TITLE: It's The End Of The World
AUTHOR: VIDZ
WARNINGS: the title says it all... it's a pretty dark fic, everyone dies.
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc of the TV show JAG, PC game ArmA 2 (in particular the Eagle Wing campaign) and the song "It's the end of the world as we know it" are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this fic. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Playing the war simulator ArmA 2, more accurately, the bonus campain Eagle Wing and getting to the point where the nuclear end of the world happens my mind immediately wondered... what if JAG and the game were in the same AU, what would people at JAG do upon finding out there were nukes heading their way? How would they spend their last minutes alive?
To explain: the campaign Eagle Wing has a linear storyline and no matter how good you are, it ends with a nuclear war where the entire world except for Africa and Australia is oblitterated by nukes. Those two continents are later devastated when the winds drifts the radiation there too. The final scene is actually a map of the world with white dots popping up where there was a hit. Is there ANYTHING at all worthy of the entire planet going to hell?
I think this unexpected ending of that campaign had an even stronger effect on me because later that day I saw the newest report on the situation at Fukushima that is still not under control and to make it worse plans are in work on building another powerplant right on a coast in a highly seismic area and in danger of tsunamis, this time in India.
There are three versions of this fic.
SUMMARY: "There'll be no learning period with nuclear weapons. Make one mistake and you're
going to destroy nations."
-Robert McNamara
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"In the end, it was luck. We were *this* close to nuclear war, and luck
prevented it."
-Robert McNamara
"You absolutely sure?... Okay... Thanks for telling me, Tom, I appreciate it. It was nice knowing you too. Hopefully whoever comes after us will be smarter than we were."
Stunned, Admiral AJ Chegwidden put the handset back into the cradle and just sat there, staring sightlessly into thin air. Rubbing a hand over his he looked down to see it trembling.
Squeezing it into a fist he let out a shuddering breath and rose, walking like a zombie to his office door, then out into the bullpen.
Looking around at the busy staff he took a couple of seconds to gather himself, before calling to attention.
Everyone immediately responded, letting Chegwidden look from one earnest face to another, heartbreak settling heavily on his heart. Finally he spoke, the feedback of the PA system making everyone cringe and pay attention, as he heard his voice echo through the entire building.
"Attention, this is Admiral AJ Chegwidden, the Judge Advocate General, speaking. What I'm about to say is no drill and no joke, unfortunately it's deadly serious. I was just on the phone with General Wilburt, NORAD's CO. I'm sure you all are aware of the conflict in the small ex-Soviet country of Chernarus, right?"
The sea of nodding heads prompted him to go on as elsewhere in the building people just stared at the speakers mounted on walls.
"For those who are not up-to-date: the US forces have pulled out of the country under orders of the UN, who allowed the Russian Federation to take over because the attack on Red Square that killed hundreds of Russian civilians, for which every finger pointed at the NAPA armed group. Several hours ago, our forces, due to reports of Russian cooperation with the local insurgents, the Chedaki, and violence against the civilian population, launched a full-scale assault on Russian and Chedaki positions. 10 minutes ago, the situation escalated out of control and the Russians dropped thermo-nuclear devices on Chernarus and our fleet supporting the invasion."
Faces around him paled and people started whispering, but Chegwidden quickly brought them to order.
"That's not the worst, the worst is yet to come. According to our policy that goes back to the 1960's, the US have launched a full retaliatory nuclear response upon the Russian Federation and China, who responded in kind. The rest of the world will probably soon follow, if for nothing else than to spare their inhabitants the suffering when the radiation clouds hit their countries."
Gasps of horror could be heard, as well as sobs and even some thuds as members of the staff fainted in the face of the news. If they managed to stay unconscious they would be the lucky ones, dying in their sleep and not having to go through the nuclear holocaust.
"Right this moment over a hundred nuclear-tipped missiles are in the air, the first are expected to hit DC in about 25 minutes. In 24 hours, most of the life on this planet will be erradicated forever. Australia will likely be spared from the initial onslaught until the winds change and bring them the radiactive clouds. Whoever will be able to weather the destruction safe in a nuclear vault, no matter if it's NORAD or a private shelter, will likely just prolong their own suffering and die when the food, air or water runs out."
He let that sink in, before finishing with a deep, sorrowful voice "The last thing I wanted to say is that it has been an honor and a privilege serving with you all and that I deeply regret that our profession has killed this planet. May God have mercy on our souls."
Turning around he walked back into his office, hoping he'd get Francesca on the phone before the time was up.
His devastated staff continued to stand there for a minute, stupefied, unable to comprehend what was happening, the reality of their situation too horrifying.
One by one they broke up, each going their own direction, most of them heading for their phones to call their loved ones and say goodbye.
The ones lucky enough to work in the same building or even bullpen as the objects of their affection headed off, choosing to die in the best way possible. Some of them had their hearts broken in those last few minutes of their lives, while others quickly filled empty rooms with the sounds of lovemaking and bittersweet pleasure.
Some prayed, seeking comfort in their fate. Many wanted to see the end drunk, but unfortunately JAG was as dry as a stone.
Many chose to end things quickly, instead of waiting for the bombs to fall.
Most of the staff sought comfort in heartbroken embraces of their friends and coworkers, holding onto each other as they cried together, rocking brokenly.
None of them left for home, however, because they knew they'd never get there, there just wasn't enough time.
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Harm, too shocked to feel anything, turned and re-entered his office with a slow, heavy step, ignoring everyone else. Numb, he picked up his cell-phone and pressed speed dial #1, sighing when it went immediately to voice-mail. Perhaps it was better this way, at least he wouldn't have to explain.
"Mom, you'll probably never get this, but I just wanted to say I love you and Frank and thanks for being my parents..."
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The child was standing on top of the ramp, holding onto the hand-rail as he was smiling at the camera. The boy's parents were standing below, the tall man's wrapped around his wife as they all posed in front of his fighter, the poster picture of a model Navy family.
Blind to everything else, deep into his thoughts and memories, Harm stared at the photo in his hands, the souvenir of times when life was still good, when the world hadn't gone to hell yet.
Through the window behind him a tall mushroom cloud rose into the air, announcing the end of the world. Screams of horror could be heard even through the closed window, even over the roar of the explosion, but Harm ignored everything as he concentrated on that last memory of his family.
In his last nano-second of life he could feel a seering heat before several thousand 'F burned his body to a crisp, mixing his ashes with the remains of JAG HQ.
Mixing his ashes with the ashes of life on Earth.
THE END
[after the nuclear war] the living will envy the dead.
Nikita Sergeyevich Khrushchev (1894–1971)