[27 / 2 / 1]
Quoted By: >>6308902
<span class="mu-i">Saturday, May 14, 1985. Chicago.</span>
You open your eyes to the sound of rushing feet and whispered voices. It’s still dark, your wife turning over and muttering in her sleep. What’s the time? The digital clock reads 3:46 AM. There’s more voices outside in the corridor. People are running. What’s going on? You get out of bed, taking care not to disturb Linda, and look for your dressing gown. You find it and wrap it around yourself while you look through the window. The city is quiet, only a few cars lazily crawling down the streets, empty of pedestrians. You see that there’s been a light rain, droplets of water still clinging to your window and leaving the city streets glistening.
There’s a knock at the door, and as you turn, it opens, and your friend, Albert West, pokes his head through and says: “Mr President. We need you to come with us.”
SOMEWHERE ABOVE THE ARCTIC
A beeping rings out through the cockpit. Three pairs of eyes are staring at the dashboard. Cpt. William Blakely, aircraft commander, pushes a button and the beeping stops. He orders the navigator to check in with command. The navigator pushes some buttons and listens to his headset, then shakes his head. Cpt. Blakely pushes some more buttons, and CAP811 flashes on his screen. He resets the system. CAP811 flashes on the screen again. He looks at his pilot, who nods, slowly. They both unzip a pouch on their vests, and pull out two documents, marked TOP SECRET. They break the red ribbon seal, and read what is written on them. They look at each other’s documents. The contents are identical. There is silence in the cockpit.
You open your eyes to the sound of rushing feet and whispered voices. It’s still dark, your wife turning over and muttering in her sleep. What’s the time? The digital clock reads 3:46 AM. There’s more voices outside in the corridor. People are running. What’s going on? You get out of bed, taking care not to disturb Linda, and look for your dressing gown. You find it and wrap it around yourself while you look through the window. The city is quiet, only a few cars lazily crawling down the streets, empty of pedestrians. You see that there’s been a light rain, droplets of water still clinging to your window and leaving the city streets glistening.
There’s a knock at the door, and as you turn, it opens, and your friend, Albert West, pokes his head through and says: “Mr President. We need you to come with us.”
SOMEWHERE ABOVE THE ARCTIC
A beeping rings out through the cockpit. Three pairs of eyes are staring at the dashboard. Cpt. William Blakely, aircraft commander, pushes a button and the beeping stops. He orders the navigator to check in with command. The navigator pushes some buttons and listens to his headset, then shakes his head. Cpt. Blakely pushes some more buttons, and CAP811 flashes on his screen. He resets the system. CAP811 flashes on the screen again. He looks at his pilot, who nods, slowly. They both unzip a pouch on their vests, and pull out two documents, marked TOP SECRET. They break the red ribbon seal, and read what is written on them. They look at each other’s documents. The contents are identical. There is silence in the cockpit.
