Second Strike

CHAPTER 78

^{WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM, WASHINGTON, D.C.,}

^{AUGUST 18, 1:43 P.M. EDT}

President Marshall watched and James Brandt listened to the chaos on the screen in the Situation Room.

First responders were massed throughout the entrance to Union Station and Columbus Circle performing triage operations, identifying and separating those victims likely to survive from those who would soon die. Dozens of stretchers were lined up on the pavement near Columbus Fountain awaiting patients. EMTs moved about swiftly, tending to the injured and carrying patients toward ambulances. Audio captured commands and screams and cries while handheld cameras bounced and swayed, displaying horrific scenes of agony and death.

Unofficial casualty estimates ranged from 120 to 150 dead and more than four hundred injured, but several reporters acknowledged that at this stage the figures were guesswork. Marshall had been told by Homeland Security that the numbers could easily triple by the end of the day.

The expression on the president’s face shifted constantly between anger and anguish. A terrorist act that would claim scores of lives had occurred on his watch. Although his administration was barely six months old and the previous administration had been notoriously lax about matters of security, responsibility for this failure fell to the Marshall administration alone.

The newscasts were reporting that the blast appeared to be the work of a suicide bomber. There were few witnesses since most who could’ve provided useful information had been killed or maimed by the explosion. Most of the security cameras in the vicinity of the attack had been damaged or destroyed. DHS told Marshall, however, that one cabdriver fortunate to have somehow avoided serious injury reported seeing a jumpy guy with a white windbreaker near the entrance to Union Station seconds before the blast. According to the driver, the jumpy guy “looked like one of those folks beheading people on TV.”

Standing protocols were implemented almost instantly. Both government and private sector office workers were advised to remain where they were until further notice. Those people traveling about the District—whether workers, tourists, or errand runners—were asked to return to their headquarters, hotels, and homes. Off-duty members of the safety forces were summoned to assist and be ready to be deployed in case of further attacks.

There was a brief debate regarding the advisability of suspending ground transportation and air traffic in and out of the city. They settled upon temporary partial suspension, to be adjusted as developing circumstances warranted.

The security apparatus of the nation’s capital operated smoothly, competently, and efficiently. All necessary resources moved swiftly into place. None of which provided Marshall any solace. In his mind, he had failed the American people. Whatever legacy the remainder of his term might produce—whether strong economic growth or foreign policy success—it would be marred by this day. What troubled Marshall the most was the sense that the day’s events—the bad ones—weren’t over. The commander in chief reassured himself, in part, with the thought that the best security personnel in the world were handling the matter. But he drew most comfort from the knowledge that he had given Mike Garin sanction to do what he did best.