2030_ The Real Story of What Happens to America - Albert Brooks [23]
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The government was in full crisis mode. President Bernstein ordered half the National Guard to California. Every army base in the western United States sent all available manpower and resources to the coast. He asked General Robert Roscoe, assistant head of the Joint Chiefs, to get to Los Angeles as quickly as possible and coordinate the rescue effort. Bernstein wanted the army to set up as many temporary hospitals, which were really nothing more than large tents, as it had. He wanted them up and running immediately, and even though there wasn’t enough staff for all of them, he felt it was important for the public to see those images.
The first country to offer help was Canada. They sent thirty doctors, over a hundred nurses, and supplies. Mexico also offered assistance. Bernstein had to make a decision about whether he should go to California immediately, but it was felt that it would be best to let the military get its foot in the door and then he would fly out and tour the area. It was such a production to transport the president of the United States, and he didn’t feel Los Angeles needed to give its attention to him at this moment of crisis.
There was another major issue that required him to stay in Washington. In a disaster this size there was always a higher likelihood of trouble from either inside or outside the country. Individuals, even nations, can take advantage of a weakened adversary, so the President ordered the United States on highest alert. Police in other cities were on twenty-four-hour watch for suspicious activities, and the Strategic Air Command went to DEFCON 1, its war footing. America was immediately turned into a no-fly zone: For forty-eight hours all commercial flights were grounded, and it was ordered that anything in the sky would be shot down. Los Angeles was so crippled that even a small attack during this time would destroy it for good.
The President was leaving the Situation Room when John Van Dyke reminded him, “We have the health team all assembled here. Do you want to cancel it?”
“No,” said the President. “Make it for later, but don’t cancel. This isn’t exactly the health issue I wanted to talk about, but their advice will be important. Make it after lunch. Feed them, show them around, take them to the zoo, whatever you have to do, but give me a few hours to deal with this. Why don’t you make it for three o’clock?”
“Yes, sir.”
The President returned to the Oval Office and just watched the screens as they displayed devastation never seen before. At least this wasn’t my fault.
* * *
Kathy Bernard and Brian Nelson were sitting in her home in Indianapolis, watching the disaster. “I’ve always hated Los Angeles,” Brian said. “A bunch of rich perverts. They deserve it.”
Normally Kathy would correct him when he made those kinds of gross generalizations, but this was the last thing on her mind. All she could think about was her dad. “It’s not fair,” she said. “He was trying to make his payments. He’s still young, compared to all those fucking boomers who won’t die. Why should we pay the health care for someone who has already had ninety years of life and not my dad?”
“I’m with you,” Brian said. “I say kill all those old fuckers.”
They went back to watching the earthquake. Kathy felt a bit selfish watching such devastation and thinking only about her own problems, but to her a $350,000 debt was the same thing as a 9.1.
* * *
The watch on Dr. Mueller’s wrist lit up. It was his assistant in Florida.