Nuclear Winter First Strike by Bobby Akart (best fiction books of all time .txt) 📗

“Son, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Dad. I’m fine. Listen, I need to tell you something. Nobody outside Foggy, um, the State Department is aware of this yet. Definitely not the media, okay?”

“Sure. I understand. What’s up?”

“My friend at Defense tells me Pakistan is on a war footing with India. Here’s the thing. The Kashmir region—the disputed borderlands between India, China, and Pakistan—has always been a flashpoint for a war. Overnight, there were tit-for-tat airstrikes across the cease-fire line established by the UN last year. These two have been fighting over the Himalayas for nearly forty years.”

“Son, that sucks, but how does that affect the U.S., or me for that matter?”

“An hour ago, India sent military jets into Pakistan and bombed its nuclear facility at Chashma. Dad, this is two hundred miles into the center of Pakistan from the Indian border. Islamabad is freakin’ pissed!”

“What does that mean, exactly?” asked Hank.

“NSA recon birds indicate Pakistan is repositioning their nuclear-capable, road-mobile ballistic missiles. It could be a bluff, or they could be preparing to retaliate.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. Finally, Hank said, “Bottom line it for me, son.”

“Dad, the president is already on the hot seat for not coming to Israel’s aid after Iran shot first. If Pakistan does the same, and he chooses to stay out of it, this will make us look weak to Russia, China, and the North Koreans. We’ll be vulnerable to attack.”

Hank still appeared uncertain of how that impacted the U.S. or Florida. “Are you suggesting we need to be searching for a bunker?”

“No. Well, maybe. I am saying you need to know where one is. At the worst case, if war breaks out over there and we’re not drawn into it, supply lines and commerce will be disrupted worldwide. It will have a huge impact on everything, including food and gas prices, as well as availability.”

“Okay, son. Listen, I trust you. This is actually the second conversation I’ve had about this in as many days. Let me relay what you’ve said to Mike, and do you have a moment to call your sister?”

“I’m on it, Dad. Listen, you know I don’t like to interrupt you with phone calls. I’ll text if I have solid news, okay?”

“Love ya, Pete,” said Hank.

“I love you, too, Dad.”

The two men disconnected the call. Peter wandered around the lawn and thought of how he might approach his sister. She was not an alarmist and probably had a more level head than he did. He’d just lay out what he knew. It would be up to her and Owen to decide what was best for them and Tucker.

He dialed Lacey’s number and got voicemail. His chin dropped to his chest. He fired off the same text he’d sent his dad, hoping for a quick reply. After several minutes, she hadn’t, and he’d just received a text to report to the Office of Press Operations at the State Department. With a worried look on his face, he ran across C Street, dodging taxis and travelers going about their day, oblivious to the events in South Asia.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Monday, October 21

Driftwood Key

Hank hailed Sonny on the island’s two-way radio system. He told him to find Jimmy, who’d returned from the fishing trip and was on a lunch break. He wanted them to meet at the main house before he sat down alone with Phoebe to place their food and liquor orders.

While he waited for his top employees to arrive, he sat in his office and took a moment to log in to his portal on the First State Bank website. They’d been the Albright family’s bank since 1955 when they first opened an office in Key West. He navigated between the primary business checking account and his personal account.

Hank was a saver, and he’d managed the business well. Although Mike had no part of running the inn, he was an owner by virtue of inheritance. Hank made sure Mike was kept abreast of the inn’s financial affairs. Hank received a fair salary, and Mike received an annual stipend. The two brothers used to joke that Mike’s share was protection money because of his law enforcement career.

He logged out of his accounts and checked his watch. It was almost three. He could hit the branch in Islamorada before it closed at four, or for sure make his way to the drive-thru by five that afternoon. What he planned on doing couldn’t be handled by an ATM machine after hours.

Hank glanced out his office windows in the direction of the beach. He wished Erin hadn’t left with her sisters for Key West like so many others that day. They were interested in seeing what Fantasy Fest had to offer without getting caught up in the madness brought by the larger crowds as the weekend approached. Without giving away Peter’s inside information, he felt the need to talk with her about what he’d learned.

A light tapping at the door interrupted his thoughts. “Mr. Hank, can we come in?”

The door was ajar and then opened slightly. The three faces of the Free family poked through the opening from shortest, Phoebe, to tallest, Jimmy. Hank managed a smile despite his serious mood. He loved them all as if they had Albright blood running through their veins.

“Come in, guys.”

Phoebe led the way with her oversized ledger pulled tight against her chest. She’d used the same Wilson Jones ring ledger system for years. Every January, she’d set it up for the year and filed the previous year on a shelf in the outdoor storage building where cleaning supplies and other housekeeping related items were kept. Nobody entered that storage building without Phoebe unlocking it. She ran a very tight ship.

She took a seat in an armchair in front of Hank’s desk while Sonny and Jimmy sat on the rattan sofa across the spacious room. All three of them had a look of concern on their faces, as it was unusual