“Okay, I guess that’s fair. I can tell you that I am speaking from a bunker of our own, at a place called the Annex, or the U.S. Government Relocation Center. We have lost all contact with the White House and the Pentagon. In fact, this phone call right here—or whatever the hell it is—is our first official contact in over two hours. If you’ve got information—any information at all—then I’d be delighted to hear it.”

“I’m afraid we don’t have much, sir. Our bunker is not exactly on the base, if you know what I mean. We’re at one of those secret, undisclosed locations people used to talk about. But I can tell you that we specialize in . . . communication.”

Penn interpreted the way the captain leaned on that word as a verbal wink and elbow poke. Captain Brinks was a spy-slash-electronic eavesdropper.

The captain continued, “The bad guys—we think it was the Russians, but we’re not sure. Could have been the Chicoms. The first munition they launched was an EMP warhead. It wiped out pretty much all civilian electronics. God only knows how many airliners fell out of the sky.”

“This is Angela Fortnight, House minority leader. Were we able to launch a retaliatory strike?”

Another long pause. Penn could feel the captain’s anxiety through the phone line. “Ma’am, that’s not exactly my corner of the Air Force. I believe we did, yes, but I can’t speak to the extent. I know for a fact that we tried, but we were caught a little flat-footed. I guess that’s why we have subs parked off the coast of everyplace. I just don’t know.”

“How is your team there in the bunker doing?” Penn asked.

“We’re not hurt, if that’s what you mean. We’ve got backup battery power for three days, and enough food for about the same amount of time. We’ve got water for a week, I guess.”

“When will it be safe for you to climb out of there?” Penn asked. “I mean, how long before the radiation levels are low enough?”

“For right now, sir, the radiation levels aren’t what are keeping us inside. There’s a crazy series of steps you’ve got to take to get in here. Multiple air locks, that sort of thing. When that second wave hit, at least one of the hatches got jammed shut. We’ve got to figure out a way to unjam it. Hey, sir? Mr. Speaker? What do you know about everything else? Is the war still going? Did anybody win?”

The irony of the thought of winning Armageddon was not lost on Penn. “We’re in the dark on that, too, Captain.”

“Wait. Hold one, Mr. Speaker. We’ve got some traffic coming in.”