Chapter 7-4: Neglected Motion - Dreaming of the President

Jeremy- United States Senate- Night 70

            The drone of the F-35’s was cut short by a stream of bright light and a trail of flame. Jeremy thought he could make out the faint outline of a parachute in the black winter sky, but he couldn’t assume the pilot had survived such a brutal surprise attack. He could imagine the stress of the Canadian government, with a relatively miniscule standing army, a brutal revolution to the south, and too few resources to ensure protection from the west. Jeremy could imagine President Athia desperately pleading for permission to fly planes through Canada, only to hear a stern refusal from the other side of the phone line. And he could imagine the Joint Chiefs urging him to ignore the threats of AA attack. It was too late for negotiations in the New World.

            “What the hell was that?” John yelled, a dark solidity overtaking his features.

            “Stone cold soldier this morning? You should know what that was,” Jeremy mocked, hoping to tease John into snapping out of his PTSD fugue.

            “Did another 35 go down? I swear to God the fuel is burning the jungle quicker than the bombs.”

            Jeremy looked to his cellmate in disbelief.

            “Look at your clothes, John! Tell me where you are!”

            John looked down at his prison garb, rolling the orange fabric in his hands. The stony tension left the muscles of his cheeks and brow, and his bottom lip fell slowly. Certainly assuming he had experienced a hallucination, he crept back into his bunk.

            “It was a 35,” Jeremy whispered.

            John shuffled uncomfortably.

            “I’m not out of favors, John. The Canadians shot down one of our birds. What does that say to you?”

            “I heard you the first time,” John mumbled, sitting up. “They know you’re here, don’t they? Ever since I killed that Major at the Tower, his men’ve been following us, right?”

            “They don’t know that you killed him, but they know where we are, yes. Now that Canada’s attacked us, they’ll waste no time breaking us out,” Jeremy whispered, smiling honestly for the first time in months.

            “I’m not on your side, Jeremy. I’m going to D.C. to break the back of the government, not to help you restore it.”

            “You’ll follow me into the Oval Office as my escort, then push me aside and murder the President?” Jeremy’s smile was replaced with his wide grin.

            “He’s already dead.”

            Jeremy’s smile disappeared, as did his grin. Could John be telling the truth? Had they already lost the war?

            “That’s impossible, there’s no way that fighter would be flying up here if Washington had fallen!” Jeremy began to yell.

            “He died on day one. The New York team couldn’t secure the target with the Secret Service all around, so they fired a bazooka at the President's motorcade. I would say it was a lucky shot, but they knew which car the President and the Senator were in. I heard something about Virginia taking out the VP, too.”

            Jeremy backed against the wall, trying to comprehend what he had heard. The idiot Speaker was in control of the government. He could imagine the fool following every order given by the Joint Chiefs, and he could imagine himself taking the position by force.

            “You’d better have a few favors to lend me. I don't think anyone in Washington is waiting with open arms,” John muttered as he turned to ward the wall.