Storm Unleashed

Chapter 2

Chapter 2“MR. PRESIDENT, we know where the nukes and the launching areas are,” the secretary of defense said. “There's no indication they're trying to move the bombs, at least not yet.”

The secretary of state said, “The parade is about to begin. The usual crowd is out, and the square is full. They're in high-level show-off mode, sir.”

“What I have to decide is what to say and when,” said the president. “The missile worked. But that's the first one that has, and we don't know its full range. It's not a threat at the moment, and I'm not going to push a national panic button.”

“Mr. President, wait for a regular press conference and questions. Still, we should move some ships closer.” The president held up his hand and looked around the table.

“John, have you spoken to the Chinese yet?” the president asked the secretary of state.

“Not yet, sir. I've called their ambassador, and I've called the foreign minister. I couldn't get through to either. I think they're still determining their response, particularly to us.”

“Here's my thought,” the president said. “In his next press briefing, Mac should say only that we're evaluating the situation. When we reach the Chinese and the Russians, then maybe I'll have a press conference next week. Tuesday or Wednesday.”

“Mr. President, I think you should be visible on this. And it should be immediate,” said the secretary of defense. “Show you're on top of the situation and will have more to say when we've gathered more information. Leave it at that. If you wait, the hawks will get to the media first.”

“They're already at it, Charlie. The usual suspects interrupted their Christmas dinners to take shots at the president.”

The meeting lasted until 10:30, with no final resolution. The president said he wanted to consider the options. Adjourning to his office, he went to talk to two people—the First Lady and Dr. Jane Barclay.

“Sorry to disturb Christmas, Jane.”

“No problem, sir. I expected to hear from you.”

The First Lady said, “The regulars are already piling on, hon. You'd think they had a direct feed to Fox.”

The president thought he should make a TV appearance and let the public know that the administration wasn't worried and was making contact with leaders around the world. “Let the country enjoy the weekend. Mac needs to know what I want to do.” The president looked through the window at the glowing top of the Washington Monument and the muted lights around the South Lawn. He dialed his press secretary. “Mac, arrange a statement for as quickly as possible. Tell the networks it will be five-minutes long. No questions.”

“Mr. President, you need to call the leaders before you go on,” Jane said. “We're going to need them with us for the summit. And the Joint Chiefs. You know how General Beech gets.”

* * *

FRITZ AND LINDA were up before seven. Bacon wandered through the house and roused Fritz's parents. John settled in the family room with his coffee and turned on the TV.

“Fritz,” his father called. “The president's talking about North Korea.” Fritz turned off the flame under the bacon and went to watch the report. The president reassured the country that all diplomatic channels were open and that the situation was being monitored. He closed by wishing the country Happy Holidays and said he looked forward to the new year.

“I bet he does,” said Linda, feeding TJ in the doorway. “Only one more year and he's done.”

* * *

EARLY SATURDAY MORNING, phone traffic contained a conversation from California. “Do we have replacements yet for the ones we lost at the school?” He sipped his coffee. “Then see if we can fill the gap with Asians. We need them now. Get as many as you can. Time to rattle cages. We have to prove the president wrong.”

* * *

ALTHOUGH SCHOOL would be closed until after the holidays, Fritz still had work to do. He needed questions for the history baseball tournament his ninth graders were planning. His seniors had outlined a play about a family's trek through the Twentieth Century. Ashley's tenth-grade creative writing students were writing the script. After breakfast, Fritz went back to his laptop to dig for questions.

Since the start of the school year, the teachers had embraced the marked changes from their students. Fritz had happily remarked that using the portal had caused his students to like school more. Far ahead of schedule, the students in all his classes worked harder than ever before, engrossed in the material.

In mid-afternoon, he put his work aside and joined his parents and Linda at the kitchen table. “Welcome back, stranger,” said Linda. “We thought we'd lost you.”

“Sorry. I discovered a new source for questions. These are harder, great for the final rounds. They'll mean low-scoring games. And faster ones.”

“We were talking about how the president's going to handle this,” said Linda.

Fritz changed the subject. “I'm surprised we haven't heard from Ash. I don't think he went with Jane.”

His mother said, “He knows we're here. Maybe he wants you to be able to visit a little.”

Linda said, “Well, visiting is what you should do. I need a shower.”

“Mom, Dad, sorry. Linda's right. I got on a roll. When Ash is here, he helps me remember the questions we've already got.”

“Too bad Ashley's picture of Robert E. Lee disappeared,” said his mother. “Now that would be something to remember. I certainly will.”

“I'm not sure you didn't hire a guy just to fool with us,” his father teased.

Leaning forward, urgency in his widened eyes, Fritz said, “Dad, if you hadn't actually been through the portal, I wouldn't blame you for doubting the story. But you saw it for yourself.”

With a wistful note in his voice, John said, “When you were a kid, you looked like you do now. I'm kidding, Fritz.”

Visiting with his parents killed two birds. He had a chance to enjoy them and gave Linda a break. Until her phone rang.

“What's wrong? Where are you?” she asked.

“Hi, Lin. Merry Christmas to you, too.”

“Ashley, you never call me. What's the matter?”

“Then let's get down to business. I have been instructed to call you, not Fritz, as ancient etiquette and social protocol demand.”

“Oh, shut up. What are you up to?”

“I've spent my day working devilishly hard, and this is the thanks I get?”

She laughed. “I'm going to break your leg.”

“And my reward is pain and suffering.” Linda didn't respond. Melodrama was an Ashley specialty, so she waited. “Are you feeling guilty now?” he asked. “The purpose of my communication is an invitation, for you, your husband, child, and your guests for this evening's repast. You may arrive at my home at seven of the clock.”

“Dinner. You are such a butthead. Why didn't you just say so?”

“Now my efforts bring scorn and ridicule.”

“Have you been reading Shakespeare again?”

“Nope. Been cooking. And cleaning. And preparing. And being insulted.”

“Ash, are you okay?”

“All I'm doing is inviting you guys for dinner. At seven. Why don't you just say yes already?”

“Yes. Is Jane back?”

“Not yet. But she will be.”

“Can we bring anything?”

“No, thank you. However, dress is business casual. Jeans would be inappropriate.”

“What are you up to?”

“Almost six foot three. See you at seven, then?”

Fritz stretched out on the sofa in the family room to watch the TV news. A reporter described the carrier task force preparing to depart for the western Pacific from San Diego. The scene switched to the White House press room, where the press secretary was briefing reporters on the latest information. Fritz sat up when Linda came in. His parents both looked up. She announced that dinner would be at Ashley's.

“What's he up to?” asked Fritz.

“I don't know. We're all invited, and he said business casual. No jeans. Seven o'clock.”

Fritz said, “All my plans—up in smoke.”