corridor that led to Abrams’ private dining room.
President Ellen Abrams waited until they were alone before she answered. ‘It’s not good, Mark. It’s not good at all.’
Cole wasn’t surprised; he wasn’t called in unless something was very badly wrong.
‘Thank you for your work with Haynes and the AU, by the way,’ Abrams said. ‘Noah tells me that the bureau will be able to wrap up the entire organization before Christmas.’ Noah Graham was the Director of the FBI, and the man directly responsible for countering homegrown terrorist groups such as the AU.
Cole nodded. ‘A nice present for someone.’
Abrams smiled. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘A very nice present indeed.’ She tapped a manila folder on the large desk between them. ‘But we now have something far more serious to deal with, I’m afraid.’
Cole knew the basic outline of the situation after reading the papers and magazines on the flight from Tucson, and in his experience such media outlets could often be more reliable than professional intelligence reports.
There had been some sort of coup in the People’s Republic of China, a general named Wu De was now proclaiming himself Paramount Leader, both Tsang Feng and Fang Zemin were presumed dead – probably by Wu’s own hand – and the entire Tsang government was now imprisoned in an unknown location while Wu’s own men took control of the country.
Cole had been horrified to find out what had been going on over the past couple of days; it was truly a nightmare scenario, made all the worse by what had happened in the East China Sea.
The Gerald R. Ford had been incapacitated by a missile strike from China, and was now listing, helpless, off her coastline. The papers had been unclear about rescue attempts.
‘What’s going on with the Ford ?’ Cole asked.
Olsen shook his head sadly. He was a big man, cramped by the small room, and Cole felt sorry for him – as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, he was directly responsible for the US military, which included the Ford . He knew the man would be dying to lash out and strike at something, but couldn’t; not yet anyway. The waiting must be killing him, Cole guessed, and the lines etched over Olsen’s craggy face just confirmed it.
‘Damage report isn’t promising,’ he said. ‘The missile did major damage to the rear portion of the ship, completely taking out the propellers. She can’t move, and she can’t fly her aircraft. Watertight compartments were sealed off immediately, but we’ve lost two hundred and fifty-six men and women – so far. Medical personnel are struggling to cope with the nearly six hundred other casualties that have resulted from the impact. Wu and the new Chinese government have refused to allow us to unload the casualties, so onboard medical personnel have to deal with the problem alone for now. And then there’s the desalination plant.’
Cole raised an eyebrow – as an ex-Navy SEAL, he knew about ships, and how important the desalination plant was, especially to one the size of the Ford . Without it, there would be no useable drinking water, a threat almost as serious as another hit by the Dong Feng .
‘The plant should be producing four hundred thousand gallons a day,’ Olsen said. ‘That’s what’s needed for a crew the size of the Ford ’s. But it appears to have been damaged by the blast, and even with repairs is now incapable of treating more than fifty thousand gallons, eight times less than she needs. Captain Meadows has everyone rationed, showers are banned, they’re doing everything they can to conserve water, but – well, the bottom line is that things aren’t good.’
‘The members of the crew are hostages, in effect,’ Abrams said. ‘Wu denies that the missile was fired on purpose, claiming that it was a training error, and at the moment we can’t prove otherwise. But at the same time, Wu has issued notice that we are invading his territorial waters, and has told the rest of the Ford
President Ellen Abrams waited until they were alone before she answered. ‘It’s not good, Mark. It’s not good at all.’
Cole wasn’t surprised; he wasn’t called in unless something was very badly wrong.
‘Thank you for your work with Haynes and the AU, by the way,’ Abrams said. ‘Noah tells me that the bureau will be able to wrap up the entire organization before Christmas.’ Noah Graham was the Director of the FBI, and the man directly responsible for countering homegrown terrorist groups such as the AU.
Cole nodded. ‘A nice present for someone.’
Abrams smiled. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘A very nice present indeed.’ She tapped a manila folder on the large desk between them. ‘But we now have something far more serious to deal with, I’m afraid.’
Cole knew the basic outline of the situation after reading the papers and magazines on the flight from Tucson, and in his experience such media outlets could often be more reliable than professional intelligence reports.
There had been some sort of coup in the People’s Republic of China, a general named Wu De was now proclaiming himself Paramount Leader, both Tsang Feng and Fang Zemin were presumed dead – probably by Wu’s own hand – and the entire Tsang government was now imprisoned in an unknown location while Wu’s own men took control of the country.
Cole had been horrified to find out what had been going on over the past couple of days; it was truly a nightmare scenario, made all the worse by what had happened in the East China Sea.
The Gerald R. Ford had been incapacitated by a missile strike from China, and was now listing, helpless, off her coastline. The papers had been unclear about rescue attempts.
‘What’s going on with the Ford ?’ Cole asked.
Olsen shook his head sadly. He was a big man, cramped by the small room, and Cole felt sorry for him – as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, he was directly responsible for the US military, which included the Ford . He knew the man would be dying to lash out and strike at something, but couldn’t; not yet anyway. The waiting must be killing him, Cole guessed, and the lines etched over Olsen’s craggy face just confirmed it.
‘Damage report isn’t promising,’ he said. ‘The missile did major damage to the rear portion of the ship, completely taking out the propellers. She can’t move, and she can’t fly her aircraft. Watertight compartments were sealed off immediately, but we’ve lost two hundred and fifty-six men and women – so far. Medical personnel are struggling to cope with the nearly six hundred other casualties that have resulted from the impact. Wu and the new Chinese government have refused to allow us to unload the casualties, so onboard medical personnel have to deal with the problem alone for now. And then there’s the desalination plant.’
Cole raised an eyebrow – as an ex-Navy SEAL, he knew about ships, and how important the desalination plant was, especially to one the size of the Ford . Without it, there would be no useable drinking water, a threat almost as serious as another hit by the Dong Feng .
‘The plant should be producing four hundred thousand gallons a day,’ Olsen said. ‘That’s what’s needed for a crew the size of the Ford ’s. But it appears to have been damaged by the blast, and even with repairs is now incapable of treating more than fifty thousand gallons, eight times less than she needs. Captain Meadows has everyone rationed, showers are banned, they’re doing everything they can to conserve water, but – well, the bottom line is that things aren’t good.’
‘The members of the crew are hostages, in effect,’ Abrams said. ‘Wu denies that the missile was fired on purpose, claiming that it was a training error, and at the moment we can’t prove otherwise. But at the same time, Wu has issued notice that we are invading his territorial waters, and has told the rest of the Ford
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