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Deep in the Republic of Bashkortostan, Russia
In a conference room that is both lavish and Spartan, the senior members of the Russian government sit at a large round table. The Russian President listens intently as the last two days’ worth of compiled analyses are laid out before him. The situation is grim and the solution—if it can even be called that—is grimmer.
The country is in shambles, the cities burning and the countryside flooded with refugees seeking shelter and food they will not find. Modern and old computer systems alike are suffering at the hand of the mysterious virus that has torn across the globe. The twin spy satellites operated by Mezhgorye pass over the country, watching the migration and destruction of the population as the military fails to contain riots and uprisings.
People already half-starved from years of a downward spiraling economy have nothing left to lose and throw their lives away for the chance that their children might get a morsel of food. Vast curtains of smoke drift across the cities from the burning chemical fires, killing thousands and mortally injuring tens of thousands more.
There is no hope left. No way of countering the assault from every direction. The military has started to fracture, splintering into groups based on regional assignment and what resources are stockpiled in which regions. It will be another week at most before territorial wars break out and the country is consumed by infighting.
“You bel
ieve the command and control center is in NORAD?” The Russian president speaks softly, his narrowed eyes flicking around the table as he listens to the response.
“It is either there or in the capitol.”
“You understand the repercussions we will suffer from taking such an action, yes?”
“If we do not take some sort of action then the repercussions will be far more damaging.”
The Russian president rubs his eyes and wearily sighs. “What new analysis supports this type of an escalation?”
“The analysis we performed yesterday shows—”
“New. Analysis.” The President’s tone reflects a hint of the frustration he feels. “Not yesterday’s analysis. New analysis.”
The man who answered the President sits back in his chair, looking as though he wishes he could burrow straight through the chair and wall to escape. “It is difficult to perform new analysis, sir. Every system that we attempt to use to analyze the virus becomes, itself, infected and—”
“If we drop an ICBM on top of NORAD then they will retaliate and we will have nuclear winter on top of everything else. There cannot be any mistake in this. Perform more analysis. Find a way to contact the Americans. Do whatever it takes. We will not launch until the facts are on our side.”
“Yes sir.”
The Russian president stands up and leaves the room without another word. As the others in the room slowly leave whispered conversations are held between the leaders of small factions that have formed over the last forty-eight hours. The chief subject of the conversations is, naturally, the virus. The distinction is in how the factions wish to deal with it.
Some believe the Russian president is moving too slowly on the subject. Others believe the fact that an ICBM launch even being on the table is a dangerous sign. What every faction knows and agrees with, though, is that the President has ears in every faction and knows precisely what everyone is thinking at all times. They all tread carefully as they speak, each of them keenly aware that the person they speak to next may deliver a report to the President directly after the conversation concludes.
Chapter 17
The Waters’ Homestead
Outside Ellisville, VA
Two days after killing the stranger trying to break into their property, Dianne sat on the back patio and watched her three children playing by the edge of the lake. A brief burst of warm weather meant she was able to break out the shorts and t-shirts for what was possibly the last time of the season. She hadn’t spoken to Mark about the incident two days prior since their brief conversation on the patio, but she had noticed him avoiding talking to her at every possible opportunity. Dianne didn’t want to pressure him to discuss the subject since she didn’t know what he was trying to work out in his mind, so when he came walking up from the lake to sit down beside her she was surprised.
“Mom?”
“Hey kiddo. You guys done?”
“Nah. They want to keep playing. I’ll go back down there in a minute. I wanted to talk to you first.”
“What’s up?”
“You were right.”
Dianne raised an eyebrow, trying to tread cautiously. “Right about what?”
“About… the other night. With what you had to do. I didn’t understand it then but I think I do now.”
“Oh yeah? What do you understand?”
