“Sir! Sir, no, you do not! Because we have lost this city, sir. And we don’t know how it happened or what we’re up against, but we know it is full of these bizarre creatures—murderous, so far unstoppable—I mean, the police force is gone. The—whatever we had there—some kind of riot squad on an earthquake drill—all gone. So what we need to do is isolate the problem area as best we can and protect our surviving civilian population in places like Berkeley and Marin County—I mean, the area is huge. Huge. And there’s the whole of California and Oregon to think about, here. We do not want to go rushing into San Francisco with what little we have available and get it sucked up in a meat grinder.” Stuart paused. “We need to send in recce. Try to gain some strategic insight. This is not about retaking the city, sir, no, not yet. Right now, we need to be looking at two things: damage control and the tightest containment we can manage. The city and environs, hopefully.”

“General Stuart, thank you. There is a man with a clear head, people, even in the face of my temper, and that is saying something. For which thank God. Okay, I need to get with my speechwriters and my press people. General Stuart, you’re to deploy as you see fit. But I do want at least an attempt to do something about this thing right now. I want to be able to say we have somebody fighting, so get Delta Force involved. Let them evaluate the situation, and if they think that they can board that thing or whatever they can do, let them try.” The president paused. He added quietly, “I also want an evaluation of collateral damage, should I decide to employ nuclear weapons.”

He left the room, striding, shoulders back, exuding authority. He crossed to his private suite, carefully closed the door, and locked it.

He stood in the middle of the room and roared out his rage and his defiance. When he was done, the lock clicked. Carlie came in. Behind her were his speechwriters and his press attaché.

“I needed that,” he said.

Now came the hard part. This president, who had been doing so well, had to face the people of the United States and the world with the worst news that any president, or perhaps any leader in history, had ever had the misfortune to convey.

Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE TRAP

It was full light now, and the hybrids had retreated into the woods. They could apparently see perfectly well in the dark, so they preferred to use it as cover. All night, they had patrolled the town, moving carefully, always keeping out of sight, watching for some opportunity to attack.