Red Hammer 1994

There was a gush of emotion at the other end. “Mr. Secretary, I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you’re alive.” Alexander leaned against the wall. His voice dropped in tone, the words coming slowly.

“Have you heard about the vice president?”

McClain was silent for a moment. Alexander was ill prepared for his reply. The general’s delivery was steady.

“Yes, sir, we received word directly from NEACP. They had comms with Air Force Two before it went down. The battle watch has located the speaker. He’s demanding that his plane be diverted immediately. He’s outraged that he hasn’t been sworn into office yet. Seems the officials escorting him are requiring definitive proof that the president and vice president are dead before they administer the oath of office. He says they’re stalling on purpose. Those were his words. His aides are pushing for him to can all of you. It’s going to be a fucking mess, Mr. Secretary, no doubt about it.”

Alexander’s shoulders sagged visibly. He slumped into a nearby folding chair, tapping the phone in the palm of his free hand. Any hope of a smooth transition was crumbling. A bitter political struggle could unravel everything.

An elderly member of the House from the rural Midwest, the speaker ruled the House of Representatives with an iron fist. He had been a member of Congress for so long that people had trouble remembering what he had done previously in life. He had been a critic of the military his entire life, and now he stood on the threshold of being elevated to the presidency. Alexander blanched at the thought.

Alexander chewed on McClain’s heads-up, balancing fact and emotion. CINCSTRAT, like the other senior commanders, had received special attention from the speaker of late, the gentleman taking delight in dismantling significant portions of the US military. The speaker, like others of his ilk, still smarted over the maltreatment during the years of the Reagan fiscal steamroller. Alexander had softened the harshest hatchet blows.

Shoring up his defenses, Alexander accepted the inevitable. Thomas, Bartholomew, and the others huddled around.

“When do you estimate he’ll arrive, General?”

“Hard to say. Best guess is after 0300. He’s scheduled to land short of your location and then be heloed to the camp.”

“Do you have comms with the speaker’s plane?”

“Through NEACP.”

“For some reason we haven’t raised NEACP yet.” Alexander paused. It was time. “The speaker is to be sworn in as president immediately. On my direct order. Pass the word through the battle watch commander on NEACP.”

McClain’s torrent of cursing over the circuit was drowned out by an outburst from Bartholomew. The overweight general lost control.

“You can’t do that, Mr. Secretary!” he shouted. “Our military will collapse. The man has no idea what he’s doing. He’s a fool.”

Alexander stood calmly and faced the angry man. In the dim light, his black eyes burned. “We’ll discuss later what I can and can’t do,” Alexander replied sharply. He put the phone back to his ear.

“General McClain, did you hear me?” he asked rhetorically.

McClain didn’t hesitate this time either. “Our forces will be put at grave risk, Mr. Secretary. You can’t stop something like the SIOP without catastrophic effects. The bombers can’t be recalled at this point, they’d be annihilated. I need time, at least three days.”

Alexander let out a sigh. “General McClain, you’re speculating. What do you propose, that I declare myself president?” he answered sarcastically.

“That’s not what I meant, sir; it’s just the timing.”

Ironically, that had been Alexander’s original thought. But no matter what the strategic value, it was wrong. “I understand your concerns, but pass the order, now.” He added the last word with special emphasis.

Alexander unceremoniously tossed the handset and walked to the back of the trailer. He plopped down on a bench, resting his elbows on his thighs. Bartholomew bore down for another round. He prudently waited until Alexander glanced up before speaking. Thomas was ready to hit the man.

“You can reverse your decision, Mr. Secretary; it isn’t too late,” Bartholomew said, pleading. “We don’t have proof that either the president or the vice president is actually dead. An investigation could be conducted. That’s reasonable under the circumstances.”

A look of disgust spread across Alexander’s face. He shook his head in annoyance and incredulity.

“General, this isn’t the time for legalisms.”

“No, but…”

“General Thomas, what does the NUDET data show?”

“Two detonations over Washington, on the Virginia side of the Potomac.”

“Well, General?”

Bartholomew retreated, muttering under his breath. “The CINCs will be furious; you’re going to have a rebellion on your hands.”

“What?” shouted Alexander, jumping to his feet. He had endured enough. “The CINCs will follow orders, just like you!” Alexander turned and grabbed General Ogden by the sleeve.

“Tell Secretary Genser we’ll meet in fifteen minutes.”