“Okay, here’s what we do. First, Dick, you drag him out of his hole.”

Dick fumbled frantically with the BlackBerry. “We’re doing it right now, sir. I’m getting that he’s out of touch due to the storm.”

“Bring that man into this office in thirty minutes or you’re on your way to the supermax for high treason. Thank you. Okay, now, General Hollis, you say this thing over San Francisco is or is not moving?”

“It’s moving south. Right now, it’s over the Sunset District.”

“But not fast, anyway.”

“Average speed, two miles an hour.”

“So, we board it. We put down a team of Delta Force operators off a chopper. We board this thing and we secure it.”

“Sir,” General Stuart said, his voice rising, “that is going to be certain death for those men.”

“Are you sure, General? Do you know that?”

“I just—I’m sorry. Assuming.”

The president said, “Okay, here’s a plan of action. We deploy whatever combat-ready troops we can muster to San Francisco, and we blow shit out of any of these designer people or whatever in fuck’s name you call them, and we kill them all. And seal the goddamn bridges. Dick, you get your genius in here. And Delta Force goes after that fucking piece of shit thing!” The president turned his blowtorch gaze toward the Joint Chiefs, who were clustered together like a bunch of scared mice. “Got that?”

“Yes, sir,” Stuart replied, “we’re trying to pull together some units right now.”

“Pull together? What in hell does that mean?”

“We—ah—on the West Coast … well, the military is thin on the ground, actually.”

The president picked up a paperweight and hurled it into the wall, where his bull strength caused it to shatter to pieces and take a large chunk of plaster with it.

He turned around and smiled that blaze of a grin that was on all his campaign posters. Then he turned it off like a light, which he knew had a frightening effect on people.

“Okay, you pull together the cooks and bottle washers and give them the best goddamn guns in the world, General.”

“Yessir! Sir?”

“Yes, General?”

“Most of the available ordnance in the area is older equipment used in training.”

“Oh, good. Then give the cooks the worst fuck-all guns in the butt-sucking world. But tell them to go for it! Now, next thing. The media is going to go absolutely insane, and with good goddamn reason. I want to schedule a press conference in twenty minutes.”

General Stuart broke in. “Sir—sir—I beg to differ on the deployment. Because, listen to me. You don’t want to put people into the city itself. No, you don’t.”

The president started to shout.