Countdown to Looking Glass (NCIS/DC Universe crossover)

Chapter 52



Tuesday, June 5, 2007

5:14 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time

10:14 p.m. Greenwich Mean Time

11:14 p.m. West German Time



NBC News



--Lester, the announcement from the DoD states, and I quote, ‘Pact forces have detonated three nuclear weapons with yields ranging from 500 kilotons to 3 megatons over Allied troop positions in West Germany and Austria. Two more nuclear weapons of approximately 10 megatons have detonated over NATO regional headquarters in Kassel, West Germany and over NATO headquarters in Brussels, Belgium—



Fox News



--sources tell Fox News Allied forces have detonated nuclear weapons over Pact forces in West and East Germany and over Pact bases in Czechoslovakia and East Germany—



5:17 p.m. EDT

NPR



--we’ve been told by observers in Colombia along the Panama border of a large explosion followed by a gigantic mushroom cloud rising in the north, possibly where the Panama Canal is—



5:21 p.m. EDT

KUAM-TV, Guam



--a…oh God, no…a…major nuclear explosion in or near Taipei. We…we don’t know if it’s ours or theirs—



5:24 p.m.

Washington, D.C.

Above New Hampshire Road, SW of Dupont Circle



“There’s nobody on this road, Jethro,” Franks told Gibbs from one of the passenger seats of a US Navy Sikorsky CH-53E ‘Super Stallion’ heavy-lift helicopter. Franks had a window seat, and looked over his shoulder at the nearly-deserted city 500 feet below the helicopter.



The Sikorsky and its sister helicopter had a clear path to its destination, the ring complex underneath the Pentagon Mall in Arlington. Nearby Andrews Air Force Base – the former Reagan Airport – was now a staging area for local defense, with military operations having been moved to the current Reagan International Airport in Maryland (which once was the site of Andrews AFB).



On a normal weekday, the street would be jammed with rush-hour drivers on their way home. The streets were virtually empty, with only a few cars, motorcyclists and bicyclists heading east, towards Arlington and the ring complex.



“Everyone’s gone, Mike,” Gibbs replied. “Everyone who could get out, did. The only reason we’re here, now, is that Ring we’re heading towards.”



“Nice of Riley to have this copter waiting for us,” Franks said, as he reached in his shirt pocket for a cigarette. He then remembered the Petty Officer who told him as he entered the copter that tobacco wasn’t allowed on board.



“I don’t think you’d want to try to drive down there right now, anyway,” Kate interjected, from her seat opposite Franks. “I wouldn’t put it past the Spetsnaz to have someone lying in wait, shooting at a passing car.”



“Or shooting up at a helicopter,” Tony said four seats down from Kate, looking over his shoulder out a window. “I see some people walking, running, riding on bikes I think…hard to tell, from this high up.”



“Anyone who could have left, Anthony, would have done so by now,” Ducky said. “I believe we are most fortunate to be where we are now. I wish only there were more of these, ah, devices, for more people to flee through right now.”



“There aren’t a lot of them,” McGee said. “Well, there are, but not nearly enough for seven billion people. Some states have only one of them.”



“How close are we, Gibbs?”, Abby asked. Gibbs held up four fingers.



“Four minutes,” McGee said.



Kansas City, Missouri



Like most American cities, Kansas City is largely full. Most people don’t have a refuge in the middle of nowhere to flee to, so they stay at home.



When news of the nuclear detonations in Europe breaks, almost anyone with a vehicle flees to the nearest grocery to get food, the nearest gas station to get gasoline, the nearest drug store to get medicine and food and anything else they can rip off the shelves.



Four people are trampled to death at a IGA in suburban Kansas City when the manager begins putting out his remaining supplies of beef and fish.



Fights break out at gas stations across the city, be it people not moving quickly enough or the fuel pumps running dry.



In nearby Lawrence, Kansas, local police give up trying to keep panicked Kansas City residents out of the town. Locals still remember the 24-year-old The Day After film, and many of the refugees think the small university town has to be a hell of a lot better place to be right now than being anywhere near Kansas City.



Unknown to most people, a single, middle-aged man as fit as a 25-year-old sprinter has been running non-stop between Kansas City and Lawrence. Jay Garrick survived The Wall’s purges and the Secret Wars on gifted individuals, and used his gift of super-speed in as low-key of a manner as possible. Right now, he was playing Robin Hood in a sense – stealing from the soon-to-be-dead rich to give to the soon-to-be-desperately-needy poor – by transferring food and medicine from the city to Lawrence.



Now if only his heart would hold up, Garrick thought he might do the survivors in Lawrence some good, after the bombing ended.



Scott Air Force Base, Illinois



As panicked residents clog interstates and major roads outside of nearby St. Louis, Missouri, a dozen F-19 Blackhawk fighter jets launch from the base. The jets are experimental, and tasked with defending this area of post-war America from any Soviet fighters or bombers who make it this far into the homeland.



The nearest emergency strip, should an all-out nuclear exchange occur, is in Mount Vernon, near the Novamerika theme park.



Metropolis, New Troy



Perry White stood in line at Centennial Park, as the sirens began to wail.



He skimmed through the four-page special section that went to press four hours before. The front page headline simply read GET TO THE RING and showed a picture of a gigantic Ring at Centennial Park, in front of the iconic statue of Revolutionary War hero General Augustus Troy.



With his family and friends at his side – including his former reporter, Lois Lane – White decided to leave while he could. He hoped the Earth they all were fleeing to would be a place that would reject the injustice of all-out thermonuclear war.



5:28 p.m.

Arlington, Virginia



Both Sikorskys landed in Arlington, in the intersection of 15th and Hayes, outside the ring complex underneath the old Pentagon Mall. Gibbs hadn’t forgotten that Hollis Mann died here not too long ago; he doubted he ever would. There were dozens of civilian vehicles, including buses, and some military and police vehicles in the area, parked up and down the streets as far as Gibbs could see. Hundreds of people were making their way into the facility through several entrances, some the size of a house door, others as large as a garage door.



He was the last person to leave the Sikorsky, and he saw Joanna Teague, Brent Langer, Roger Cooke and Jack Sloane near an entrance. As Gibbs’s team made their way through the door, he stopped to talk briefly with Teague and Langer. “We made it,” he said. “Glad to see you did, too.”



“We’re ahead of things, Gibbs. I’m not sure how much longer,” Teague said. “We had the radio on one of the news stations on our way here. They reported the Soviets nuked an oil field in Saudi Arabia, and a South African air force base, and one of our ships off the Nicaraguan coast.”



“Then the Emergency Broadcast System took over,” Langer said. “Guess all that matters now, is what’s down there waiting for us.”



“Better hurry, then,” Gibbs said.



The military guards tried to be friendly, but were adamant about everyone making their way down to the facility as quickly as possible. The next five minutes were a blur – Gibbs was so focused on moving he barely noticed the long hallway, and the large cargo elevators he, Teague and Langer, and several strangers were led into.



The elevator trip took about three minutes, which may as well have been an eternity. Eight feet behind Gibbs’s left shoulder, a baby cried in a young mother’s arms. He wondered if that child – if he and everyone there – would make it ahead of the first nuke detonating over Washington.



When the door opened, he saw the ring, on the other end of the football field-sized auditorium, and a long row of people walking through. “Stay in your group and move as quickly as you can,” shouted a police officer. “You will be guided into the line. Once there, move as quickly as you can.”



“Guess this is it,” Teague said to Gibbs. “We’re lucky. We didn’t get shot at, didn’t get blown up. We might just make it after all.”



“Of all the times to quote Mary Tyler Moore,” Langer joked.



“Okay, Langer. You asked for it,” Teague replied. Then, she began singing. “How will you make it on your own? This world is awfully big…”



As some of the people in their group joined Teague in singing the lyrics to the theme song of a classic television sitcom, Gibbs looked around. He saw the rest of his team, waiting for their groups to be fed into the row of people hurrying through the ring. He looked around again, and saw the little girl from months ago his team had found at the Taco Bell in nearby Fairfax: Kayleigh Newsom, Lt. Commander Joanna Newsom’s daughter.



Kayleigh waved to him; he waved back, and was glad he had kept her letter. It was in his go bag, in a box with photos, letters and cards from his late wife Shannon and his late daughter Kelly.



The line began moving faster; the Marines were doing a good job of keeping things orderly, but Gibbs noticed them urging people to move more quickly than before.



Then he felt a rumble, a second before he heard a distant explosion. He saw others around him stop, and saw the confusion, and fear, in their faces. “LET’S GO!”, Gibbs shouted. “Move!”



With a nod to Langer and Teague, Gibbs began moving towards the back, making sure no one was left behind. By now, those who could run, ran towards the ring. Many held a baby or child in their arms; he saw several pairs of people picking up older or handicapped people who couldn’t run fast enough.



Another rumble shook the auditorium, and Gibbs faintly heard attack sirens wailing. This only made the remaining people run as fast as they could. Gibbs suddenly found himself being picked up by his arms and guided into a jeep.



“Sorry about that, Gunny,” an older man driving the jeep said. “We’re gonna have to drive, not run, through that thing.”



“I have a rule against apologies,” Gibbs said, as the jeep waited; Gibbs saw people being herded into jeeps, SUVs and trucks. Then the jeep began moving, slowly at first. “We know each other.”



“Sgt. Harrison Scott, Marine Corps,” the man replied. “We’ve never met. Your reputation precedes you. I’m glad you’re here, now; if you weren’t here, you’d be a goner.”



“Any idea what those rumbles were?”, Gibbs asked. He knew what they were, but not where.



“They’ve launched the missiles – both sides,” Scott said, as the jeep moved faster. They were about 50 yards from the ring. “We have important people here, and the Soviets have important people in Moscow. So, neither city’s going up in the first wave. But the second wave…”



“Were you told what they’ve hit?”



“We heard Norfolk went up. The last one may have been Baltimore. Hell, Philly’s close enough, if the Russians dropped one of those Tsar Bomb—”



The auditorium shook again, more violently this time.



“Or maybe that was the Tsar Bomba,” Scott yelled.



Four Army privates ran up to a Humvee driving up the stairs onto the platform, to keep it from turning on its side; it held up the caravan for a minute. The red lights that suddenly began flashing throughout the auditorium added to the urgency of the situation, and vehicles began speeding through the ring.



As the jeep Gibbs rode in approached the ring, he looked back. Before he knew it, the ring was behind him, and the next thing he knew, they were outside. The jeep skidded to a stop, and it took a half minute for Gibbs to figure out where he was.



“What in hell…we’re in RFK,” Scott said. Robert F. Kennedy Stadium, which he and Gibbs knew as the home stadium of the Washington Redskins football and DC United soccer teams. Now, there were dozens of vehicles, and hundreds of people, on the field, and hundreds more people being led into the stands.



Gibbs figured the jeep was near where the 50-yard-line would have been for a Redskins game. He looked behind him, and saw a long ramp descending down to the field from an elevated platform, where another ring took center stage. He looked around again, and he saw people in the lower level stands; looking upwards, he saw clouds, and noticed it was warm.



Gibbs looked to the end of the stadium opposite the platform, and he reached in his go bag for a pair of binoculars. He looked at the scoreboard near the top of the stadium, and immediately noticed two things.



The scoreboard itself, flanked by signs for a company he knew – Pepsi – and one he didn’t know – WayneTech. The sign on the scoreboard read





He looked at the signs next to the scoreboard. The one on the left was for PEPCO, the local power company. The one to the right of the WayneTech sign was a video screen showing what he thought was WGDC – the local GBS affiliate – showing news coverage, and at least one other ring somewhere outside New York.



Then there were the other two signs, to the right of the video screen. The one on the far-right was for The Washington Post newspaper.



The one beside it had brightly garbed costumed individuals, like the ones who visited his home earlier in the day, standing next to what he presumed were Redskins players, and young children. He squinted to read the words along the bottom of the sign.

Join the Justice League and the Redskins to help DC’s kids. Learn more at wrcf/jla 

Gibbs then felt a tap on his shoulder. He put down his binoculars, turned to his right, and saw Tony, who grinned at him. “We made it, Boss,” he told Gibbs.



“All of us?” Gibbs said.



“Scattered around, but yeah,” Tony replied, pointing to the binoculars. “Mind if I take a look?”



“Be my guest,” Gibbs said, and Tony looked through the binoculars, at the signs. He let out a loud whistle, lowered the binoculars, and turned to Gibbs. “What do you make of that?”



“No idea, DiNozzo.”



“Me neither, Boss. Way better than going up in a mushroom cloud, though.”



“Won’t argue with that.”



“One thing. Going by the sign. The one for the kids. Someone in the crowd said one of those…superheroes…is responsible for that.” Tony pointed behind he and Gibbs, back to the ring on the platform. “Boss. We sure as hell ain’t in Kansas anymore.”



Gibbs had nothing to say in response, and he sure wasn’t going to argue the point.



--reports are coming into GBS News, and our affiliates and our bureaus, of wormholes abruptly appearing across the United States and around the world, and people crossing from them, with little or no warning. We’re told the White House is aware of the situation, and the President will speak to the nation at 6 p.m. Eastern. GBS News will carry the President’s address live. Until then, many of our affiliates will return to local coverage. For those which aren’t, we’ll continue network coverage of this unprecedented event. With Clark Kent in Metropolis and Bryant Gumbel in Washington, I’m Jessica Savitch here in New York. This is GBS News’s continuing coverage of…--