends across the pond,” said the grainy picture of the British Prime Minister. He leaned in closer to the microphone thrust in his face by an unseen reporter. “Let me be