[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

be just like urban warfare in a situation made to order for the attacking force.
Priorities has been set already and weren't to Doug's liking, even though they made sense. The science
building where the research staff were both working and living and the treatment facility were first in line
to hold and defend. After those the new security building and the transient apartments were next. The
administrative building was last on the list, the very place where June would be working during the day
and the worst-situated for defense. He tried to keep that out of his mind, but he couldn't help worrying,
especially as the gunfire he had been hearing in the distance began increasing in volume.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
As the impending battle for the CDC was shaping up, President Marshall was attending his combined
intelligence briefing, the one he disliked because of the presence of the vice president. There was nothing
in the constitution or government protocols that forced him to invite Vice President Marlene Santes, but
for all his small minded, provincial and prejudiced attitudes, he did have a sense of duty toward
government that impelled him to keep her at least marginally informed, and this weekly meeting was the
method he chose. The world situation was so dicey that if something happened to him, say a heart attack,
stroke, or but he didn't like to think about the last one. He was perfectly capable of committing troops
to action where many of them might be killed or maimed, but he was a coward at heart. The thought of
combat had kept him from enlisting for a term in the armed forces, even though he had considered it for
political advantage at one time. In the end, it hadn't mattered because he had attained the ultimate prize
anyway. And if the first little sideways approaches to General Newman were an indication, he might
remain in the oval office past the normal two terms. Right now the thought of holding onto power was
little more than fantasy, but perhaps...
He got his thoughts back in order as Vice President Santes entered the briefing room. A sense of duty
might compel him to keep her in the loop in case she had to suddenly take over the reins of government,
but that didn't make him like her any better. She was a symbol of the changing demographic map of the
United States though the map wasn't quite the same now as it had been when he put her on the ticket; a
necessity in order to collect enough of the Hispanic, women and black votes to get into office. Already
some five million blacks in North America were either dead or dying, with at least half that many
Hispanics, and many more of them either ill or falling victim each day. After the Harcourt virus ran its
course, he doubted he would have to use Santes to win election again, though it was too soon yet to
know. Politics was a game of days and weeks, not years.
"Hello, Marlene, how are you this morning? he welcomed her courteously, standing up when she
entered the room, like he had been taught as a child. He thought Marlene appreciated the little courtesy,
although it was hard to tell. She kept her thoughts close to the vest. A fantasy of her naked and
submissive raced through his mind, as it frequently did in her presence. She was quite attractive,
especially so for her age, with no trace of gray in her dark auburn hair and no sign that she might be
dyeing it. Even though she was in her fifties, she still had a slim, curvaceous figure and few wrinkles to her
face. Her dark eyes; bedroom eyes said some pundits, probed at him and he thought she found no fault
with his greeting.
"I'm fine, Mr. President, thank you. She nodded to General Newman, Edgar Tomlin, Lurline Tedd and
Cantrell Willingham, the new secretary of state designate.  Gentlemen, Lurline."
"Shall we get started then? Seeing no dissent, the president turned to the Secret Service agent.  John,
I'm sure we'll be fine, and there are some matters here which don't need to be overheard."
John Dawson nodded and left the Oval Office, his face impassive, but his mind whirling with what he had
already heard over the last weeks. Listening to high government officials, including the president, talk like
that had shaken him. It wasn't unusual to hear lies and idiocy coming from politicians, but this? Maybe he
hadn't been wrong after all, in what he had done when he first heard about the Harcourt virus. But again,
he was just a secret service agent. Who was he to say what was right or wrong in world politics?
The president had used the possibility of a secret service agent being captured by terrorists to arrange for
total privacy when he most needed it. As soon as the door closed behind Dawson, President Marshall
nodded to Tomlin.
"Go ahead, Ed. What do you have for us this morning?"
Tomlin glanced at the door to be sure that it was indeed closed.  I really don't like discussing vital matters
here, Mr. President."
"It's fine, I assure you. This office is as secure as anyplace in Washington."
Tomlin wasn't as certain as the president was; recorders had become so small and unobtrusive they were
hard to spot, even by professionals. Nevertheless, he began.
"First off, the war. There's some good news there. It looks as if the damned J as if Israel did get all of
Pakistan and Iran's nuclear missiles and the bunker busters we sold them took care of that facility
Pakistan had buried so deep under the mountains. They were a little more circumspect with Iran. They
only took out the nuclear weapons facilities and the missiles they knew were armed with nukes, leading
us to believe they intend to send a big commando team in to shut down their uranium enrichment facility."
"Why should they have let Iran off? Vice President Santes asked, still aggravated at Tomlin's
derogatory, almost-voiced remark about Jews.
"It's a little too close to home. I believe they were afraid of fallout, whereas the facility in Pakistan was
pretty well contained and farther from them."
Santes nodded and Tomlin continued.  At any rate, the Isreali Air Force did a remarkable job. The
Middle Eastern states that declared war have no effective air cover left and the Israeli army is doing just
about as it pleases. It appears as if they're not immediately intent on conquering any of the adjoining
countries, but merely pushing the opposing armies back far enough to put their artillery out of range while
the virus they turned loose is creating havoc in the Arab ranks. The CDC projects a very high kill rate for
Middle Easterners carrying the particular gene it's targeting, which by the way, no one has figured out yet.
Smart. They can sit back and take over the neighboring countries after the Arabs are dead with no risk."
"Crazy is more like it, Santes commented.  What could they have been thinking of?"
"Maybe that killing every Arab they can is the only way they'll ever be able to live in peace."
"It won't work. The world will remember what they did once this crisis with the Harcourt Virus is behind
us. If you ask me, they'll be even less secure in the long run simply because of the overwhelming number [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]