Draft cover for my next flash fiction story, "Crush"...

Excerpt from my upcoming story, "The Dark"

Wow!  I guess I haven't been on here for a while...four months went by quickly!

Below is an excerpt (the prologue, actually) for a story I'm working on titled "The Dark".  If you scroll down the blog a little, there's a couple of teaser trailers for it as well.  My original thought was this would be a short story...but who knows, it may turn into a novel.  We'll see.

Give the excerpt a read & let me know what you think!

"The Dark" excerpt copyright © 2014 by Chuck Grossart

Prologue

18 June 2017

Port Columbus International Airport

Columbus, Ohio

The engines were screaming.

Minutes ago, he'd been giving a speech in support of a major campaign contributor, a man who'd secured Ohio's eighteen electoral votes, and in turn, delivered him the Presidency.  He'd seen his Secret Service detail react as one, hands to ears, receiving instructions, then rush onto the stage and surround him.  "Mr. President, you have to come with us," they'd said, with no answers to his questions other than, "You need to get airborne, sir.  Now."

He'd left the crowd in stunned silence, hustled away to his limousine.  The ride to the airport had been rough, weaving through traffic at ridiculous speed, his normal motorcade of security vehicles trying to cut a path ahead through a different route—shorter—than they'd taken earlier.  Cars too slow to get out of the way were forced to the shoulder, or rammed.

Time was of the essence.

And he knew why, now.

"What are the targets, General?"

"Unknown at this point, Mr. President." The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff stared from a screen before him, along with the Secretary of Defense and Secretary of State.

The President gripped the arms of his chair tightly as Air Force One banked hard to the right, its nose seemingly pointed straight up, clawing for altitude.  The cabin vibrated as each of the four massive turbofan engines slung under the wings screamed against their mounts, dragging the massive aircraft into the sky with a combined 227,000 pounds of thrust.

"My family, General.  Are they safe?"  His wife and two children were in Colorado Springs touring a micro-electronics factory. 

"They're being taken to a safe location as we speak, Mr. President, but we don't believe Colorado Springs is being targeted.  At least not yet."

Every President since Truman had dealt with the threat of nuclear war, and his term was no different...but it wasn't supposed to happen.  He glanced at a young Navy Lieutenant Commander, whose name he didn't know, sitting calmly a few feet away with the briefcase chained to his wrist—the nuclear "football".  He'd been briefed on what was in that briefcase, and how to use it, when he first assumed the Presidency, but right now it was all a blur.

This can't be happening.

"We've detected a total of nine launches from their Atlantic boat, sir," the Chairman continued.  "One of their Borei class boomers.  The Yuri Dolgoruky.  We lost track of her a few days ago just west of the Azores..."

For the last few years, Russian ballistic missile submarines had resumed patrols off the east and west coasts of the United States, a move harkening back to the darkest days of the Cold War.  Every morning, he was briefed on their locations.  The saber his Russian counterpart liked to rattle wasn't as large as the old Soviet version, but was still sharp.  "And their Pacific boat?"

"Nothing, Mr. President.  The Alexander Nevsky started her return leg last week, and we've had a fast-attack on her tail the whole time.  The Texas will sink her if she makes a move."

"On my order."

A pause.  "Yes, sir.  On your order."

Two days prior, the Russians had invaded Ukraine, a former Soviet Republic, in response to what seemed to be a manufactured crisis involving Islamist rebels from the North Caucuses.  Imagery showed heavy fighting, but against whom was unclear...the Russians were laying down tons of ordinance—massed artillery barrages, short range ballistic missiles, round-the-clock tactical air strikes—much more than would be expected to combat an insurgency.  To make matters worse, the Russian President had seemingly gone underground—no public appearances, no statements, only a terse announcement regarding the invasion from his Chief of the General Staff.  The normal Russian comms had fallen silent.  Whatever they were doing was being kept completely secret.  Nothing about the Ukranian situation was...normal.  And now, just days later, this happens.  The unthinkable.

Putin ruled Russia with the same heavy-handed dictatorial powers wielded by the Soviet Premiers he'd once served.  The Soviet Union had been dead and buried since 1992, but the corrupt, ruthless spirit that once fueled its rise was still alive and well under the tri-color banner of the Russian Federation.  Vladimir Putin was not a man to be trusted, a fact not lost on this President, who also knew Putin had made quite a few enemies within his own country...including the military.

"Could this be a rogue launch, General?  Possibly an attempt to—"

"Negative, sir."

The President was taken aback by the Chairman's abruptness.  "How can you be so sure?"

"This isn't Hollywood, sir.  Russian sub captains don't go rogue."

Before the President could respond, a tinny, oddly female-sounding voice came through the speakers, resounding through the National Military Command Center—the NMCC—in the bowels of the Pentagon.

Nuclear detonation detected.  Russia.  Nuclear detonation detected.  Russia...

"General...what's happened?"

"Standby, sir.  Checking."

"State...could this be a coup d'état?  I'm not convinced the—"

Before the President could complete his statement, and before the Secretary of State could respond, the Chairman delivered the news no one wanted to hear.

"Mr. President, we've detected three nuclear detonations—check that, four detonations....looks like low yield, non-strategic weapons.  Tactical nukes.  Southwest Russia...near the Ukranian border."

"On Russian soil?  Could the Ukranians have—"

"Make that seven, Mr. President.  Now showing four additional low-yield events in southern Belarus as well."

This was happening too fast.  "General, I need to know exactly what's happening over there, and I need to know right goddam now.  State...could this be a coup?"

"Doubtful, sir," the Secretary stated.  "Putin has had trouble with the eastern military district, but the troops in the west and south are completely loyal...as are their SSBN commanders.  The General is right, Mr. President.  The Dolgoruky's captain launched because he'd been ordered to, and that order had to have come from Putin himself."

The Chairman interrupted.  "Threat fans for the SSBN launches are showing possible targets in northern Ukraine, Mr. President."

"How many warheads?"

"Each of their Bulava missiles can carry six to ten warheads, sir, one hundred and fifty kilotons each.  We're talking anywhere from fifty-four to ninety thermonuclear warheads targeted against northern Ukraine."

"What are they shooting at?  What is located in northern Ukraine?"

"Nothing, sir...it's mostly wilderness, uninhabited ever since the Chernobyl meltdown back in the mid-eighties.  They've been bombing the living hell out of that area since the invasion, Mr. President...it's full of their own troops.  It makes no sense."

"Is there any threat to the United States at this moment, General?"

"No, sir.  You went airborne immediately after we detected the submarine launches, before we could get any clarity on their targets...but as of right now, there's no hostile Russian action directly targeting the United States.  Yet."

Inside, the President breathed a sigh of relief.  For the moment, he wouldn't be faced with the terrible decision of whether to launch a nuclear counter-strike.  But he wanted to be ready.

"General, take us to DEFCON 2."

"Copy, sir.  DEFCON 2."

The President paused for a second, letting the situation sink in.  Like the Chairman had said, none of it made sense.  It was madness.

"General, I want your gut feel on this...what is going on over there?"

The Chairman paused, took a deep breath.  "In less than—"

He paused, glancing at what the President assumed was a countdown timer.

"—ten minutes, the northern portion of Ukraine is going to cease to exist, along with a sizeable portion of the ground forces they've pumped into that region...and I don't know why.  Their reason for invading was false, we all know that, but no one knows why they did it.  We're completely in the dark, Mr. President.  Whatever is going on in the Ukraine is—I, I just don't know, sir."

"I'm looking for recommendations, General."

Again, the electronic warning came through the speakers.

Nuclear detonation detected.  Belarus.  Nuclear detonation detected.  Belarus...

"Three more, sir.  Southern Belarus."

"What in God's name is Putin doing?" the President asked, to no one in particular.

"We've always known this day could happen, Mr. President," the Chairman said.  "But not like this.  They're nuking the holy hell out of themselves...."

***