Chapter 22
President Morgan was at her wits end. Her country was falling apart around her and she was trapped in an airport hangar in Minneapolis with no way of getting back to Washington. Her pilot had deserted her along with the larger portion of her staff and while those that remained behind were loyal, they were useless in her current battle to try and get the United States back on its feet.
Her chief of staff, Gregory Havisham was out on the tarmac making calls to the army and those who were still working back at the White House. She was receiving updates on the riots and looting almost every fifteen minutes, with the situation spiraling out of control faster than she could believe and not nearly enough boots on the ground who were willing to try and stop it. Washington’s own police force had been cut down by about seventy percent, with the emergency services almost nowhere to be seen in the city. Brick by brick the place was coming down and President Morgan felt like she was utterly powerless to stop it.
Ten minutes has passed since she had hung up the phone with the leader of China, Li Jun Wang Yong, desperately trying to garner some support from his nation. President Morgan had bartered with her country’s oil and gold reserves, but neither had even tempted the leader of China, the man resilient in his refusal of aid. Over the years the United States’ relationship with China had soured, the debt mounting between their nations far greater than what could ever be repaid. That was what Li Jun Wang Yong had used against President Morgan as she bargained for his help, responding point blank that if there was no way the original debt could be repaid, there was no chance they were going to increase that figure, no matter how much oil and gold could be gifted in return.
Trident’s collapse hadn’t just crippled the American economy, it had destroyed the global financial systems for almost every major nation. China was perhaps the only country unaffected by the ordeal, keeping their trade circles much smaller and tighter than that of the United States and many countries within Europe. President Morgan knew that China had likely been their last real chance, but she still had one more call to make. America still had a few friends left inside the European Union, and she was determined to call on each and every one of them, no matter how futile the process seemed. As her hand hovered over the receiver, a sudden knock on the jet’s door saved her for a few moments longer.
“Gregory,” President Morgan looked up at her chief of staff as he walked onto the plane, shaking his head apologetically to show that he didn’t come with good news before he even opened his mouth. “What’s going on?”
“It’s not good ma’am,” the man replied. “Our resources are more than half what they should be in Washington and we’re receiving further reports that other major cities are going down the same way. Half of Chicago is in flames and in New York, thousands of people have taken to the streets outside where the Trident Building used to be, demanding justice from that man who gave the public statement.”
President Morgan sighed. She had seen the news broadcast just like everyone else and couldn’t comprehend why this mysterious man who claimed to work at Trident had told everyone the truth about their money. The truth rarely brought anyone any comfort. That was something she had learned over the years: no matter how much the public thought they wanted to know everything; they were much better off being spoon fed information that had been pre-approved by a board of specialists. The biggest problem with most disasters was how humanity reacted to it; people had the power to either make or break a situation, it was a shame that more often than not they chose the latter option.
Poverty was going to be given a whole new meaning in the coming months. America didn’t have nearly enough food banks to support the vast number of people who would be relying on them now – though what worried the President more was how they were going to supply food to those food banks. They didn’t have the manpower to keep running the slaughterhouses or sowing the crops, unless the citizens of America realized they needed to go back to their jobs soon to keep the country alive, there was going to be a serious shortage.
That was why they desperately needed support from someone, President Lebedev in Ukraine her last chance at being able to stop her country from devolving overnight. “Are we making progress anywhere?” President Morgan asked her chief of staff, desperate for even one tiny piece of good news from him.
Gregory Havisham shook his head. “I’ll keep trying ma’am. I assume we’ve not had anything come through from our friends overseas?”
“I have one more call to make,” the President replied. “To President Lebedev.”
“Ah,” Gregory’s face said it all. He knew the call was unlikely to go well, but much like President Morgan, he was aware they didn’t have any other choice. America had been brought to its knees by this collapse. They were at the mercy of whoever chose to take advantage of them and both Gregory and President Morgan knew that now was the time when they were at their most vulnerable. No stone should be left unturned in the hope for aid, no matter how painful they were to lift. “I’ll leave you to it ma’am. Call me if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” President Morgan nodded, her heart sinking as Gregory closed the door behind him and left her once again alone with the phone. She couldn’t
