The Firestorm Election
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About this ebook
In this short novel, a shocking and unprecedented national crisis has erupted just one week before Americans head to the polls. The incumbent Democratic president has been assassinated by an Iranian national. Although there is no evidence, the government of Iran is quickly accused in the media as the mastermind behind the shooting as an act of retaliation for the severe economic sanctions imposed by the United States. Another stunning setback occurs when the vice-president is felled by a fatal heart attack just hours after taking the oath. Enter the Republican Speaker of the House who becomes the third president in less than a day as the reins of power shift to the GOP. The election must be postponed while the Democrats select a new ticket. Sensing weakness in the caretaker US government, Iran threatens that sanctions must be revoked within days or they will launch an attack in the Persian Gulf to shut down the supply of oil. The world nervously awaits the outcome.
Patrick Yearly
Patrick's latest book is a Christmas short story, "A Lonely Dog on Christmas", narrated by the family bulldog who gets caught up in the calamity of the holiday season. In the summer of 2012, he released "The Firestorm Election" , a short novel to coincide with the 2012 presidential campaign. His other work includes a four-part series, "They Were Giants", to commemorate the unheralded accomplishments of people around the globe who did not seek the limelight, but made the world a better place. He also served as editor for his father's World War II diary, "My Life as a Sailor", which details his service in the Navy while at the scene of the D-Day invasion and other key events of the war.
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The Firestorm Election - Patrick Yearly
THE FIRESTORM ELECTION
By Patrick Yearly
Copyright 2012 Patrick Yearly
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without the express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or incidents, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Chapter 1
The President is dead.
Jonathan Blanchard's head snapped up. Stunned, he could not believe what he had just been told.
What in God's name are you talking about?
The Vice-President felt waves of panic crash over his body, alarmed at the thought of the immense and unexpected pressure that was about to descend upon him.
The President was just hit outside Staples Center in Los Angeles. Single shot to the head from somebody at street level standing in the crowd. He's en route to LA County General, but there's no hope. Roberts with Secret Service radioed from the limo to the White House. I just got off with McIntyre. He's gone.
How in hell could this possibly have happened with all of that damned security around him all the time? This is just too much. There's an election in a week. What are we supposed to do now?
Blanchard gave his chief of staff, Steven Hesch, a look of near desperation.
First of all, let's calm down and talk this out. You've got to take the oath as soon as you can and we need to get you back to Washington. The country needs to see you acting strong and decisive and they need to see it fast. The news is already around the world and it's only been a few minutes.
Before we start talking about an oath get me McIntyre now. We're not doing anything until this is official.
Blanchard had traveled to Temple University in Philadelphia to deliver what was anticipated to be a fiery campaign speech in the waning days of a bitterly fought election. The latest poll, released a few hours earlier, showed the incumbent President Benito Olivas tied with his Republican opponent, Michael Ryan. Coming into the heart of urban America, the message was to encourage a feeling of hope for the future. As the country's first minority president, a second Olivas term would fulfill his pledge of meeting the needs of all Americans, a promise that now lie shattered in the back of a Cadillac DTS racing toward a hospital in southern California.
Hesch handed a secure phone to Blanchard, connecting him with the Director of the Secret Service, Bill McIntyre.
Bill, what exactly do we know right now?
There was a gaping silence of several seconds before McIntyre spoke.
The President got out of the limo for a quick wave to the crowd that was standing behind a barricade. He only does that in LA. You know, he's from there and always wants to connect with the locals. Show everybody that he's still one of them. He's been doing it on every visit to LA the past couple of years. Steps out less than a minute to wave to everyone and doesn't stray from the car. That's always been the agreement. Believe me, I had many discussions with him to stop doing it, but he wouldn't listen. He told me he had to do it, it was just smart politics. We've never had the slightest problem before, if we had I think he would have agreed to shut it down. He had them stop just before they were going to turn into the arena entrance. He was only out for a few seconds and there was a pop sound. He hit the ground like a ton of bricks. Solid hit right into his skull. Just one shot. Shooter then turned the gun on himself on the spot. He's dead too. It happened so goddamned quickly we didn't have time to react. President was dead when they pulled him back into the car. No pulse, nothing. They should be arriving at County-USC any minute now. Roberts will call me the second he gets official confirmation from the hospital that he's gone.
Back up for a second. How far away was the assassin? I'm having a hard time understanding this. And what about the President? How can they be certain he can't be helped? You're Secret Service agents, not doctors.
Blanchard ran his hand through his hair with nervous anxiety.
The assassin was behind a barricade that was about twenty feet away. Normally the President would get out with a better buffer zone. The odds of this happening with that quick of a time frame were a million to one. Nobody knew he would get out at that spot. And for the shooter to be standing right there waiting for him. I still can't believe it. As far as any hope for the President, if there was any chance of survival we'd all be staying as positive as we could. That's not the case here, Sir. He was dead at the scene.
What do you want me to do now?
Blanchard sounded resigned to accepting McIntyre's prognosis.
Where exactly are you?
I'm in the Chairman's office at Temple University. I was supposed to go across the street and deliver a speech where the basketball team plays.
In North Philly? Rough area. I need my people to get you out of there as soon as possible. What the hell are you doing there?
Kennedy spoke here on a Monday in 1960, seven days before the election. Just like today. We thought that giving a speech on the same day would resonate with voters in Philly. We need to carry Pennsylvania to win.
Huh. Kennedy, of all days. How ironic. Just stay put. Unfortunately, I'll be calling you back shortly to let you know how we'll get you back here to the White House.
As soon as McIntyre got off the line, Hesch put through Blanchard's wife, Jane. She was in between speeches in Dayton, Ohio, a key swing state. While they talked, the engines of government began to crank into full throttle. The control tower at Philadelphia International Airport was put on alert to prepare to halt all incoming flights at a moment's notice to allow Blanchard's plane to depart. With a steely determination, the Chief Usher at the White House directed his staff to stand by and be prepared to clear out President Olivas' personal possessions from the Oval Office. A Marine was sent to the roof to get ready to lower the flag to half-mast.
An aide clicked on a nearby television. Blanchard watched the commotion outside Los Angeles County General where reporters angled for position near the emergency entrance. A growing crowd of onlookers milled about, sensing that history was about to unfold another dark chapter. Hesch stepped back into the Chairman's office and stood in front of Blanchard, seated behind a cherry wood double pedestal desk, and deliberately blocked his view.
Mr. President, it's now confirmed. The public announcement will be made momentarily. We need to discuss your options.
Chapter 2
This was an extraordinary idea Steve. The American people will be grateful, and the world for that matter, with the symbolism this is going to represent. It's a critical day for all of us.
Hesch had reminded Blanchard that Independence Hall was only a few miles away, the hallowed ground where the Declaration of Independence had been signed and the United States of America was created. Down through history, no one had ever taken the oath there. Even when Philadelphia served as the capital city in the 1790's, John Adams had been sworn in next door at Congress Hall under much calmer conditions.