Chapter XLIV: Operation TAKE HOLD, Part III
1840hrs, 16 December 2013, Somewhere over Virginia, in Air Force One, United States.
"Believe in your own justice." President Michael Wilson, Metal Wolf Chaos
The president was safe and secure in the VC-25 that was flying in the sky over Virginia, escorted by a flight of two F-15Cs. The ride out of D.C and the trip to Andrews though, had been more than harrowing however.
"How many people did we lose at the Capitol building?" she said, placing her hands on her face. POTUS was still a shook up over the explosion that had taken place at the White House. She was sitting at a desk, getting ready for the speech to the nation. Around her, were several important members of her staff, some three star generals and of course, the Secret Service. And right outside the office, a military officer carried the football. The handcuffs were still stained with blood from the previous owner, who had given his life to protect the nuclear arsenal of the United States.
The COS looked at a barrage of emails and texts on his iPad and started giving the President some numbers.
"We cannot confirm any precise numbers at the time, but we know for certain that almost all of the Joint Chiefs were killed off, several senators, a good chunk of the house, two Supreme Court justices, and several foreign dignitaries."
"Goddammit, I knew we shouldn't have hired that security company, they didn't do a fucking thing!" the President's outburst increased the tension in the air. "And with that Nakanishi Group in charge of everything…"
"Madame President, we should not be rash in judging, no one saw this coming," COS said to her.
"Where is the VP?"
"He's in Mount Weather, as per the Continuity of Government plan," he said to her, his fingers moving over the screen a mile a minute. "But if what these girls say is true…"
"…then he's a traitor. Keep him under watch and don't let him leave there, whatever the cost."
"Understood."
"Where are these…SAILOR people now?"
"Last sighting of them, was…" he tapped more buttons. "They were by the Capitol building, trying to get people out of there."
"Alright." She knew that those two could take care of themselves. The COS continued on with his briefing.
"Ma'am, I'm getting reports of major attacks on military bases all across the nation," the COS said. "The following bases have been attacked and their status. Wright-Patterson AFB, major damage to infrastructure there, Travis AFB, heavy damage and casualties, MCB Quantico, light damage, Joint Base Hickam, minor damage…"
"What about the nuclear bases?" POTUS interrupted.
"They're all secure…"
"Are you sure?" she glared at him. "Because they obviously aren't, since they managed to get two warheads out into the open and attempted to detonate them."
"I'll double check." Jorge got right on that, sending out a flurry of emails to various military contacts.
"Good." Hamilton took a deep breath before continuing on with the briefing. She really didn't want to continue on with the bad news, but this was the price of being the President.
"Where is the Defense Secretary?" POTUS asked COS.
"He's on a foreign trip to Canada and was supposed to get back today, but he's still in the air with an escort."
"Get him on the video link."
"Got it."
Within a minute, a screen had been rolled down and the president was speaking directly to the Secretary of Defense, who was flying over Vancouver at the moment.
"Secretary Freidman," the President said to him, trying to remain calm in the obviously deteriorating situation. "You must know by now about the terrorist attacks on our nation."
"I have heard about the situation," SecDef told her. He wasn't much the speaking type, but now they needed to formulate a plan of action.
"Where are the JCS?"
"Most of them are dead," the President told him, wearily. "They were shot down in their own homes or on the bases…" She looked up to see Ramirez show her his tablet computer. It read "Update, 36 out of the 38 four stars are MIA or status unknown. Presume to be KIA."
"Shit, did you hear about this?" she asked SecDef. "How the f…how did this happen?" COS tapped on more buttons and shrugged. "I'll get back to you on that," was the nonverbal response.
"What about?"
"We just lost almost all of our four stars. There's one left in the south somewhere, and he's in charge of some training program for the Air Force. The other one is General Oliver Martin, and he's in charge of CYBERCOM."
"So almost every four star General in the United States military is dead?" Friedman asked the president, tapping his pen nervously on his desk. "Goddamn."
"What suggestions do you have?"
"We need to establish a temporary JCS until we can get this entire thing settled. Who can you give me that can fulfill these positions?"
"I'm going to suggest that we give the remaining Air Force four star the acting Vice Chair, and General Oliver Martin the new Chairmanship of the JCS. Aren't we supposed to ask Congress about this though?" Friedman was well versed on constitutional issues, being an extremely smart lawyer and all; it was also rumored that he had a degree in theoretical physics, but that could not be confirmed at the moment.
"SecDef, most of Congress is dead or out of commission at the moment, as is most of the Judicial branch. I think I won't be judged to harshly for my actions."
"They still will, you know."
"Thank you for that reminder, Secretary," the President hissed. "Get whatever you need, but I need a new JCS ASAP so we can hit back at Nakanishi."
"Understood, Madame President." The video link cut out, and the President leaned back in her chair, exhausted.
"Ma'am we're getting preliminary causality reports from across the country," Jorge said to her. He didn't even allow her a moment's worth of rest.
The President sighed, but this was the cost of running a nation, especially in times of crisis. "Go ahead."
"We've lost 10,000 KIA in military personnel across the globe," the COS announced, with no emotion in his voice. "Another 10,000 are wounded or missing."
"What about civilians?"
"Again, these are all preliminary, but maybe 20,000 people have been killed or wounded." POTUS breathed out on that one; she thought the COS was going to say "Dead." It could have easily been one dead, and 19,999 wounded, but she knew that wasn't the case.
"That's about ten times the September 11 attacks," she sighed. "Fuck."
She looked around the desk again. POTUS hoped that the Resolute desk in the Oval Office was okay. She thought about that again, and laughed at that. Here she was, in the midst of the worst terrorist attack ever to happen, and she was thinking about furniture.
"Madame President?" COS asked her quizzically.
"I'm sorry Jorge," she replied. "Just some stupid thoughts. Get me in contact with the SAILOR team."
"Right away."
"Madame President," Amy said over her radio. She and Mina were still in the SUV from the Orange, VA engagement. "Let's put the siren and lights on!" Mina excitedly said upon finding out that they indeed, had a yelper and lights, much to Amy's irritation. But in a time of crisis, she would have done so anyway driving through the fierce battle raging in Washington D.C. against the Nakanishi PMC.
"Amy, what's the situation?"
Amy dodged several cars in the road, their owners had long fled when the fighting had began.
"Goddammit Amy!" Mina screamed. "Look out!" Two Nakanishi Hummers pulled up by the SUVs and gave chase.
"Mina, get on the fucking minigun!" Amy screamed back. This was not the time for pleasantries. "Madame President, I'm going to have to get back to you on that!" she tossed the radio on the seat beside her.
Mina scrambled back there, trying to remember how she had used this infernal thing earlier that day…or was it a couple of minutes ago? It truly had been a long day, and they were both running on less than a couple hours of sleep from the last three days or so.
"I'm trying, I'm trying!" she replied back, frantically.
"Try harder!" Amy dodged some more cars that were on fire.
Mina sat on the gunner's seat, and found the switch to power on the minigun. Immediately, it started to spur up, giving an ominous whir as the barrels twirled around.
Amy looked back at the gun, hoping that Mina didn't kill them all with that thing.
But she managed to get it all ready. Mina took a deep breath, and hit the switch that popped the gun out of the roof of the SUV.
"Won't you people just give up!" For the second time today, she had to kill some more Nakanishi Mercs. At least it was with the Minigun.
In a second, Mina was out in the cold air, looking around for targets; the first Hummer was right next to them on the right side, while the other one was trailing slightly behind them on the left, about fifty feet to be precise.
She saw the Hummer on the right start to cut Amy off, and some of the windows rolled down, their occupants brandishing FN SCAR rifles. Taking a deep breath in, feeling the cool air rush into her lungs, Mina pressed the button that would fire the weapon.
Three seconds later, the bullet riddled Hummer crashed into a storefront, completely shattering windowpane.
Mina quickly swung the Minigun around to her six o'clock, only to find that the second Hummer was now weaving left and right rapidly, throwing off her aim. She fired a couple more bursts, but missed or only managed a couple of hits. The occupants of the massive SUV obliged, leaning out of their windows to fire their SCAR rifles. Several bursts zipped by before a single bullet grazed Mina, drawing blood from her left shoulder and causing her to cry out in pain.
"Fuck!" she held her shoulder, but the pain made her focus more. She used the HUD to lead the target, and concreted fire with a long burst from the Minigun. This time, the windscreen of the Hummer was shattered by the volley of fire, and it too crashed.
"Mina, you okay up there?!" Amy yelled out, trying to avoid more burning cars.
"I'm hit!" she screamed back. Mina ducked back down into the SUV so that Amy could treat her.
Amy pulled the car over, making sure that there were no more Nakanishi vehicles pursuing them.
"Here, let me see that." She pulled out a first aid kit from the front and took a look at Mina's shoulder. It was a long gash, but there was no penetration by the bullet, just a lot of blood and some pain.
"Putting your residency in?" Mina joked, then winced in pain as Amy put some peroxide to clean the wound.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that." While rifling through the first aid kit, she found the small, one use tube of gel that she had seen earlier. It read; "HEALING SOLUTION, Mk I."
"Great…" Amy said. "They're selling this shit now."
"What is it?"
Amy held up the tube to Mina so that she could see it.
"Hmm." She saw the price on the side of the tube; "12,000 USD". Ouch.
Amy opened the tube up and placed the solution on Mina's wound. Within seconds, the gash was completely healed, with no scarring or anything. A white ooze now dripped down Mina's shoulder, and Amy quickly wiped it up with some gauze.
"That could seriously be misinterpreted," Mina said, looking on.
"Shut up," Amy rolled her eyes and finished cleaning up.
"Thanks."
"Not a problem." Amy put the first aid kit away. "Let's finish up here and go after the main baddie?"
"Right on," Mina said, with a smile.
Amy crawled back into the driver's seat and continued her route toward Crofton, out of the city and toward Highway 50.
"Madame President," Amy said, finally getting back on the radio. "I'm sorry about that, we were ambushed."
"That's quite alright," POTUS replied, calmly. She shuffled some more papers and looked up to see the TV cameras being rolled in. "You'll have to make this quick, I have a speech to give."
"Understood." Amy swerved to avoid some police cars screaming down a street, presumably going toward the Capitol building. "We have the location of the PMC leader, and we are on the way to apprehend him."
"I understand…"
"Madame President," Amy continued. "I highly advise to check all equipment; since Nakanishi is a tech company, any of their equipment could be used to monitor communications and track your location."
The President forgot about that. They had gotten so used to what Nakanishi gave them that they paid no attention; now in their time of need, their technological solution was completely against them.
"Thank you for bringing that up," POTUS said to Amy. She paused for a second, consolidating her thoughts before continuing on. "In addition, I know that you've been operating illegally in our country, but for good reason. I am authorizing full use of US military installations and materiel, and that you be granted access to these facilities. You obviously have a better hold of this situation than we do, and in the next couple of weeks, we will be completely tied up in trying to get everything fixed on our end." POTUS checked her watch, and realized that her speech time was approaching.
"I must be going now, I have to give this speech. I trust that you understand the power I am giving you. My only condition is that you keep me personally informed of your operations…and don't worry; you're secret is safe with me. I will have to divulge your secret to my military advisors, but other than that…" She trailed off, making her point known.
"Understood, Madame President," Amy replied. She wanted to say something else, but this was no time for small talk. "Out."
With that, Amy cut off the transmission and accelerated toward the highway.
The President sighed. She looked at the television cameras in the office, ready to broadcast over satellites and to the major TV networks, over the Internet, over the radio.
"Ready?" one of the producers said, nervously. They had just lost a lot of people down there, and the office of the President had press-ganged anybody who knew how to use a camera to help with the broadcast.
POTUS nodded, and the producer counted down. Three…two…one.
"Good Evening, my fellow Americans. As you know, our nation is currently under attack by well-armed and organized terrorists who threaten our very existence and our way of life. I have the military on full alert (read, as possible when most of the leadership was dead), and I have all the law enforcement agencies assisting in dealing with the threat. The Department of Homeland Security is setting up command and control stations and has engaged in damage control operations. I know most of you are terrified by these recent events; I am as well."
Jorge and the producer looked at the President. That most definitely wasn't in the speech, but she was the President; she could take it in any direction she wanted.
"Not just an hour ago, there was an assassination attempt on my life by the Nakanishi Group, the perpetrators of this terrorist attack. In addition, they attacked Congress, and many of our top leaders are dead at the moment. I have credible information that points to them behind these events of today. However, this is not the work of the normal everyday employee of Nakanishi; do not take retaliatory action against people you know that have affiliations with this group. We will find the perpetrators and justice will be upheld in this nation. Please stay indoors and observe instructions from local authorities concerning the situation in your area. I know that this nation can pull it through, and even in this time of our darkest hour, we can still show the world that we will prevail in the face of adversity. Good night, and God Bless America."
The cameras and lights turned off. That was it. A simple, two minute speech to get it all out there. Hamilton relaxed slightly, blinking away the harsh stage lights, but she was very aware of what she had done.
The United States was at war with the Nakanishi Group.
"Madame President, what are your orders?" The COS was standing nearby, of course, and was waiting for her instructions on what to do next. Normally, it would be the other way around, but all the meetings, all the meet and greets, all the fancy dinners…they had been quite literally, blown out of the water. There was but one item on the agenda. Survive.
"Where exactly are we headed?"
"To Colorado Springs, the Cheyenne Mountain complex. We modified the crisis plan so that you would be taken there in times of a crisis, and now, well, now more than ever, seems like a good plan.
"What about my family?" There had been almost no time to think about that; the priority lay squarely on ensuring the safety and protection of POTUS. But now that they had gotten through all of that, they could finally focus on the safety of the First Family.
"Your…hold on, Madame President." COS picked up a phone nearby and dialed for the secure location that the First Gentleman was being held.
Agent Greyson had only been transferred from the Vice Presidential detail a week earlier, after he was finally deemed too much of a hassle when it came to that infernal Nakanishi Group. Now here he was, protecting (along with a dozen or other so more agents), in a safehouse somewhere in countryside. The First Gentleman was slouched on the sofa, glass of whisky in hand, while the two daughters where huddled nervously in the corner, tapping away on their computers and whispering in soft tones, trying to make themselves not heard to the agents nearby. The phone on a lightstand suddenly ran, startling everyone. Greyson went over and answered it.
"Agent Greyson speaking. Who is this?"
"This is the Chief of Staff for POTUS."
"Challenge word, Picasso."
"Rembrandt."
Greyson sighed. It really was the COS. "What can I do for you, sir?"
"Is the First Gentleman and children safe?"
Greyson took a look at the First Family, who were still in somewhat of a shock. The girls were in their last week of school before the winter break, and the First Gentleman had been out on charity work when the call came in to evacuate them. Violently, they had been swept up from their afterschool activities and places of work, and shoved into waiting SUVs, driven to helicopters, and flown to the safehouse. To say that it was a traumatizing experience was an understatement.
"Yes sir, SANGUINE is safe at the secure location."
"Can POTUS speak to them at least?" the COS asked, politely.
"Sir…"
"Agent, please," was the response to his hesitation.
There was an audible sigh, but the Agent on the other line couldn't say no. He handed the phone over to Mr. Hamilton, and a gruff voice answered the phone.
"Hello? Hello?!"
"Mr. Hamilton," the COS said.
"It's Dr. Hamilton," was the angry response. Maybe the Secret Service guys shouldn't have let him have some of that whisky. Then again, it wasn't hard to see why anyone wouldn't want a drink after today.
Jorge rolled his eyes; even in a crisis, the First Gentleman was kind of a prick. Never mind that his wife almost just got shot, he was going to go on and on about what honorific he was to be called. I got my fucking degree from Johns Hopkins, blah blah blah. Yeah, that was nice and all, but you're still subservient to the President. Tough luck.
"Dr. Hamilton, your wife wishes to speak to you."
"About fucking time. You know how long I've been trying to get these idiots to call you?"
"No sir."
"Two hours! Ever since this emergency began, we've…"
"Sir, your wife." The COS immediately handed the phone over to POTUS, who rolled her eyes and thanked the COS for putting up with her idiot of a husband.
"Jack, how are you doing?" she calmly asked, glad to hear his voice after a day of immense stress and violence.
"I'm just fine, thanks to the goons that are protecting me."
"Don't give them a hard time, okay? And plus, you didn't get shot at today."
That seemed to calm him down a little bit anyway, knowing that he was in a much better position than she was.
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
She paused for a second, then continued on. "How are the kids?"
Jack looked to his daughters, who were now standing up from their computers, having guessed who was on the other line.
"Jamie is a bit shaken up, but Emma seems to be holding it together. It's been a rough day for them as well."
"I can imagine. Can you put them on?"
"Yeah."
He motioned to the two daughters, and they leapt over to the phone. They crowded around the receiver, happy to speak to their esteemed mother.
"Mom!"
"Hey Jamie, Emma. How are you holding up?"
"We're doing fine, mom," Emma said to POTUS. She was the older one, with strawberry blonde hair, with a bit of a stomach (but was just fine in her eyes) aged fifteen years old. She was studious, introverted, and preferred books to boys; she was a good piano player and an even better fencer, hence the callsign "SABRE". "It was disconcerting when they came and took us away. I hope everyone is alright back at school."
"I'm sure that they are," POTUS lied. She had seen from some reports that a bomb had gone off in that area not an hour after they had left, killing five and wounding twenty more. More than likely, it was directed at them, if not for the quick thinking of the Secret Service.
"Mommy?" Jamie, aged twelve, with slightly darker hair than her sister. She was more energetic and emotional than her sister; among her recent escapades was her trying to get a boyfriend and failing spectacularly at that. All attempts (so far) to sneak out at night were thwarted by the Secret Service to humorous effect. She certainly lived up to her callsign, SPEEDY. Her voice trembled as she spoke into the phone, her sister resting her hand on her shoulder to comfort her. "Mommy, I was really scared today."
"It's going to be alright," POTUS assured her. "I'm going to get this entire thing sorted out."
"Do you know when we're going to be able to speak to you again?"
"No, I don't. Sorry. Okay sweeties, I have to get back to work. Be good to your father for me, okay?"
"Yes mom!" The two of them handed the receiver back Dr. Hamilton.
"Hey Hon, I have to go. Talk to you later and try not to overdo it on the whisky, okay?"
Damn, she could probably smell me through the phone, he cursed to himself. "Alright then. You take okay? Get these bastards who did this us."
"I will. I will."
With that, she hung up the phone and nodded to COS. They got back to work immediately.