THE DAY: A Novel of America in the Last Days (The End of America Series) (11 page)

THE
MALL

WASHINGTON,
DC

              
Abdul
Azim
Mahaz
drove his carpet
store labeled cargo van east on Independence Avenue near its intersection with
1st Street. Abdul had been driving a circuitous route north on 1st Street,
which runs between the U.S. Capitol and the Supreme Court, west on Constitution
Avenue, then south on 14
^th
Street, back to Independence Avenue.
Abdul earlier mapped out the route so that his van would be as close as
possible to the Capitol and to the Court at 1 PM.

              
Abdul’s
brother,
Yaqubi
, drove his automobile glass repair
labeled van on a route just south of the White House. His route along 14
^th
Street, Constitution Avenue, 17
^th
Street and Independence Avenue
circled the Washington Monument.

              
Abdul
was concerned that his wife, Naveen, who was driving the third van, bearing the
name and logo of a non-existent house remodeling company, might not do well
trying to follow a prescribed route. Instead, she was to drive the length of
the mall from the U.S. Capitol to the Lincoln Monument. Abdul told Naveen not to
be concerned where her van was located as the hour came.

              
12:53
PM (EST) – Abdul stopped at the red light at 27
^th
Street and
Independence Avenue. He was sweating profusely, though the temperature both
inside and outside of his van was moderate. He knew he would soon be vaporized,
along with hundreds of thousands of others. He wasn’t concerned about the
people he saw walking along Independence
Avenue,
they
were after all, all heretics, part of the Great Satan. He wiped his brow,
drumming his fingers on the steering wheel of the van.
Reciting
his prayers.
‘Allah
Hoo
Akbar.
Subhaana
Rabbiyal
Azeem
.
Looking at his watch.
Looking again.
He was still about a mile from 1
^st
Street and Capitol Hill. ‘When would this light change’, he asked
no one.

              
12:54
PM –
Yaqubi
turned north on 15
^th
Street. He could see the Washington Monument to his left and the Ellipse across
Constitution Avenue. Having driven his route now several times he knew that he
would most likely be just south of the White House very close to 1 PM. He smiled,
thinking of the waiting virgins who would greet him soon as a hero of Islam.

              
12:55
PM – Naveen was not smiling. Women in Islam are not promised sexual
adventures in paradise. She knew that she would soon be no more. Her children,
she had repeatedly been told, would call her blessed for her efforts to strike
America. Naveen was committed to her assigned role of killing Americans, but in
her deepest core she had a level of doubt. If Islam is the only true faith, she
asked herself, then why do we have to kill the infidels? Why not just let them
discover how marvelous are the five pillars of Islam,
Shahadah
,
Salat
, Sawn, Zakat and Hajj?
Without
killing them?
But, she shook it off, turned left on 17
^th
Street,
then
looked down the length of the reflecting
pool at the Lincoln Memorial. She pulled over to the curb and parked, keeping
her gaze on the large Presidential marble statue surrounded by Greek columns.

              
12:58
PM – Abdul looked at his watch as he pulled up to the curb on 1st Street
on Capitol Hill. He put his van in park, exited the van and rolled out his
prayer rug on the grass next to sidewalk. He knew that it was too late for a
law enforcement officer who might see this unusual scene to stop and do
anything.
Allah
Hoo
Akbar, Allah
Hoo
Akbar.

              
12:59
PM –
Yaqubi
looked to his right as he came to
the South Lawn of the White House. He noticed that a section of the metal fence
appeared to be newly installed. Rumors of a coup de’
etat
attempt the prior year had been rampant in the world outside of the U.S. As he
pulled his right two tires up on the narrow grass strip in front of the fence,
his last thought was whether or not the new fence was where the trucks had
breached White House security.

              
1:00
PM – Captain Roger Rice’s US Airways Flight 127 had just been
cleared by his FAA controller to land on main runway 61 at Reagan International
Airport. He banked slightly left, flattened out and began his descent. Captain
Rice first saw an enormous flash of white hot light straight ahead of his
plane, behind the U.S. Capitol’s white dome. As he was processing what he
had just seen, the pilot immediately saw two other immensely bright fireballs
flash further down the Mall near the Washington Monument and the Lincoln
Memorial. Within five seconds the shock waves coming from the nearly
simultaneous blasts tore the Captain’s US Airways Airlines 737 into
multiple pieces, bursting it into flames from the immediate heat and fire that
followed the shock waves. Flight 127 was no more.

              
Had
the Captain been alive to see it, he would have witnessed the instant
vaporization of Reagan Airport’s terminals, parking garages and support
buildings. The three nuclear devices totally destroyed and leveled to the
ground every structure from the airport and the Pentagon on the south, up past
DuPont Circle more than a mile north of the White House, from the Marine Corps
Memorial in Virginia to the west and twenty blocks east of Capitol Hill. Gone
were the limestone temples of the U.S. Congress, the U.S. Supreme Court and the
White House. The Jihadists’ nuclear weapons were equal opportunity
destroyers, taking out the executive, legislative and judicial branches of the
American federal government. The head of the executive branch, though, at the
time of the detonations was safely in Air Force One on his way to a fund raiser
in California.

Air
Force One –

Over
the Arizona – California State Line

              
The
world’s most famous airplane was at 43,000 feet preparatory to making its
final vector approach to Los Angeles, now less than forty-five minutes away.
The President had showered, shaved and dressed on the plane for the noon
luncheon fund raiser in downtown Los Angeles. The time in Washington DC, which
the President always maintained on his Rolex, was 12:56 PM.

              
In
spite of the President’s insistence, the Pentagon had not been able to
explain to the President what had been happening in Israel. They had video.
They had on the ground reports. What they didn’t have was any clue as to
what weapon system was being used to fire on the foreign troops invading
Israel, nor who used the weapons. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff had
just informed the President on an encrypted call to Air Force One that the
military was still working on solving the weapons mystery. He was able to
report that the weapon systems, whatever they were, combined with the deluge of
rain and a devastating earthquake, had decimated the invading troops.
Preliminary body counts of dead invading troops, he said, could be in the
hundreds of thousands. The remaining troops, the Chairman told the President,
were being tracked by satellite imaging heading back north and east, out of
Israel.

              
The
President was slouched in his executive leather chair, gazing out the window at
the barren areas below in Southern California. What in the world happened? He
couldn’t call Vladimir. Not right now. Not after he may have lost most of
his front line troops. He knew, of course, that his friend Vladimir was going
to invade Israel. Vladimir didn’t ask him for permission. The President
had simply let Vladimir know that the U.S. wouldn’t get involved in what
the two decided in advance to call a regional controversy. But, what the
President was worried about now was simple. Would Vladimir think that the US
had somehow developed and kept secret this fireball weapon? Would he think the
U.S. attacked his troops? Would he lash back at the U.S.? It wouldn’t be
seemly, he concluded, to call Vladimir and deny knowledge of the fiery weapons.
That could just fuel his suspicions and move him to conclude that the U.S. had
attacked Russia and her allies.

              
The
President again looked at his watch. It was 12:59 in DC. What to do? Call
Vladimir? Don’t call Vlad……
"WHAT WAS THAT?"
he shouted as a flash of white hot
light filled the office cabin of Air Force One. He grabbed the phone next to
his leather chair connected with the pilot.
"What
was that?
That
huge
flash….the
light
….what…."

              
"Mister
President," the pilot replied, "this is
not good
. We ‘re a hundred miles out, but….it sure
looks like a nuke just lit up….flash and cloud over LA….
oh, oh
….
oh….
Here comes the shock wave….
belt in….belt in
….We’re going to take a hit
and….". The pilot didn’t finish as he fought to control his
pitching and yawing aircraft. The shock wave pushed the nose of the plane
sharply up, then the plane pitched to the right, followed by a slow dive
towards the ground.

              
The
President wrestled with his seat belt, finally getting it secured and grabbed
the wide arms on his chair. His eyes wide, adrenalin pumping, he struggled to
look out his window to see if he could make out what the pilot had just
described. As the massive modified 747 began to level out, now down to
under
20,000 feet, the President could see a distinctive
shape on the horizon, a growing mushroom cloud. He again called the pilot,
"Where….
where
….are
we heading
now
?"

              
"Mister
President, thank your lucky stars that we were twelve minutes delayed due to
head winds. Otherwise we would have been close enough that the shock wave that
just threw us around would have knocked us out of the sky….That cloud and
the shock wave could
only
come from a
nuke
….sorry to say,
sir…..To answer your question, sir, we’ have few options.
San Diego’s out, too much chance of radiation blowing south
out of LA.
Same problem with San Bernardino.
Looks like Phoenix, maybe an Air Force base. We’re pulling choices, now.
It will take us about. W
hoa
….wait
a minute. Mister President….You’ll want to have Jeff get your
monitors up. I just heard an FAA controller say that there appears to have been
another nuke….so not limited to just LA....repeat….repeat
sir….
another
nuke.
Appears to be
Las Vegas
,
sir."

              
The
President couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move, as he felt locked into
place. All he could do was stare out his window at the mushroom cloud over Los
Angeles. What had caused this disaster? Why didn’t we have a warning?
Why? Why? A sliver of thought crossed his mind. Did I blow it by refusing to
come to the assistance of Israel? Surely not, he thought, as he immediately
discarded the thought. What he hated most was the thin possibility that the
religious pests, whom he referred to as ‘Bible thumpers’, who had
warned him that these things would happen, may have been correct.

Hannah
and Gary’s Family Room

Birmingham,
Alabama

              
The
sun over Birmingham had been up for three hours. Six adults who were nervously
sipping coffee, visibly on edge, looked over at the television frequently to
see if anything had yet happened. The children appeared to be happy, playing in
the back yard or on
their
i
-pads,
as their parents had kept them out of school for the day.

              
Gary
toggled back and forth between CBS and Fox on the theory that anything that
would happen of a catastrophic nature would either be reported on one of the
networks, or alternatively, that one or both would go off the air.

              
Beau,
Gary and Scott were talking quietly around the television while Audrey, Hannah
and Sally were busying themselves in the kitchen, preparing sandwiches for
lunch later in the day.

              
Gary
glanced up at the clock on the family room wall. It was just now 1 PM. Gary
suggested, "If we don’t hear anything by four or so this afternoon,
then maybe we should….
oops
….look….CBS
just went to black screen….let’s see what Fox is doing." Gary
pushed the button on his remote control. "
Oh oh
….nothing but snow….
no
signal. How could
both
go off at the
same
time,
unless…."

              
Beau
choked and said, "
Unless
….New
York City just got hit. Both CBS and Fox are in New York. Go to channel
13….WVTM….it’s an affiliate with NBC, but it’s all
local for Birmingham news. Let’s see what, if anything, they’re
reporting on New York."

              
Gary
changed the channel to the local channel. A soap opera was playing. Scott
exclaimed, "Look at that. They are
barely
dressed. Good grief. I haven’t watched daytime TV for years.
Many years.
I didn’t know you could show on over the
airwaves television what that couple is doing."

              
"Beau
replied, "Scott, the FCC took away the final barriers a couple years ago.
The networks argued that cable could air indecent shows, so why not allow the
networks to do so. It’s just further evidence of the status of America of
the Mother of Abominations….Now,
come
on
….he’s removing her…."

              
The
television screen switched to a screen saying CHANNEL 13 EMERGENCY NEWS ALERT.
The screen stayed up, with no sound. Gary yelled into the kitchen, "
Hannah
, you guys better come over here
and
watch
this."

              
Audrey,
upon seeing the news alert on the screen said, "Oh….
no
….
no
….oh,
please
Lord
help
us
."

              
Eventually
the silence on the television screen was broken as the news alert screen was
removed. The screen showed the station’s well-watched news broadcaster
looking down to adjust his lapel mike, then glancing up to see that the red
light on camera one was on, confirming that he was being broadcast live.

              
"UH….
We’ve
….uh….interrupted our regular
programming in order to…." WVTM’s leading newscaster stopped
speaking as he pushed his hand up to his right ear, leaning into his ear bud,
concentrating on what he was hearing from the station’s control room, and
not addressing his TV audience. The newscaster appeared to be speaking to his
control room, saying, "Are you
sure
?....I
can
go
with that?....OK….
Umh
….Sorry….As I said, we’ve interrupted
our regular programming to bring you
breaking
news
….
Umh
….We are being informed by
foreign
news sources, because our normal
wire services are not currently functioning, that there have been….
multiple detonations
of what appear to
be
nuclear
weapons….in….America
. Reuters is just now carrying an emergency
news feed reporting that Washington DC and New York City have experienced
nuclear weapon detonations. Let me
repeat
that….
international news services
are reporting that at least two American cities, Washington DC and New York
City, appear to have been hit by nuclear explosions."

              
All
six people in Hannah and Gary’s family room were in tears. Two were down
on their knees praying. Scott was on his cell phone alerting the other small
group letters who may not have yet heard the news.

              
The
WVTM newscaster was again silent, pressing his ear bud, then he continued,
"
Oh my
….I regret to
announce that the BBC is reporting that satellites over the US appear to have
detected as many as
eight
, one source
says as many as possibly
twelve
,
separate
nuclear explosions
at almost
exactly
the same time
, across
America. The nearest nuclear weapon detonation to the Birmingham area appears
to be in
Atlanta
, I am
very sorry
to report. Viewers in our
most
eastern
Birmingham viewing area
are calling to tell us that they are seeing what appears to be a mushroom cloud
on the far horizon, in the approximate location of Atlanta….As we learn
more from either US sources or from foreign news services….we
will….we will certainly inform you. Unfortunately, we can’t switch
you to our normal network coverage out of New York,
or….or….apparently any other major city from which we would
normally get news coverage. Until we can get
more
news, our program director tells me we will return to our
regular pre-recorded programming." The screen changed to two actors in
the act of an intimate relationship.

              
Gary
snapped off the television, saying, "Folks, that may be
the last
television any of us may ever
see….
It’s
time to go
….Get the kids. I heard
your calls, Scott, to some of the small group guys. Are they heading to the
school
?....
Let’s load up our cars and get over
to the school….
before we
can’t
."