Organization

"I call to order this emergency meeting of the Shady Acres Neighborhood Watch and Vigilance Committee."

Lynn brought the meeting to order, with the six people sitting around a patio table in John's back yard. They were all sipping glasses of warm lemonade and sweating. It was barely past ten in the morning and already the temperature was approaching triple digits.

"I've taken the liberty of drawing up an agenda, if nobody objects." Lynn paused a moment, raising her right eyebrow in query. Nobody responded so she continued, "I have also created a list of officers and nominations for people to fill them. As to the agenda, first we'll get the positions filled. Then we'll analyze the situation and how it will affect us. I propose we generate a plan to respond to whatever threats we identify. Anybody can propose action items at any time. We will need to inventory our assets to see where we fall short of what we need. Then we will determine how to improve the weaknesses in our position and what we will need for long term survival".

"Todd, I nominate you as secretary. Since I'm your mother, you're going to accept. Here's a note pad and pencil.

"John, I nominate you as communications director, mainly because you have the only functional 2 way radios around. Anybody object?"

John spoke, "Yeah. Me."

"Overruled. There being no disinterested objections, John is our Communications King.

"Golda, since John is going to be very busy with his radios, and you have some military experience, you are nominated as Secretary of Defense."

Golda Laughed. "Could I have a title change with that?"

"Sure. Whatever you want."

"Minister of Peace."

"Angling for a job in the Simpson administration, are we? Miriam, you can be our Surgeon General."

"But you're the closest thing we have to a doctor."

"Yes but you've got the emergency room experience. All I ever see is rotting teeth. You got the gunshot wounds, the overdoses and the crash victims, all the fun stuff.

"I've got Supply Sergeant and Vice President of Human Resources left. Henry, June, who wants what?"

Henry and June hurriedly conferred. "We've decide to form an independent consulting firm." said June. "Logistical Nightmares Limited. We'll take on the jobs jointly."

"Fine by me."

"What about me? Don't I get a fancy title?" Todd was anxious not to get left behind.

"OK. Since we're all chiefs, you are hereby declared Indian."

Todd was crestfallen. "Just call me Tonto."

The group decided on which threats they would deal with first. The first priority was to get more people involved in the effort. That effort would be mostly door to door sales. Henry and June would be handling it with Lynn. They would concentrate on finding residents who were known to have particularly useful skills i.e. police, fire, medical, electronics, military and others.

Next they needed to establish some sort of communications between the different participants. Initially they decided to use Todd as a runner, doing daily rounds of the complex and special deliveries as needed. Some kind of instant communication would be needed if they were to respond to any crisis. That would be John's job.

"I have an idea of what we can do. But I'm going to need Todd to do it. Jennie and Ellie can help too. Right now I am approaching a problem. I need a source of power. That generator can't run forever. It eats about two gallons of gas every three hours. Between my van and the RV we have about 20 gallons. In 30 hours I'm down."

"Hmmm. Sounds like a logistics problem. We could cut back the hours of operation, say have you up and running every 4th hour." said June.

"If I have to, I'll do it. I'll miss a lot of what's happening. Sometimes I have to try that long just to get through to someone or to pick up something interesting. If we could find a small generator with lower rate of fuel consumption or a bigger fuel supply, that would help. A functioning transceiver that ran directly off 12 volts and a bank of solar cells would be good too. I'm also trying to maximize the usefulness of what we have by charging up all the batteries I can find. Let's make it an action item to send all the dead batteries and battery chargers you can find over here. Any battery can be recharged, standard, alkaline or nicad, if you know how to do it."

"From what you've learned on the radio, just what are we looking at?"

John let out a deep sigh. When Lynn was on a roll, resistance was futile. "It's bad. Real bad. It's not going to get good again soon, if ever.

"You all know about the high altitude nuclear explosion. I don't have a much better reading on what's happening around the country. I hear traffic from Hawaii and Alaska indicating those areas are untouched. Maine and points farther north and east took some damage but seem to be recovering. Everywhere else is still down.

"There was a lot of traffic last night on the HF and VHF bands. The military is moving in to the north of us. There are several refugee camps being set up along the 5, the 14 and all over the Antelope Valley. I'm getting this all second hand because without repeater stations, I'm limited to line of sight transmissions. Apparently one of them up by the Peter J. Pritchess Prison had a riot last night. Hundreds of people scattered to the hills and down into Santa Clarita. Someone started a fire. It's dry as old cork up there and several tents and most of their records burned before they could put it out...."

Lynn stepped onto his delivery, "Those damned prisoners are always rioting or escaping or whatever. They should never have turned an honor camp into a jail for murderers and gang bangers. It's just not built for it."

"Wasn't the jail inmates. It was the refugees, supposedly led by three unidentified mad anarchists. Must have been pretty bad in that camp for a riot to break out.

"Our friend in Washington has essentially suspended the Constitution. He doesn't have the legal authority to do it without a declaration of some sort from Congress, but I doubt if he asked them. FEMA has the power to forcibly evacuate you or forcibly prevent you from evacuating.

"Jubal, over in Sylmar says they've actually set up roadblocks in Newhall Pass with emplaced machine guns and they're patrolling all the mountain roads. Civilian traffic is currently prohibited on any and all roads leaving the city, supposedly for our own protection. You've heard all the things that have been nationalized and/or prohibited so I won't go over that again. Suffice it to say LA is now a large, very leaky federal prison.

"Per the Emergency Communications System, which I shall refer to henceforth as ECS, the military will be setting up food drops at Amtrak and Metrolink stations. They expect to maintain gas and water pressure indefinitely and restore limited power within a week. I'll believe that a week from now if it's still true, but right now, I'm skeptical.

"From what I have heard on the police bands the rioting and looting continues unabated. Parts of the eastern Valley have been heavily looted although the rioting still seems mostly restricted to south-central LA. There does seem to be a lot of gang activity going on, mostly turf warfare.

"Here's what I think about all this:

"I'll bet my trousers that The Powers That Be don't know who did this or why. Our biggest threat is the possibility of this all going to hell in a mushroom cloud. Out here in Granada Hills we aren't close to any military targets. And there's not much heavy industry up here, so we're not worth the effort to target. The west Valley has aerospace and the east Valley has a fair amount of light industry, so we might get bracketed. If you really want to survive regardless of what happens, practice your duck and cover drills and locate some kind of nearby underground shelter in case of fallout."

Henry said, "We have to assume that whatever happens we can survive and that survival is worthwhile. You can always change your mind later, after the fact."

"How true. I learned that the hard way"

Henry continued, "Barring nuclear war, the worst scenario I foresee is food and water shortage. The grocery stores depend on power for refrigeration. In a day or so they will all smell like charnel houses. The same is true of all our home refrigerators and freezers. As an action item, I recommend that everybody start cooking everything they can from their freezers before it spoils."

"I have some useful information." said June. "I've got some books on country living that go into detail on canning, jerking, smoking and so on. We can use barbecues, maybe even fireplaces if we have to, to speed the process."

Todd joined in. "That gives me an idea. Why don't we go to the grocery stores and pick up on all their spoiled meat? If we can preserve it before it get too bad, maybe we can't eat it but Tick and Blue sure will. I've seen them eat stuff that made me want to throw up, it smelled so bad."

June agreed, "Good point. The dogs have to eat too. And now they've become an important security asset. With everything all nationalized, the stores couldn't sell you food if they wanted to. That is, the ones that haven't been looted empty. But meat they already have to throw out? I bet they'd let you have it."

Henry picked up the thread. "I doubt if anybody here has enough food for more than a couple weeks on hand. Most don't have half that much. In just a few days there are going to be some very hungry people out there. Hungry people are desperate people. I'd hate to be lined up at those depots when the supply train arrives but we are going to have to. Which brings me to my next point. We are going to need to organize ourselves in getting and distributing our share of the incoming food. Never eat your own food when you can eat somebody else's, that's my motto."

"My biggest fear is roving gangs and solitary criminals." said John. "It's going to happen. There's never been such a good opportunity for all the murderous loonies to come out of the closet. Junkies needing a fix, psychopaths needing to kill, perverts needing someone to molest. There's no police protection and not likely to be much any time soon. That idiot Simpson thinks he's doing a lot of good with his ban on public display of firearms. Precisely the kind of law good people try to obey and bad people ignore. We've got to set up some kind of security here and I don't believe the good people of Shady Acres are up to it."

"Let me be the judge of that." harumphed Golda. "Remember, I'm the Minister of Peace. You're the Commo King." Then she winked at him. "Stick to your tubes old man and get me some communications. If my kibbutz could stand off an assault by a company of Jordanian infantry and a platoon of tanks with nothing but rifles, we can discourage a few petty looters without bloodshed. Although we really could use more bodies. We need someone to act as early warning for each approach. Since we'll never get enough people to cooperate to mount a perimeter defense, we'll need a fast reaction team backed up by a sniper. Unless we are overrun by waves of looters, what we really need to worry about are your roving gangs. Your individual criminals have to be left up to the individual to look out for.

"I nominate June and Henry for the reaction team, since they've already got guns. I recognize those pieces too. We took them from the British in forty eight, then they gave them to us in fifty six. When I was in the IDF home defense auxiliary, all we ever got were British and French surplus."

John was staring quizzically at the huge revolvers in the Henderson's matching holsters. "Where'd you get those shootin' irons? Don't think I've seen anything like them. What are they?"

"There's a story behind these." Henry responded. They're 454 Webleys. They've been adapted to use 45 ACP in half moon clips

"Years ago we were in Tanzania, doing research for a book and movie on the illegal ivory trade. The game warden refused to take us out into the field unarmed and untrained. They had these Webleys they'd been issued for side arms. The warden and his assistant carried 9mm pistols they'd mostly confiscated from poachers and smugglers, so we got these as hand-me-downs. Of course we had to purchase the Webleys, the clips and the bullets we used.

"He had an interesting method of training us. He picked out a man sized stump for a target and every morning and every evening had us practice on it at seven paces. Present and fire the revolver in 2 seconds in a Weaver stance, fire two more shots at one second intervals, then drop prone and do the same thing. Then reload. Did this 5 times every morning and evening. That stump died a thousand deaths. We got real good at dropping in those clips, too. He said it was more important to be accurate than fast."

"So you know how to use those.... Did you see any action?"

"We watched plenty of action, but never had to draw our guns. He told us that just having two extra hands who looked competent reduced the chances of poachers actively resisting. Made the odds look worse."

"Have you kept in practice?"

"Not as much as we'd like. Every few months."

"How much ammo do you have on hand?" asked Golda.

"We checked that before we came over. One box of fifty lead round nose, cheap practice rounds. Box and a half of jacketed hollow point. Those were for personal protection, but we never actually felt the need to keep the guns loaded, or even accessible, until now. Six in each revolver, another 12 each in half moons in our pouches."

"We'll want to inventory the weapons we have available and the ammunition too. Surely there's some police or military people or even security guards we can get to help us."

Todd spoke up. "What about me?"

Lynn gave Todd a look that would have shriveled a Marine drill sergeant. "You, son of mine, will stay as far away from any shooting as I can get you. No way is my child going to be involved in gun play. There will be no discussion on this. Understand?"

"Yes Mom."

"Don't you go rolling your eyes at me, young man!"

"Calm down Lynn. It's not like he's going to run off and join the Marines." John spoke with irony as he looked at Lynn with one highly cocked eyebrow. "Let's get back to issues. Continue, Golda."

"Henry has a point. In his story, not on his head. If we look unappetizing enough, we don't need to be really tough. We can set Todd in charge of the kids and have them build barriers for our four entrances. We can flatten the tires of any vehicles trying to run through them with caltrops. If we could find a source of razor or barbed wire - Henry? June? Are you listening? This is an action item from the Minister of Peace. - we could make it unappetizing for pedestrians. Put up big nasty signs threatening death and destruction to any who pass without permission."

Lynn asked, "Cal-whats?"

"Just think of them as jacks with real sharp points. And Lynn, I nominate YOU as another member of the response team until we find more bodies."

"But...!"

"But me no buts. You can't lead from the rear. Nobody will follow someone who is always behind them. I know Tom kept an armed house. Everybody has multiple roles to play here, including you. One additional body may be the difference between a firefight and the bad guys going somewhere else."

"Yes, I suppose I must. All I've got is a small pistol and a 12 gauge double and I haven't practiced in ages."

Todd started to say something, but stopped. Then smiled subtly. Lynn didn't notice. Maybe she should have.

"OK then, I'm on the team. Miriam, we haven't heard from you yet. If somebody here gets sick, the nearest clinic is an hour away on foot, probably overwhelmed, maybe impossible to get a seriously sick or injured person to."

"I'm afraid I don't have much to offer. I have some basics, like a stethoscope, betadine scrub and some first aid supplies, but aside from that I'm really not better off than anyone else."

"Action item: med-surg supplies for Miriam. We can loot my dental office. I have anesthetics, antibiotics and such in addition to all my dental tools. I've still got a dissection kit from college. Todd has a decent little microscope I think he'll lend you"

June added, "I'm sure you have resources you're not even thinking of. How about the Merck Manual? You've got to have some nursing books, maybe a PDR. I'll give you my copy of Where there is no Doctor to look at and my herbal medicine books and my copy of Medicine for Mountaineering. You can make your spare bedroom into a hospital of sorts."

"Thanks June. I guess I just don't feel very useful or competent. It would be a long way to the hospital and the doctors are likely to be overwhelmed. I feel a little guilty for not being there right now."

"Why don't you spend some time at the clinic up the street?" Todd suggested, looking for any excuse to get out and about. "It's not Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrows, but I'm sure they need the help. I could take you there on my motorcycle. I get fifty miles per gallon and that's a lot of trips."

Lynn almost spoke against it, but Miriam said in her gentle voice, "Thank you Todd. I shall take you up on that. God would want me to help the most people I possibly can. Perhaps I can bring home outdated medical supplies or goods they've thrown out that could still be sterilized and reused."

June said, "That's a lovely sentiment. Makes me feel guilty for not having any really useful skills to offer others. Is there any other help we can offer you?"

"No. Just remember those who are less fortunate than we in your prayers tonight. And let us also pray for Tom's safety and quick return."

The rest of the day was very busy for all of them. John devised three different communications plans. One he called the air raid siren plan. Many of the houses in the development had burglar alarms installed. While the computer brains in these units were almost certainly dysfunctional, the sirens and the gel cell batteries would still work. As a test he had Todd remove Miriam's burglar alarm siren, mount it on the peak of her roof and wired it directly to a simple switch and the battery. A flip of the switch resulted in a loud wailing that could be heard clearly outdoors for a block.

Jim said it should work as well for car alarms and when he explained it to the Hendersons, they mounted the car alarm siren on the roof of their Land Rover. Their daughter Rhiannon had painted some well done signs labeled Emergency Response Team and mounted them on the side and rear doors. They were dressed in their safari outfits all the time now. It was all a play to them and they were acting their parts to the hilt.

Todd took to wearing John's old uniform fatigues. (His father's were much too small.) They were short in the legs and tight across the chest, but nothing a bit of sewing wouldn't fix. Golda even trotted out her old IDF uniform. Upon discovering there was no way she was ever going to fit in it, she trotted it back into her cedar chest again. Her bolt action .303 Enfield and a 20 round box of full metal jacket came out of its case and she began to practice dry firing.

Jim's second idea for communications was to set up their own AM broadcast station. To do this he put Jennie to work doing what he called "bread boarding" and "plastic drawer engineering". After a couple hours of work they had a low power AM broadcast station running with a range of a couple hundred yards. It was powered by a single 9 volt radio battery. This was linked into the output from a walkman or alternately to a microphone, allowing the choice of live broadcast, recorded messages or rebroadcast from other stations. Jennie and Ellie alternated as DJs.

The third line of communications were some children's walkie talkies, also powered by 9 volt batteries. Golda and John agreed they were to be given to the response team, only to be turned on during "tactical" situations to preserve battery life. This could be signaled by any of the agreed communications modes: the alarm sirens, honking a car horn in bursts of three, notification by AM Radio or by runner.

In what time they could spare the committee were in and out of their houses cooking the spoilable contents of their refrigerators and freezers as quickly as possible. Their meals consisted of spoilable items that couldn't be cooked. Ice cream was very popular, as were popcicles. They also took time later in the day to walk the neighborhood and spread the word of all they had done and suggest that others follow suit.

The radio station was a big hit with everybody, especially the kids. It created a sense of a return to regular life. It broadcast food preparation tips, summaries of official broadcasts, music and requests for assistance. Soon several people had stepped up with equipment John had requested including a Honda generator that would put out 350 watts for only a tenth of a gallon per hour, a couple of bicycle generators and a couple of solar battery trickle chargers. Now Radio Free Shady Acres could run on solar during the day and use batteries only at night.

Nobody volunteered for the response team or as lookouts. However a plethora of scrap lumber, chains and building supplies were turned up. These were combined with trash containers to make reasonable barriers to vehicles at three of the four entrances. Todd took charge of this project and several other teen aged residents who were bored to tears and desperate for something to do.

The news from Santa Clarita continued to be grim. Troops were scouring the hills, looking for refugees to take back to the camp. It did not look like Tom would be making it back any time soon. Most of the country still appeared to be shut down although some small communities were getting limited power back. The rioting had abated in the south central areas, but had spread to new areas such as east LA, the central city, La Brea and Los Feliz. Pacoima, Sun Valley and San Fernando had reports of severe gang violence.

Almost no news from beyond LA was available except what the BBC was broadcasting. The world's financial markets were crashing. America was the single most important component of the world's fragile economy. Now that it was gone, most of the third world and much of the second world was facing starvation. The industrial powers of Europe and Asia were in crisis, lacking an export market and a source for many vital supplies.

America was also central to what little peace the world had experienced. NATO was already on it's highest level of alert. The whole bloody mess in the Balkans was in danger of eruption again. Suddenly the Arabs threatened to assault the Israelis with chemical and biological weapons, convincing themselves that the Great Satan America was the only reason Israel had prevailed in earlier conflicts. India and Pakistan immediately started rattling their nuclear sabers at each other. With starvation looming, Africa was ready to erupt into chaos and total war.

With nothing but gloom and doom on the international scene, the committee decided not to transmit much of this information to the rest of the community. They needed to concentrate on immediate survival and recovery, not on things over which there was no control.

That evening Lynn and the others fell into an exhausted sleep. They had accomplished much, yet much, much more was left to do. It was also the last night they would rest without a lookout on duty.

The Marines have landed...

The next day, after taking Miriam to the nearby clinic, Todd was set on his appointed rounds. Lynn's daughters started up again as DJs for Radio Free Shady Acres. Soon there were a dozen young girls getting in John's way. Of course soon afterward there were a dozen boys to keep them company.

Lynn was set to go and pillage her dental office. The roads were still too backed up to get very far by car, but at least they were getting better. People were coming back to reclaim their abandoned vehicles. Each time another car made it home, the road got a little freer. Autos that were completely disabled were being pushed off the street into any available space by people who spontaneously formed work teams to get their own cars out.

Golda had insisted that most of the response team stay in place, so Lynn had charmed a middle aged Vietnamese gentleman by the name of Nguyen Cao into accompanying her on bicycle to her office. Even armed, she did not feel safe enough to go alone. She learned Mr. Cao had been a Colonel in the Army of Vietnam, something she had never known before, and she was curious as to why he was to reluctant to get involved with the committee.

"Your government will come and take you over. Sooner or later. You are not doing it their way. They do not want you to take care of your selves. They want sheep, not goats. High nails get hammered down first. I will be a very short nail."

"But don't you think we will get by better if we work together?"

"I have seen war. I have seen chaos. This is both. The more things seem to slip away, the harder government grabs. Better for us the government falls completely, no replacement. I fear secret police more than bombs, more than criminals. I can shelter from bombs. I can kill criminals. I can not kill the government or shelter from it.

"Already they tell us no guns. Next they tell us no radio. No storing too much food. Then they will force us out of our homes or force strangers into our homes. Committees like yours will be suspicious. The people they will make slave laborers. Even dentists."

"Then why are you helping me now?"

"You are a pretty lady with no husband to protect her. Maybe I protect you for a little while. Maybe I see too many ladies die...." he trailed off.

Lynn felt this to be extraordinarily chauvinistic, yet also very touching, although she couldn't share his paranoia about the government. It seemed that something very terrible had happened to this man. She wanted to find out what, but also didn't want to intrude.

Col. Cao pedaled his one speed Schwinn like he had been born on a bicycle and Lynn had to exert herself to keep up, even on her 15 speed. Soon they arrived where her van had been parked in a stranger's driveway. It did not appear to have been broken into or moved. The house it was in front of looked empty, with drawn curtains, but one couldn't tell from this. Many people had simply pulled the curtains, locked the doors and kept their silence, as had Col. Cao.

"Let's get this thing out of their driveway and park it somewhere else."

Together they loaded the bicycles into the back of the Caravan. Lynn managed to drive a few blocks before her progress was halted. It was fortunate that they had stopped because she happened to look at the gas gauge and her tank was almost completely dry.

"There was a quarter tank in it when I left it there."

"Maybe someone need it more than you. Lucky you still have a battery."

They continued east, again on bicycle. The further they got, the more ominous the cloud of smoke ahead became. The burning must have spread to the east valley, to within a few of miles of her office. They began to see a trickle of refugees walking to the west. It was not a good sign.

"I see this a hundred times. Always refugees. Always smoke and death behind them. We must hurry. There are those who would kill for a bicycle."

The exterior door of the building had been smashed and a small pharmacy in the building front had been thoroughly looted as had a veterinary office by the rear entrance, both offices having glass doors. The damage looked recent enough that the looters might even still be in the building, so Nguyen urged extreme caution before entering. Lynn's office did not appear to have been looted yet. They quickly entered her suite, locking the door behind them. It was a solid core door in a metal frame, offering a small degree of security. Her note was still taped to it. Inside they quickly filled their packs with pain killers and antibiotics and dental instruments.

"Now we leave door open, tear the place up. Make it look looted. Looters may not look too close when they see that. If we need, we come back with your van and take big stuff when the roads clear."

This hadn't occurred to Lynn, but it seemed a really good idea. They grabbed the 12 volt gel cell battery from her alarm thinking that every additional battery they could get might be needed. The last thing she took was a large bowl of sugar-free suckers she handed out to the little children who were her clients. Lynn's pack was now heavy and hurt her shoulders to carry, just as it had two days earlier. The Colonel had a framed pack he called an "Alice" that looked infinitely more comfortable to wear.

On their way back they managed to park the van only about a half mile from home. The engine was already starting to choke from lack of fuel. While they were gone, something had gone down Chatsworth Boulevard and cleared a single continuous lane. Something very powerful with a blade had simply pushed obstructing vehicle to the side. Cao looked closely at the tire marks left on the street.

"It was a deuce. Probably big V-blade on it. Probably heavy load to give traction. Marines have landed."

For all their efforts, the van was still little closer to home than before. But at least now it was located on a passable road. Both Lynn and the Colonel were drenched in sweat in the 100 plus degree heat. In front of Lynn's house they were confronted by dozens of various cuts of meat spread out across the hot asphalt.

How not to jerk beef...

With his mother gone, Todd was more or less free to do as he wished. Traveling by bicycle, she'd not get back for at least two hours. Why she hadn't had him take her there on his motorcycle was a mystery, but it didn't take a genius to see she was just being over protective again. The girls were over at the radio shack, as John's place was becoming known, so there was no need to watch them. This day he walked a quarter of the development, with Henry, June and their daughter taking the rest. Maybe he didn't try very hard to raise those who didn't appear to be at home and maybe he didn't say very much to those who were, but he got the message out that they were organizing and had a radio station up and to tell their neighbors. He'd let the radio do the rest of the talking.

His first concern was the dogs. They would need food. Aside from having only about a week of kibble on hand, there wasn't much to feed them. So hauling the biggest back pack he could find he rode his motorcycle just a couple blocks up the street to a nearby supermarket. A civilian wearing a badge identifying him as the store manager and a young black police officer, both looking ragged and exhausted, were on the scene not doing much of anything.

"Mornin' sir."

"Can't help ya. We're closed. All our inventory belongs to the relief effort. No sales."

"What about your meat and frozen food? With refrigeration gone it will have become spoiled in this heat by now."

"What do you want with spoiled meat? If you eat it you might get sick."

"It's not for me. We have two dogs and they won't mind it a bit. Just adds a little flavor to it for them. You're just going to throw it out any how."

"If it was up to me I'd do it. But it's not. You may be planning on selling it as good meat to some unsuspecting person. How should I know? The orders say nothing leaves this store whatsoever without an official authorization. Now head on home."

Then the police officer stepped into the discussion. "You look real familiar. Where do you live?"

"Just up the street at Shady Acres."

"Thought I recognized you. I live there too. Or at least in theory. I haven't been home since the morning the power went down. Been living at the station. I see you've got some of the entrances blocked off. "

"They thought it would be a good idea. Didn't want a lot of cars wandering through. Might discourage gangs enough to look for easier pickings."

"Which "they" is that?"

"The neighborhood watch committee. My Mom's President."

"You must be Senator McArthur's son. Better tell your Mom that those roadblocks are illegal. If the military sees them, they'll tear them out. If it looks like someone is guarding the place, they'll get detained."

"But why?"

The officer let out a long exhausted sigh. "They don't want things to get out of hand. Militias forming up, challenging the governments hand. Vigilantes arresting and executing without trial. People hoarding food or profiteering while other people starve." Then he snorted derisively. "Too many grasshoppers, too few ants."

"So my dogs starve because you can't trust people with spoiled meat?"

The officer led Todd aside, closer to the street and out of the immediate earshot of the store manager. "Look son. What are your real plans for the meat?"

"Just what I said. I'm going to salt it down and then dry it in the sun. That's how you make jerky, you know."

The Coleman's next door had a deep freeze with a whole side of beef in it. When the power went down, they had sealed it shut with duct tape and piled all the blankets they could find over, around and under it to hopefully keep it cool as long as possible. In a newspaper article they had read that storing containers of water in the freezer would keep it cool longer in the event of power failure, so there were at least a dozen gallon jugs of frozen water in there along with the meat, along with a couple gallons of ice cream and two frozen turkeys. Unfortunately for them, they had an electric stove top and oven. The project of cooking it fell to their neighbors with gas cooking equipment and the McArthur's stove and barbecue were once again being pressed into service. Todd had asked June how to preserve meat without cooking it and she mentioned the jerking process.

"Ok, so I trust you because I know you're a good kid and you've got a good family. I'm not suggesting anything, but the loading gate in the rear is unlocked. If someone were to sneak into the back, real quiet like, we'd never know it if they were to unload the refrigerator case of a few packages of beef. But if I were to catch someone coming out with preserved food or if I caught them trying to sell it later, they would end up in the detention camp regardless of who's son they were. Understand?"

Todd swallowed, "Yes sir." he said.

Soon Todd and 50 pounds of packaged beef appeared at the McArthur's. Each piece of meat was then liberally coated with salt and laid out in the sun on a piece of clear food wrap in the hottest place he could think of.Todd then stood guard to be sure nobody and nothing scavenge it. Then his mother came home.

"Todd McArthur, just what do you think you're doing?!"

"I'm jerking meat, just like June said to. Salt it heavily and let it dry in the sun."

"Where did you get all this meat?"

"I didn't steal it. It's stuff from the market that was unrefrigerated and was getting thrown out."

Slowly Lynn, who was exhausted and dehydrated from her office run, began to gain her composure. Shaking her head and massaging her temples she said, "Dear God, why do I have to have such precocious children? Why do I get blessed with such geniuses to cope with and not the genius to do it with?

"Todd, if you want to jerk meat with the sun, you first have to cut the meat into thin slices. Then hang it or lay it on a rack in the sun with good all around air circulation. You can't jerk a whole roast that way, even if it is a hundred degrees. The best way is to heat it in a smoker. You can get higher temperatures that way, use larger pieces and the smoke will add some flavor." She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek to let him know she wasn't really angry with him. "Now get a sharp knife and a cutting board and be careful.

"Looks like at least the dogs will eat well, even if we starve."

While Col. Cao retreated to his home and Todd was set to slicing the meat into thin strips, Lynn reported to John about the success of their expedition and the refugees heading their way. She also reported the lane clearing process.

"Yeah we heard it. Made a helluva racket. Had a two and a half ton truck rigged with a blade up front. Maybe twenty fully armed troops, most riding, some walking. Never saw anything like it before in my life. They'd push a car straight ahead until they found a space to put it in. Then they'd push it sideways. Not very pretty, but effective.

"If the refugees make it out this far we'll have a problem."

"What will we do?" she asked.

"Make them feel unwelcome, I guess. That's about all we can do. We'll have to keep someone up all night on watch, need to talk to Golda. Refugees aren't confined to the daylight, you know. Pray that they decide to hang out around Amtrak stations. That's where the food shipments will arrive starting tomorrow according to the ECS."

"Did they give a schedule?"

"Ours will be at noon and at six.

"Todd said that according to Peter Gallagher - You know, that policeman who lives on the far side of Shady Acres on White Oak who wasn't home? - that our barricades barricades were considered illegal and that we can't post armed guards."

"To hell with the government. If they decide the barricades must be torn down then they'll have to do it. June and Henry know not to "display" their weapons when the authorities are around and so do you and Golda. We can't just sit here helpless, after all. But alas, we now have a few more executive disorders to put up with.

"Hoarding is prohibited. Civilians are prohibited from keeping more than a week's food supply or a full tank of gas on hand.

"Militias and paramilitary groups are prohibited from forming or assembling. Civilians are prohibited from taking law enforcement into their own hands."

"Well, it sounds reasonable to me. I don't see how any of that applies to us. I mean, it's not like we're doing anything like that. I certainly don't think people should be hoarding food when others are going hungry. And we don't want people walking around with guns and acting like some kind of junior police corps, or worse yet, a lynch mob."

Jim could only roll his eyes and sigh.

An hour later, Lynn was in the kitchen with Miriam, tending to one of the Colemans' turkeys. "Do you smell wood smoke?"

"Yes, maybe it's the barbie?"

"I don't think so. This is different, it smells more like pine."

"Who would be running a wood fire on a day like today?"

"Maybe somebody is cooking over their fireplace."

There was indeed a fire kindling, and it was in the McArthur's fireplace. And Todd, who had climbed up a ladder to the top of the chimney, was lowering one of several long wires down it. Attached to each wire, using a paper clip inserted into knots tied in the wire for a hook, were a large number of strips of beef. "This time," he thought to himself, "She can't possibly get mad at me."

Trial by fire

The day became the night and then the next day. The development gradually awoke to the long term nature of the situation and people became more cooperative. Families were found who agreed to watch the three blockaded entrances and sound a warning in the event of trouble. Likewise it was possible to convert their burglar alarms to exterior manually activated alarms. Since there were no alleys between rows of houses, these people were instructed to sound the alarm and evacuate by going over their back walls, preferably into the yard kitty corner behind them. None of these people were at all interested in armed defense.

A pickup truck shuttle was arranged to take people to and from the food distribution center. The center was heavily protected by armed troops and had literally thousands of refugees encamped around it. Many of these refugees were drafted into a labor pool for various relief efforts, but there remained a large pool of indigent and unhappy people to cause trouble. Flyers were distributed, outlining all the major executive orders. Ration cards were issued, initially by driver's license, then by recent copies of income tax filings. For folk with homes, the center was a place to get away from as quickly as possible.

Officer Gallagher was still living at the police station working 16 hour, shifts guarding unlooted grocery and electronics stores until the military could loot them. Col. Cao was gradually coaxed onto the committee, mostly by John, who he'd never known before. They would talk for hours about battles and places, long unmentioned but never forgotten. While John had lost the ability to walk during Tet, the Colonel had lost his wife and son during the evacuation. They were some of the boat people who's boats were machine gunned by the North Vietnamese on the high seas. Ever since he had lived in isolation.

Then Sam showed up, just after dawn. Miriam intercepted him staggering into the complex area. His eyes were bruised, his lips split and his wrists were abraded with rope burns. His clothing consisted of a pair of bloody briefs and there were bruises all over his body. He insisted on going to Todd's house, so she helped him there. Lynn was asleep from watching half the night, but Todd was up and the racket woke the girls up almost immediately.

"Oh my God! What happened to you?" exclaimed Todd.

"A gang. Bikers. Broke in, tore the house up. I was asleep. They beat me up. Tied me up. Wanted to know where all the money was. I didn't have any money, it was all in the bank."

"Todd, you know this boy?"

"Yes, Miriam. He a friend from school. His parents are in Hawaii, so he's alone."

"Oh the poor dear! Lets lay him down on the sofa. Ellie you get a sheet and some blankets. Jennie you get ... no your mother needs to sleep. He has nothing life threatening. Go get June"

They made a bed for him on the sofa and removed the bloody shorts. At first he resisted this, but relented when a towel was provided for his privacy. Miriam sent Ellie out again, when June arrived, to bring a wash basin, the first aid kit and some warm water and a clean wash cloth. Miriam performed a detailed examination of Sam to ensure that no broken bones, internal injuries or signs of concussion existed. They then washed the cuts and abrasions with antiseptic soap and bandaged them with an antibiotic ointment. Lastly they gave him a codeine and Tylenol pill for the pain.

June began to debrief the boy. "Did this gang just attack your house or was it hitting houses at random?"

"I think just mine."

"Any idea of why?" Sam suddenly became agitated and started to stammer. "Uhhh..."

"I know why." Todd said. "His parents are both doctors. I bet they wanted drugs. Todd stared intently at Sam. He knew the drugs they were after weren't prescription drugs.

"Yeah, that's it. They kept asking for the drugs. Valium. Codeine. Miltown." Sam began to shiver.

"He's going into shock, though I doubt it will be life threatening. Ellie, get me a hot water bottle wrapped in a towel. Two if you've got them. And we'll need more blankets to keep him warm. Jennie, I want some pillows to prop up his feet."

"Todd, can you describe these people? What were they wearing? How were they transported? How were they armed?"

"Bikers. Tattoos. Long hair. A few guns. Some had knives. Some girls too. The leader was a big guy, real big, like a weightlifter only real tall. "

"Can you tell me what kinds of guns?"

"Big guy had a shotgun. I think it was a pump. There were hand guns. I don't know. I don't know anything about guns."

"How did you get away?"

"They tied me up in the bedroom. They were - ah - going to - to - to 'do' me they said. Then they got into the liquor cabinet and started to party, kinda forgot about me. I managed to get untied and climbed out the window while they were drinking."

"Why come here?"

Sam was starting to sob in between shivering, "I don't have anybody. I don't have anywhere. I don't have nowhere to go."

"There, there. Everything is going to be ok. You're safe now. Close your eyes and get some rest and we'll talk some more later."

In moments Sam had drifted off to sleep, clutching the water bottle like a teddy bear.

Ellie and Jennie were sent off to RFSA early. Todd, June and Miriam stepped outside. Todd said, "There's more than he is saying. His parents were big in the drug scene. Street drugs as well as prescription. They were always off on some vacation, always left Sam behind, even left him drugs to do while they were gone. That's why they picked his house."

"What are you going to do, Todd?" asked June.

"Talk to Mom about it. Take care of him for now, I guess." Todd looked very troubled. "They didn't just talk about doing him. They did him. That's why his shorts were so bloody."

"Yes Todd, they did him." responded Miriam. "And no doubt made him do things as well. I've seen rape victims before, solo and gang rapes, male and female. ER nurses see it all. I know exactly what happened to him and I refuse to go into details. Let's keep this our little secret. Don't even talk to him about it unless he brings it up. In God's eye, this makes no difference and to us that is all that matters. But to Sam, he's lost his dignity. Maybe his masculinity. Not to mention the possibility of AIDS or some other venereal disease. Just as Christ has compassion for the sinner who is transgressed upon, we must also show our compassion for Sam.

"Of course."

June wondered aloud, "What does this means for our security plans?"

They wouldn't have long to wonder.

Two hours later, the first gunfire in their area since the beginning of the blackout had erupted. The sound came from up the street in the direction of the supermarket. Todd was just on his way to the clinic with Miriam and they didn't hear the sound over the motorcycle when Henry came leaping over the wall abutting the street and frantically flagged them down. The instant they halted they could hear it too. Everybody returned to the development and the "tactical" radios came on. As quickly as it began, the firing halted.

Golda ordered the team into their positions. Lynn had been relaxing in a tub of hot water, thanking her lucky stars that water and gas pressure had never been lost. That might change tomorrow. All she had cared about was soaking away her cares in a cloud of bubbles and trying to forget about her new houseguest. Now her life was pure adrenaline. When she heard the alarm, she threw on a t-shirt and shorts, took the shotgun and pistol and ran to Miriam's house at the north entrance, still dripping wet and soapy. This was most likely to be invaded as it was not barricaded and fronted the only opened street. She traversed the front lawns, hugging the houses, taking advantage of and being prepared to dive into a doorway or a gate to a yard if need be.

Henry and June took their Rover to a central location to wait for orders on where to respond as a mobile reserve unit. John began broadcasting distress signals on military and police frequencies and took out an Army issue Colt .45, while the girls sent out warnings on RFSA to the residents to stay inside and lock their doors. Nobody had assigned a job to Col. Cao, and nobody could seem to contact him. Golda climbed to an adjacent home's 2nd floor roof through a gable in the attic suitable for that purpose. With her Enfield, binoculars and radio, she took a position behind the peak that gave her complete command of the front entrance and a limited view of the other three. This took almost ten minutes to get into place with much confusion and disorganization.

Minutes later Col. Cao showed up at the commo center. "I hear shots. Go on recon. Many bikers are looting the supermarket. Pharmacy I think, they're not carrying out food or goods. Owner dead. Officer hurt very bad. Unconscious. I put him in dumpster until we can get him

"Maybe they come this way, maybe they not. I wait here."

"Here, take my .45. They may need you."

"Thank you no. Have my own."

"They need you up front. All we have is Golda and Lynn. Golda is using the Hendersons as a reserve."

"Front is secure."

"How do you know that?"

"Golda there."

"So?"

"I study war. All wars. 1967 Arab-Israel war too. Heard she was in it. Checked with my sources. She kill twenty five men with that rifle, including one tank. Got big medal. IDF sniper trainer afterwards. I go up there anyhow. Watch. Maybe help if needed."

"Holy cow. Who'd 'av guessed?"

"Not judge candy bar by wrapper."

Lynn was in Miriam's house, cursing herself for ever having gotten involved in this. She was no fighter, she was a mother and a dentist. Neither profession prepared her for what she was at least pretending to do now, to be a soldier. Every instinct told her to turn around and return home, to get her children together and lock the doors and pull the curtains and wait this thing out. "Where the hell is Tom, dammit? This is his job. I shouldn't even be here. Why the hell did I let Golda talk me into this? I'm going to stay right here inside and not do a thing and this will all go away. Nothing will happen anyhow and I couldn't do anything about it if it did and it's not my responsibility and why aren't some of these other big brave husbands in the community out here and where the hell are the cops when you need them probably looting a doughnut shop...@#$%^&*!!!!"

For the moment she was right. Nothing was happening....

Skag was a big man and a natural leader. The other bikers just looked at him and followed him out of fear or awe. At six and a half feet he was imposing. And the massive musculature sculpted (at tax payer expense) during years of imprisonment only added to the imposition. Plus he had a knack for sounding like he knew what he was talking about even if he rarely did. This weird power failure gave him an idea, he would become the next Tiburicio Vasquez, a famous 19th century bandit of California. Unfortunately being just out of prison, he still needed to assemble his army.

At first he didn't even have a bike. Despite an initial setback, which he blamed on his former partner Pedro, he managed to get a respectable looking hawg quickly enough. Then he set about collecting riff-raff and losers from the underground speed and coke economy for his staff. He had a strong fondness for crank and upon learning of a yuppie dealer in the north Valley decided to go take some.

He was disappointed. All he could find was small quantities of prescription drugs, less than an ounce of pot, a little acid and some dust on a mirror. Instead he found some naked pretty boy in bed, tripping on some "ecstasy" his daddy had left for him. "Well, he's going to have one hell of a bad trip." thought Skag. "Never saw such a wimp before, a couple of belts across the face and he'd do anything you asked and say thank you for it."

Skag decided to let the gang have some fun with him, but soon they just lost interest and settled into some serious drinking. About half way through the well stocked liquor cabinet someone noticed the boy was gone. One of the guys saw him jogging down the street in his briefs and started to go get him, but Skag had a different idea. "Let him go." he said. "Keep an eye on him. Find out where he goes, then we'll hit that place. Maybe his friends have good crank."

And so it was that Skag had ID'd the McArthur house in Shady Acres as his next stop. Except that en route he found an unlooted supermarket with a pharmacy and only one worthless cop standing guard. And, well, he just couldn't resist the temptation....

Todd had plans of his own.

He was supposed to stay with Sam at home. Failing that he was supposed to bug out to the comunications center. But the McArthur household had one more firearm that Lynn had forgotten about in the stress of the moment. Tom had given Todd a .22 rifle for his 13th birthday, a Winchester pump that had belonged to his father before him.

Todd loaded the tube magazine with 15 rounds of super hi velocity ammo, grabbed a box of fifty more, and set out to be a hero.

Lynn's radio crackled, "Miriam, are you there?"

"I'm here."

"John, do you read? How's the SOS going?"

"I read you clear. Still no response, still trying."

"Henry, June are you in position?"

"Roger that."

"Lynn, come in."

No response.

"Lynn...?"

Still no response.

"LYNN, DO YOU READ ME?"

Suddenly Lynn was jolted back to reality from her fulminations.

"Yes, I read you."

"Good. No sign of hostiles yet. If we are lucky they won't come. But to be safe, get the tire stoppers in place."

Lacking welding facilities to make the caltrops Golda had wanted, they had taken scrap plywood and boards and driven through long nails and spikes at various angles. This could be scattered about quickly, forcing anyone in a car or motorcycle to stop and move them before passage was possible. If enough area was covered and the nails spaced close enough together, even walking was a dangerous proposition. There weren't nearly enough tire stoppers to be that effective, but nobody was going to drive through any time soon. These had been permanently emplaced at the other three openings with road adhesive and spikes into the asphalt. Saw horses painted yellow and covered with reflective tape prevented the innocent from getting impaled upon them. But the ones at the front entrance had to be dragged into place and that was Lynn and Miriam's job.

"Ok, it's being done now."

In just a few seconds, a few dozen devices had been scattered about, sufficient numbers that nobody was riding through without losing their tires. They had run out of saw horses so some bright yellow nylon rope was stretched across the width of the road with cardboard warning signs, hand lettered in fluorescent paint, hanging from it.

The entrance way to Shady Acres was pretty much standard for developments in the Valley. The north side faced Renfield, a major street, but all that was visible from the road was the rear walls of the back yards of the front row of houses and the peaks of some of the two story residences. The development was square, with a single road entering the center of each side. The first 40 feet of each road was faced with 6 foot block walls and a detached garage. This was the area obstructed by the tire stoppers and the rope barricade. From there on, until it ended in a T intersection, there was open lawn and shrubbery.

At this intersection, the stem of the "T" was Elm Grove Lane and the cross street was Oak. Golda was perched in a prepared position atop a two story house, slightly to the west of Elm Grove on the south side of Oak. Miriam's house was the first house immediately west, on the north side of Oak. Her garage door was locked and bolted from the inside blocking that ingress. The garage door opposite had been nailed shut as the owner was not home.

The McArthur household was ten houses west of Miriam's on the same side of the street. Their back yard wall also faced Renfield.

Just as Lynn was about to relax and decide it was a false alarm, she heard the rumbling of motorcycles. It got louder, grew to a thunder. No fewer than a dozen bikes pulled up short at the tire flatteners on Elm Grove, the lead two bikes wiping out in their efforts to avoid puncture.

"What the hell is this?" roared Skag after they had all halted.

Lynn held her breath as the two women peered through the kitchen window at the unwelcome arrivals. Her heart pounded in her throat and fear clutched at her breast. To the right of her, Lynn could hear a faint "Hail Mary, full of grace..." If she had been a religious woman herself, the 23rd Psalm would have sounded pretty good right now.

Golda's voice crackled over the radio and Lynn fumbled to turn down the volume. "Don't do anything unless they actually try to enter your house or yard. I have a clear field of fire. They try anything, they are dead meat. Henry, June, hold your position until I give the word."

Grabbing a short, black man who was attempting to right his Harley, Skag roared again. "Why the hell didn't you mention this? It could've messed us all up!"

"It wasn't there this morning, I swear!"

Releasing the man, the big guy swore a blue streak and set one of the bikers to circumnavigate the development to check the other entrances. Momentarily he returned. "They're all this way, only worse. The others are all nailed down and have trash cans and crap chained across 'em."

"Don't see no reception committee." Something made Skag's hair stand up on the back of his neck and Skag always listened to his neck hair. "Hey Inky, which house did the kid go to?"

"A two story with a funny chimney. 'Bout ten houses that way."

"Snag one of these cars. Everybody follow me." The bikers roared off up the street, stopping behind the McArthur house.

Fear turned to horror, then rage. Miriam shouted, "Lynn, wait!" but it was too late. Lynn had grabbed the shotgun and bolted, sprinting barefoot down the sidewalk to her house.

Golda's voice again crackled over the radio, "Henry, June, the McArthur house. Now! I've got to move. I don't have LOS there."

Somebody had obligingly left his keys in the ignition of their car when he had abandoned it. As Lynn reached the front door, she was screaming for Todd to bug out. On the street an engine revved. Tires squealed. And a Toyota sedan crashed through the rear block wall of the McArthur's yard, coming to rest in the swimming pool.

Nobody was on the sofa. Sam was gone. Where? She heard someone moving around upstairs. Shouting up the stairs, she yelled, "Take Sam into the attic! Pull up the ladder and cover the hole! Wait for the Hendersons!"

Through the sliding glass doors to the patio she could see bikers stepping through the hole in the wall. The short black one was climbing out of the pool. She had to stall to give Todd time to hide. Her still damp t-shirt gave Lynn an idea. She knew what kind of men these were. She poured a bottle of water over herself in the kitchen, soaking her shirt to near transparency. For good measure she undid the button on her shorts and unzipped them slightly.

Lynn had never considered herself an attractive woman. Only a couple of inches over 5 foot, her figure was much closer to Jane Mansfield, than to the athletic, youthful appearance in demand today. Frankly, she considered herself a cow with an excessive amount of curvature both top and bottom. Tom was always trying to coax her into what he called "figure modeling", but it wasn't prudishness that kept her back. It was insecurity about her appearance.

She would have no reason to feel insecure about her figure with these characters. Stepping quickly outside, quaking with anxiety, she would do what she had to in order to buy time.

Cradling the shotgun suggestively and striking what she hoped was a sexy pose, Lynn did her best to be a dizzy, stoned redhead.

"Wow man! Far out!"

The men stepping through the breech froze and stared at her. Jaws dropped.

"Don't stay-ah, it's not polite. Haven't y'all evah seen a woman before?" She pressed the stock of the shotgun suggestively between her thighs.

"Oh my God! I have died and gone to heaven." Skag raised his arm to hold the other men back. "Baby, are you for real?"

"Sho 'nuff sugah. Ah you? Y'all the biggest hunk of man ah evah did see!" The southern accent was getting slathered on thicker and thicker.

"There was a boy came by here earlier today. A little bit damaged. Where is he?"

"Why, I shipped him off to the clinic. He was all chewed up."

"Yeah, some of the boys do get a little rough." He arched his eyebrow then said, "Some of the girls too." Skag's hormones were getting the better of him. He stepped forward, casually twirling a short barreled shotgun as though it were a pistol and he a quickdraw artist. He shrugged his leather vest off, exposing a broad, hairy, muscular chest, deeply tanned.

Lynn did her best to pretend barely controlled lust, while thinking what an excellent target it made.

At about ten feet he stopped, flexed his muscles and spoke. He voice dropped from a loud baritone to a deep, yet intimate bass."Why don't you just hand that popgun over to me? I got what you want and you know it."

"Ok, sugah. I'll let you have it."

And she did. With both barrels. Directly in that broad, muscular chest that made such an excellent target.

The shotgun very nearly tore itself out of her hand. Skag fell backwards onto the Toyota's not quite submerged front hood, head crashing into the windshield, arms splayed like some crucified Hercules. Stinging, acrid smoke filled the air. There was a moment of hesitation before the other bikers raised their weapons. Lynn took this opportunity to throw herself backwards into the dark house and dive for cover behind the stove in the kitchen. She was pursued by the sound of breaking glass and gunfire from many weapons at once.

Frantically she loaded two more shells in the shotgun's chambers. Then felt to make sure the small pistol was still in the back of her waist band.

And then it suddenly stopped. There were no more bullets flying through her walls. Nobody crashing after her in pursuit. Feet running away. Then several motorcycles being started. Three distinct shots from outside with about two seconds between each. The cycles continued to idle but didn't sound like they were going anywhere.

As her hearing returned, Lynn heard people moving around upstairs. Todd was yelling. Henry was yelling. June was yelling. Almost simultaneously Todd came storming down the stairs and the Hendersons climbed through the smashed sliding doors. Miriam threw open the front door and ran in.

"Are you ok?" they all asked in such a confusion Lynn could hardly tell what they were saying.

"Yes, yes. I'm all right." then, "Todd, you're hurt!" Todd had a small patch of blood on his left shoulder. Lynn leapt up at Todd, sending Henry crashing out of her way.

"It's nuthin. Cut myself on some broken glass, breaking out the window."

"Thank God you weren't hurt during the shooting." She turned to Henry, "What happened?"

"Things went like we planned. When we heard where the attack was, we rushed over here and entered the house to the east side of you. Golda went in on the west side because it was closer. She doesn't get around very fast anymore, especially after that rooftop climb. Your neighbors had bugged out in such a hurry when they heard the car go through your wall they left their doors wide open. We took up positions on the second floor to produce a cross fire. Without the delay you provided with your, er, display, we wouldn't have been set up in time. Even then we'd never have gotten them all, especially with revolvers at this range and Golda only having a bolt, if it weren't for your son and Col. Cao."

Henry pretended to leer at Lynn. Or maybe he wasn't pretending after all....

"My son?" Lynn's expression of motherly concern suddenly turned into something entirely different.

"Your son hero! Big hero! We make up medal for him!" Colonel Cao was walking down the stairs. Sam was next to him, leaning on him heavily for support.

"I came over here after commo center to watch fun. Took Sam upstairs to real bed instead of couch. Todd had his rifle loaded and ready to go. Was about to leave for the front to protect his mother. I talked him out of it. Lucky mother!"

"We heard you yelling when you got to the door. No way was Todd hiding when you in danger. We watch out rear window to see what is happening. Moved over bookcase for extra cover. I worried that someone would look up at us and see us, but nobody did. Now I know why.

"Todd aim and fire carefully at center of mass, just like I say. Not head shots on moving targets. Not get all crazy and shoot as fast as he can. Not run and hide. Fight for what is good! When shooting is all done run down to check on mother."

All the while he was saying this, Cao was watching the back yard intently. "Must check for survivors. Tell John to stop sending out SOS." Then he strode into the yard with his pistol at the ready and examined the casualties.

The Colonel exclaimed, "Where did the big guy go? He's not here!"

Miriam exclaimed, "Where is Golda?!"

In their rush to check on Lynn, nobody had watched the back yard while Col. Cao descended the stairs. Skag was gone. Golda had not shown up yet either.

"But you hit him with both barrels, square in the chest. I saw it. He couldn't be alive!" said Henry.

"I'm going next to door to check on Golda!" said June and Miriam simultaneously.

"Mom, let me see those shells you've got. What was loaded when you went out there?"

"One red one, one green one."

"Mom, the red ones are tear gas. The green ones are rock salt. What did you think you were doing?!!"

"I know. But it's all I had. I'm going over to check on Golda too. Henry, Help Cao. Todd, come with me. We've got to help Golda."

They found Golda lying still behind an upstairs window, her hands still clutching the old Enfield.

Intermission

"This is a fine mess I've gotten us into."

The Suzuki was parked in a carport near the apartment of an acquaintance of Tom's in Santa Clarita. Presumably the person was not at home, his space being empty and nobody answering the door. Tom was debating the advisability of breaking into the apartment.

The previous night had been a wild ride. After fleeing the refugee camp, they had bounced across country with no lights on, in the general direction of the freeway. Then they turned south to parallel it, using dirt tracks and streets where possible. At one point they were forced to pull onto the freeway shoulder briefly to bypass a steep ridge in their path. A pair of linemen's dikes made short work of the freeway fence, later there was a bone jarring descent down a near vertical slope into the Santa Clara dry wash. Since the rear seat had been removed, Ed, who was packed in the rear with the rest of the luggage had to hold on for dear life.

Once in the wash Tom turned east and drove east on the soft sand. The wash was a popular, if illegal, site for off road vehicles and he hoped that his tracks would be lost in all the others, just in case someone was still trying to follow.

"Tom, do you have any idea where we are?"

"Sure do Paul. I know this country well. I used to go off-roading here all the time, back before I became successful.

"I wish sometimes I'd never gone into business for myself. It made me miss out on too many important things in life. I missed too much of my children growing up. I lost touch with my wife. It got me into politics. It got me four hundred miles from home when a national disaster hit with the whole goddamn US Army between me and mine.

"Success sucks. Duty sucks. My duty to my family should have come first. That is what's important in life. My family is a far more important legacy to leave to the world than any damn political victory."

Paul and Ed knew better than to argue with Tom when he was in this mood. And God help any fool who stood in Tom's way home.

As they were passing under a power line with an empty light industrial complex on the south river bank. Ed said, "It's getting light out. If we want to lay low for the day, we'll need a place to park"

"Right." Tom spun the wheel to the right and suddenly they were crashing up a barely visible track leading up the embankment. It emptied into the power line right of way. "We should be able to follow this right over the hills and into the Valley. We're almost there now."

"Uh, Tom, look at your gas gauge." Ed had noticed the needle was far below the empty line. All the recent four wheeling had drained the last of the tank very quickly.

"Oh shit! Can't anything go right?" Tom slammed on the brakes and skidded to a halt on the dirt, killing the engine.

"Cool it Tom. We've been at this all day and all night, stressed out every step of the way. We need to go to ground, rest. They may be looking for us. If they are, they'd see us for sure on that trail during the day. You can't outrun a helicopter and we've heard a number of them, fortunately none directly overhead."

"I'm beat too." Ed was lifting a suitcase and a water carrier off his legs. For him, "beat" was meant literally.

"You're right. Can't make good decision when you're exhausted, sleepy and hungry. I have an employee who lives near here. We can probably hide out there." Soon they found themselves in the aforementioned carport.

"If he left when things started looking bad, maybe he won't mind us breaking in?"

"Ed you're a dreamer. More than likely he's off in his Jeep, looking for gas or supplies. We can only hope. But I'm no burglar. I'll sleep in the car seat before I'll break and enter."

"That's all good and well for you to say but I don't have a seat.

"You and your penny pinching streak. On a state Senator's wages, why couldn't you have bought a Suburban. Or at least a Cherokee?"

"I was saving the money. Hoping to take a lo-o-o-o-ng vacation, pack the kids off to camp, have the second honeymoon to end all honeymoons. Something left over for retirement. Now it's all gone. Everything I have ever done is gone. One stinking flash and it's history."

Paul could see that this conversation was going nowhere but downhill. "Guys, lets just get out of the car and check around. If nothing else, we can go into the pool area or the laundry area and get cleaned up. Maybe your employee is just a heavy sleeper and we can try later in the morning. After we clean up, you guys can get some shuteye in the car while I walk around a bit."

A quick inspection of the area showed few signs of activity. The residents were still inside at 6 in the morning. With gas and water pressure thankfully still available, the men washed up and shaved in the laundry room. It was decided to be advisable to change clothes just in case someone was looking for them. It might make them just a little less recognizable. Now they looked like three businessmen, sans the ties. Tom and Ed put the front seats back and passed out in the small car almost instantly while Paul went for a long stroll.

It had seemed like only minutes, but it was really two hours later when Paul woke the two men up. "Wake up sleepy heads. Tom, your employee friend is home."

"Huh??"

"Saw him slip over from another apartment just few minutes ago. Big smile on his face. Must have a girl friend."

"Now-a-days could be a boy friend. His name is Wilcox, Joe Wilcox. He's my customer support guru. Let's go hit him up for sack space."

Joe Wilcox had indeed spent the night with a girl who had seemed rather in need of reassurance. He'd being trying to get close to her for months and had managed to build up a reasonably cordial relationship, but somehow had never gotten a spark going. This little power outage had generated just the spark he'd needed. When he heard the knock at the door, he had assumed it was Jennifer....

"Don't look so horrified. I'm not here to fire you."

"Hello Mr. McArthur. I thought you were someone else."

"I can imagine. Joe, I'd like you to meet Paul Marlin and Ed Parsons. We're on our way back to LA, but it doesn't seem to be practical right now. We were wondering if we could crash here a few hours."

"Uh..., yes sure, er, no problem."

Tom's eyes shot like a laser to a desk in the living area. "You have a PC running."

"Uh, yes..."

"How did it survive?"

"Uh..., survive?"

"You know that almost all the electronics plugged into the power grid, the phone lines or any significant conductor was fried when the power went. Even some cars with electronic ignitions have been affected."

"Uh, no...."

"Oh. I see. you have an uninteruptable power supply. That would insulate you from the EMP. And keep you up for quite a while after the power went down. It has a surge suppresser built in for the modem line too. Wouldn't know if the modem is zapped anyhow until we run a modem test on it 'cause the phone lines are down. At least if it is gone, it didn't take the PC with it."

"Uh...EMP???"

"Yeah. There was a high altitude nuclear explosion yesterday at about ten AM. Created the mother of all electromagnetic pulses. Don't know who did it. Maybe the Chinese. Maybe the Russians. Maybe we did it to ourselves....

"Uh... nuclear explosion?!" Joe was beginning to turn white.

"As bad we got it here, it must have been ten times worse in Texas. The worst EMP would be just south of surface zero. We might get hit any time now with a follow-up. This might be the beginning of World War Three and we could all be dead in a few minutes."

"World War Three?!" Joe looked and sounded like he was going to need some reassurance himself.

"Yes, it could be the end of everything. We all need to be near the ones we love right now."

"Uh... excuse me. I gotta go. Make yourself at home." With that, Joe slipped out door and headed to Jennifer's apartment.

"Poor kid. Didn't have the heart to tell him someone stole his jeep."

"You're cruel."

"Not so. He gets to have some more fun with his girl, this time in earnest. We get this place to ourselves for a while. You heard the man. Make yourself at home.

Within minutes they were all in a shallow and troubled sleep, on the sofa, on a recliner and on the floor. Nightmares plagued the three of them. Tom's were particularly gruesome and involved large numbers of chain saw wielding federal agents, each with a different random combination of three scarlet letters on his jacket. By noon it became too hot to sleep comfortably and Tom awoke first, still groggy.

Joe and his girlfriend sat at the table, looking at Tom for all the world like two lost puppies.

"What do we do now?" asked Joe.

What indeed! Tom had been puzzling over that very issue. Even if things got better, they would never be what they were. If things got worse, and they could get much worse, it could mean an end to civilization. A new dark ages. Just what does one do when faced by this?

You endure.

"For now you should wait. You can't know what the future holds in store. Hold on to those who are close to you. Friendship and love are worth more than all the money in the world. Right now they are in mighty short supply.

"Has either of you got any other place to go besides here, somewhere more rural, maybe with family or friends?"

"No my family is all in Los Angeles. Jennifer's is in New York. I don't have any real friends outside of LA."

Tom sighed. How many others had stories just as bad or worse? Millions? What would become of them? Internet support technicians were not likely to be terribly much in demand. Were this boy's skills, who had studied the arcane arts of computer networking and trouble shooting, now obsolete? Was Tom McArthur obsolete?

Maybe for now, but Tom had resources and connections. His wife had a skill that would always be in demand. While not primitive by any means, he had grown up in a world where mechanical and physical skills were important and manual labor not something to be ashamed of. He was adaptable and could adjust to almost anything.

But what about Joe? He was in for the school of hard knocks. The most strenuous manual labor he'd ever done was a game of Nintendo. And Jennifer? Somehow she didn't quite seem a "take no prisoners" type, like Lynn. A pretty girl like her would seek and find someone strong in whatever new society emerged to look out for her. If she had valuable skills to trade, it would be so much the better for her.

"This won't last forever. Eventually we'll have a return to normalcy of sorts and you'll be able to contact your parents. Or it will all go to hell in a handbasket and life or death will be a coin toss. Either way is a kind of resolution."

Listening to himself, Tom could not believe how depressing he sounded.

The three men decided to spend the day near the apartment and do a little scouting around. The local radio station was playing the ECS messages and little else. Occasionally military vehicles would pass by. Nobody had any way to know whether there was an ongoing search for them or if it was just normal military traffic, so they decided to lay low until night time. Besides, it was difficult to get worked up with enthusiasm over a cross mountain trek in 105 degree heat.

Joe and his girl were useless as sources of information about the local situation. They lacked the essential curiosity that would have led them to investigate what was going on around them. When he learned his jeep was missing, Joe had gotten hysterical, even to the point of wondering if he had parked it somewhere else and walked home the previous day

Paul had twiddled with his portable short-wave and strung out a hundred feet of wire for an external antenna. (Tom didn't know where the wire had come from and wasn't about to ask.) As the apartments got hotter in the afternoon heat, people came outside to cool off as best they could next to the pool. They were drawn to the news on the BBC like a magnet, it being the first real information of the outside they'd gotten.

"It was China." Tom announced this suddenly, to nobody in particular. Faces turned to him questioningly.

Paul asked him, "What makes you so sure of that?"

"Our previous president crawled completely into bed with the Chinese. Cut them deals no president has a right to cut. Then Simpson takes office. First he reverses the policy on Taiwan. Then he kicks them out of Long Beach. The they lose "most favored" trade status. He was turning up the heat on them for their forced abortions, their discrimination against religion in general and Christianity in particular. Then he raked 'em over the coals in the UN on Tibet. Tried to get the Dali Lama a seat for Tibet.

"Even if he was a fascist and a wannabe dictator, he did have his good points.

"The Chinese leadership decided they were tired of waiting. It was easier to bring us down to their level than to catch up to us, so they did it. Probably the most rash act in the entire history of China. They may have only spent a decade planning it.

"What about Russia? Western Europe? India?"

Tom was almost in a trance as he continued to speak. "Russia secretly wants to become just like the West. There are too many Communists left to let reform happen but not enough to force something of this magnitude.

"Western Europe's economy is in shambles. Only England or France could have done it but they've nothing to gain from it. The are richer with us around than with us gone. Neither of them wants the flak that comes with being the world leader. None of them will take up the burden of western man. They are timid and just want to bask in the glory days of old.

"India needs our wheat. India will be starving soon. War with Pakistan may come very soon simply as a way of killing off the excess Indians.

"Of the other nuclear powers, the Pakis don't have the launch or the bomb technology and the Israelis could face an attempt at genocide again if the Arabs think we are too busy to respond. It won't succeed, but Israel may get scared badly enough to preempt with nukes any Arab countries stupid enough to rattle their sabers.

"It was China all right. Simpson will discover it soon enough. Then God help us all if he isn't as clever as he thinks he is."

At that moment several trucks and a humvee pulled up in front of the complex. Troops began disembarking.

Tom urgently whispered "Quick, Paul, hide the short-wave. Joe, get to your apartment. Hide your PC and UPS."

Paul unplugged the antenna and quickly stepped out of sight. Joe sat there with a confused look on his face.

"Quick. Get your PC and UPS and hide it. Unless you want it commandeered. Ninety nine percent of the computing power in the country is gone. Dead. The government will be seizing all the functioning assets it can find."

"Uh... I don't know what I should do."

Tom gritted his teeth and forced down the urge to throttle this idiot. This idiot represented a large portion of the population, most of whom probably voted against him in the election. If he and Ed had just slipped off with Paul instead of him trying to help this fool, then they might not have been seen. But now it was too late for that. A cammo clad man with an M-16 was looking right at them.

"Just stay here and do exactly as the man tells you."

"Okay."

A civilian, wearing khakis and a dark blue baseball cap with FEMA printed on the front and back, disembarked with the soldiers and strode towards the assembled people at the pool. For a heart stopping moment both Tom and Ed feared it was the same one from their earlier encounter, but this one was too short and skinny. Besides, he showed no visible damage on the left side of his head.

"Howdy folks. I'm Chris Avery, your local FEMA rep. In view of the emergency we're going to have to ask you folks to relocate, at least temporarily, up to Castaic Lake. It will be much easier for us to provide you food and water.

"Your property here will be watched and protected. We'll need a copy of your door key, please."

Tom decided to take a chance and did a little probing. "I'm not sure I want to go up there right now. I saw a heck of a cloud of smoke up that way this morning. A wildfire could be real dangerous. Everything is as dry as tinder."

A cloud passed momentarily over Chris' face, then lifted. "I assure you the fire has been put out. We had a little disorder up there, with people running away from the fire and all, but things are back to normal again."

As he spoke, troops were knocking on doors and looking through unlocked apartments. "Now, if you folks would be so kind as to put together an overnight bag, some spare clothes and grab any nonperishable food you might have on hand, we can get this under way."

There was some general discussion and a few protests, but the man from FEMA was polite, but adamant. The armed soldiers pounding on the apartment doors certainly lent a certain amount of psychological weight to his orders. After about an hour the residents were rounded up, put on the trucks and driven off to the camp. Tom encouraged everyone to remain calm and obey instructions. This was not a good time nor a good group to foment rebellion with. Paul was not to be found among the internees.

"If they ask us to go to the showers" said Tom to Ed, "I'm running like hell."

They were trucked to the same site as before. A new command tent had been set up in the middle of a burnt clearing. They were processed through in a similar fashion as before, except there were fewer military clerks and more civilian clerks present. The clerks also seemed friendlier somehow. There were units of MPs and separate units of local police, mostly sheriff's deputies, with the MPs staying in the background and the deputies dealing with the civilian population. Tom mused about whether there had been a change of management.

After being handed numerous questionnaires to which neither man gave accurate answers, the group from the apartment complex was led to a cluster of recently erected tents and instructed to make themselves home. Tom and Ed had picked out two adjacent cots to rest on and were discussing the merits of Tom trying to play his Senatorhood in an effort to get out of there versus simply sneaking out. The front tent flap opened up and a voice called out, "Thomas McArthur? Senator Thomas J. McArthur?"

"I guess it's been decided for me." Tom muttered to Ed. "You stay here and look for a way out. If I don't come back by tomorrow morning, get out of here. Try to rendezvous with Paul if you can find him. Get to my family and help them."

Ed began to protest, but Tom shushed him.

"I am Senator McArthur and I am a little unhappy about how I have been treated down here." Maybe the offended, self important, governmental PooBah was the role to play here. Something FEMA would understand.

"Your presence is required at an inquiry into the origins of yesterday's disturbance." This was spoken by a female civilian of unknown stripe flanked by two MPs with sidearms. "Would you please accompany us to the commander's office."

"I'll be happy to. I have been trying to see the commander since late yesterday evening and I am tired of waiting!"

"Come this way, please." spoke the woman wearily.

She walked Tom perfunctorily across the compound to a portable building just having the finishing touches applied. An air conditioning unit hummed heartily. Stepping inside, the temperature dropped by 20 degrees and Tom felt comfortable for the first time since this morning. He was ushered into a large office in the rear of the building. Behind a metal desk sat an Army general. To his right was a man with "FEMA Regional Director" printed on a windbreaker. To his left was Major Green. Also seated in the room was the FEMA agent with a rather badly bruised left cheek as well as the sergeant and the butterbar from the previous evening.

"Go ahead and sit down, Senator McArthur. I hope this inquiry won't take too long." The general, Swift by his name tag, jabbed a button on a tape recorder. "Let it be recorded that this Board of Inquiry is now back in session, General J. G. Swift presiding.

"Senator, I want you to understand that nobody is on trial here. There will be no oath administered prior to testimony. I understand that you were present when the disturbance began and may have had a small role to play regarding it. To the best of your recollection, what happened from the moment you entered the briefing tent to when you left the compound?"

Tom sensed he was treading on dangerous ground. Not "in session", rather back in session". Without knowledge of what went before, he could not craft the best possible answer. So he decided to play the offended politico some more.

"First of all, I was merely driving south to reach my family after this weird blackout. Then your storm troopers intercepted us at gun point and dragged us off to this gulag. I tried to speak directly with the Commander but was refused, something I am not used to and do not care for.

"Then after filling out your stupid questionnaire, I was herded into your lecture tent with everybody else. Your speaker very basically told us that we were all prisoners here and there would be no opportunity for families to reunite. When someone got unruly about this, rather than try to calm the person down, your FEMA guy got angry. When this person tried to leave, instead of using the minimum force necessary to detain the person, he lost his temper and ordered the sergeant here to shoot the man in the back in front of hundreds of people.

"I don't believe the good sergeant here would have shot, but I spoke out to remind him of the law, just in case. Then your boy here totally lost control of himself and drew on the man with intent to commit murder. Somebody chucked a rock at him, and a good thing too or he'd have splattered the man's brains all over us. A mighty fine PR gesture for a prison camp, but not for what you are trying to do here.

"Then the lights went out and people got scared and started to stampede. And then a fire got started somewhere and everyone went into a total panic. You know how bad wildfires can be out here. People have a real terror of fire when it's so dry. I decided the best thing to do was simply to leave and go visit an employee of mine who lives out here. Or lived, until he got relocated here."

The general leaned forward and spoke, "Lieutenant Prufrock, is that essentially what you remember happening?"

"Yes."

And Sergeant Doolittle, do you remember that as being more or less correct according to your best recollection?"

"Yes sir."

"Then that concludes this inquiry. Thank you for your assistance Senator. I'm sorry you had such a poor experience, but this are completely disorganized around here. There is no way we can get you through to your family, but we may be able to evacuate them up here. We should be able to arrange for better quarters for you, however."

"Thank you General. I appreciate any assistance you can provide me. I have my executive assistant here with me and I would consider it a favor if he could be billeted with me until we have some kind of return to normalcy?"

"That will be no problem. I think we can get you fixed up no later than tonight.

"Then good day General. For all our sakes I hope there are no more unpleasant disturbances in the future." Tom simply stood up and walked and nobody attempted to stop him.

"Lt. Prufrock, Sgt. Doolittle, Agent Smithers. You are all dismissed. Oh, and Smithers; Leave the gun and belt here. You won't be needing it any more." The three men left. General Swift stabbed at the stop button on the tape recorder three times before getting it right."

"For the first time, the FEMA regional rep spoke, "What do you think of our Senator, General?"

"My reports indicate the first time he was through here he was nothing but polite and cooperative until the incident, then he and his two associates vanished without a trace. That is until we picked him up today. Still no sign of his vehicle or the older man, Marlin, some kind of wealthy industrialist. Appeared to the FEMA agent on the scene that he helped calm the nerves of the people being relocated. Besides being a pompous fool, he would appear to be on the up and up."

"Major Green, you are a California native. What do you know of the Senator's politics?"

"I'd say middle of the road with a streak of conservatism. He supported money for disaster preparedness and the national guard. Honest, too. He single handedly brought down the Senate leadership in the Lobstergate scandal you know, and it was only his first term. Very popular man among the electorate."

"Thank you Major Green. You are dismissed to your duties."

Green cast a quick glance at General Swift, who nodded assent, and left. He didn't like taking orders from the FEMA rep, a man whose name he didn't even know and who had no military rank. As soon as his back was turned, he scowled and gritted his teeth. He could have done McArthur a lot of damage by saying what he really thought. The Senator didn't have a conservative streak. It was libertarian. And the buffoon he played today concealed a man of resourcefulness, intellect and integrity. Someone to be reckoned with when this all settled out.

"I think we've bought ourselves a state Senator. A powerful one at that."

"You think he's that easily controlled? We've both seen his FEMA file. Powerful man with sources everywhere, sources we couldn't sniff out. Also independent. Most state politicos are begging to be allowed to join in the realignment. This one doesn't seem interested."

"He's a politician like all the rest. Pompous and self interested. Knows he's important. That's why he is playing hard to get. Had to have been bought and sold many times to get where he was. Billet him out in those apartments where we found him, along with the rest of the local bigwigs we evacuated.

"We have his coin. It's his family. As long as we have them bottled up in the Valley, he ours."

"What if he leaves to go after them?"

"Why should he? When we can pull them out in a heartbeat? He's nice and comfy right here. Besides, what's he going to do? Walk? Send me regular updates on the situation with him. I've got to get back to Mount Weather. I'm a Senator in the shadow Congress, you know."

Tom perused his assigned apartment. It was a luxury version of the one Joe had been in earlier. Paul had mysteriously appeared again. He had driven the car off road and hidden it in some brush before the place was completely cordoned off, then walked back.

"Paul, Ed I'm going to give them two days. If the family isn't out by then, I'm going in after them. Even if I have to walk."

A fine kettle of fish

Lance drifted in and out of consciousness. He was vaguely aware of being awakened to swallow pills and liquids.

During the phase between wakefulness and unconsciousness, he had a recurring dream of being nibbled to death. He was some kind of tropical fish in a tank. Two other fish with the faces of the assistant CIA station chief in Bogota and the Colombian Army liaison (betas by the look of them) kept taking bites out of him. As fast as they bit him, several Vietnamese angelfish would knit him together again and would shove pellets of fish food in his mouth. He wasn't sure how they were able to handle knitting needles with fins, and he wasn't in any shape to ask questions. He just knew he preferred being unconscious to these damn dreams.

Then there were occasional flashes of hot, searing pain. He was bundled into a vehicle and taken somewhere. A smell of antiseptic, a crowd of people. Then back into the car, a tortuous journey with many stops and starts and turns and bumps. The journey finally ended and he was removed from the car. There was much discussion in both Vietnamese and in English as he was carried into a dark room on a makeshift stretcher where he was able to at last drop back into a deep sleep.

To sleep...perchance to dream? Aye, there's the rub!

It's not easy to be the President of the United States. Particularly when an unknown adversary has just set us back fifty years in technology, ruined our economy, left our cities in flames and destroyed the social order. But one has to look on the bright side.

Congress won't be much of a problem any more. Not that they ever were in the past, but now I really have them over a barrel. The military has control over things now and the shadow government that FEMA has been maintaining as a backup for years will substitute for the real thing until Congress sees things my way. Except for the Speaker. He, no doubt, is hoping for something to take out the me and the VP so he can take over. Going to have to do something about him. Maybe the Senate majority leader too.

Those incompetent senile fools in black robes might be dead by now for all I know. Or care. They were now irrelevant.

With the Guard nationalized, the states will be in no position to object. Most of the state folks are trying to get on board with the emergency government realignment anyhow. Still, I'll need quite a few of them to lend legitimacy to my plans. The ones who oppose me will be easy to ship off to Leavenworth with the Speaker.

The people will follow, like good sheep. The minority who protest can be dealt with. There'll be occasional problems, like that dreadful California affair. But dissenters can be demonized to the point where the general populace will form lynch mobs to get rid of them.

FEMA has a list of 6,100 persons deemed essential to national survival. Most of those have been located and safely moved to the over 100 hardened regional FEMA centers for safekeeping. There is another list with about 13 million or so secondary personnel to be protected if possible. Those who live in major urban centers should be evacuated gradually to avoid suspicion and placed in commandeered housing.

Keep the suburbs under control with food and heating fuel. Can't allow the people to disperse into the countryside like locusts. When things recover enough, they'll be needed to send back to work. Not the frivolous work most of them had previously performed but organized work that the nation needed. I'd never get a handle on things with them ravaging the countryside. Otherwise, let the inner cities burn. Nothing but a burden anyhow.

Now was it Russia or China? And how should I respond to either one? And should I throw an EMP round over Europe just to make sure they don't get too far ahead of us?