MarieDavisRPs
Real Life Streaker
- Joined
- Jan 15, 2021
- Posts
- 232
Washington DC
The White House Situation Room
16 September 2030 (The 2nd Day)
Exact time isn't important:
US President Victoria Stevens entered the Situation Room, asking without delay, "Where is he...? Who has him? Tell me it's us."
They knew exactly who she meant: Russian President Vladimir Putin. The Director of the Central Intelligence Agency spoke up, saying, "We're not exactly sure, Madam President."
"Whaddaya mean ... we're not exactly sure?" Victoria snapped. "You're the fucking CIA! You have assets on the ground in Moscow, yes...? Satellites, drones ... big fucking domes that listen in on every fart and burp in the Kremlin. How is it you don't know where he is? We know they dragged him right out the front of the Kremlin!"
The Director hesitated, cleared his throat, then sheepishly explained that most of the CIA, NSA, FBI, and Military's assets had been directed to watch the Troyna.
"Why the fuck ... were you looking up at the Troyna?" Victoria growled.
"Madam President ... there is a ten mile long, three mile in diameter spaceship in orbit of our planet ... with the capability of neutralizing America's nuclear deterrent," the Director told her with a great deal of tone in his voice. He continued, "... and -- if they wish, as we have already seen in Russia and China -- they can melt down all of our tanks, ships, planes, and subs as easily as my granddaughter's ice cream melts down her arm on a hot day."
He paused, then continued, "Putin destroyed one city. The Troyna could destroy all of them."
"Putin nuked Kyiv, Admiral," Victoria reminded him, adding, "The capital of a country that over the past 8 years we spent almost half a trillion dollars defending."
One of the Intelligence Officers reminded her, "The United States has spent almost $10 trillion dollars on its nuclear weapons program since 1940, Madam President. And the Troyna wiped it out in less than three hours."
"How many Americans were killed in that attack, sir?" Victoria asked.
"Fewer than 20, Madam President," an Officer who'd been tasked with tracking the casualties said. Then he admitted, "But those casualties were not a direct result of the weapon. There was a fall inside a missile silo in North Dakota. A steam explosion on one of our missile subs that even the Captain says wasn't directly related."
An argument pursued about whether the US should be more concerned about a couple of dozen deaths or 2 million of them. They also discussed whether or not the US should be sending aid and aid workers to Kyiv.
An Officer said, "I don't think we really need to help, Madam President."
"Why not?" she challenged.
The Officer gestured to yet another Officer -- this one at a computer panel -- and a moment later an image filled the largest screen in the room. It was an American drone's view of the Troyna camp west of Kyiv. The Officer explained, "In less than 24 hours, it has become the largest and most sophisticated refugee camp in the world."
Several more screens filled with images from satellites, drones, aircraft, and even ground assets. "The Troyna have established a full-scale surgical hospital and a radiation treatment facility. They are using sophisticated, large scale 3D-printers to create housing and other necessities that, we are told, can serve up to half a million people. And President Zelenskyy -- who luckily was not in Kyiv at the time of the attack -- gave the Troyna permission to transport the worse cases up to the Mothership for treatment ... so long as those people come back, which we are hearing the Troyna did in fact promise."
More arguing took place over the next half hour before Victoria finally hollered out, "Everyone take a seat! Everyone! Find a chair and park yourself in it."
She waited until every butt was in a chair or on a bench, then said, "There are a lot of bad actors on this planet ... only one of which is Vladimir Putin. Kim Jong Un ... Ali Khamenei ... others: they should be our priority, not the Troyna.
"If you think we should be focusing on the Troyna ... rather than people like Putin or Kim ... please stand up. Go ahead ... stand up."
As she watched, a dozen people stood up, some of them hesitantly, some of them without doubt. They included her CIA Director, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, one of several Homeland Security Under-Secretaries, and even her own Chief of Staff.
She stood, too, saying with a calm voice, "I want to thank you all for your service to me ... to your country ... and to its citizens." She paused again, then said firmly, "You are relieved ... released ... fired ... whatever is appropriate for your particular position and duty."
There was immediate mayhem in the room, but one after another, each of the men and women who'd been standing made their way out of the Situation Room. When the last of them was gone, Victoria looked around the room again, asking, "Okay, how do we find where Putin is ... and has Queen Valla gotten back to us yet?"
"Madam President," an Officer said, gesturing for her attention. When Victoria looked to her, the Officer said with a big smile, "She's on the line now ... I mean ... I can put her on the screen if you want. We're getting a visual signal from the Mothership."
Victoria's stomach anxiously rolled over. She straightened her clothes, turned toward the big screen and the camera included with the system, and ordered, "Put her through..."
The White House Situation Room
16 September 2030 (The 2nd Day)
Exact time isn't important:
US President Victoria Stevens entered the Situation Room, asking without delay, "Where is he...? Who has him? Tell me it's us."
They knew exactly who she meant: Russian President Vladimir Putin. The Director of the Central Intelligence Agency spoke up, saying, "We're not exactly sure, Madam President."
"Whaddaya mean ... we're not exactly sure?" Victoria snapped. "You're the fucking CIA! You have assets on the ground in Moscow, yes...? Satellites, drones ... big fucking domes that listen in on every fart and burp in the Kremlin. How is it you don't know where he is? We know they dragged him right out the front of the Kremlin!"
The Director hesitated, cleared his throat, then sheepishly explained that most of the CIA, NSA, FBI, and Military's assets had been directed to watch the Troyna.
"Why the fuck ... were you looking up at the Troyna?" Victoria growled.
"Madam President ... there is a ten mile long, three mile in diameter spaceship in orbit of our planet ... with the capability of neutralizing America's nuclear deterrent," the Director told her with a great deal of tone in his voice. He continued, "... and -- if they wish, as we have already seen in Russia and China -- they can melt down all of our tanks, ships, planes, and subs as easily as my granddaughter's ice cream melts down her arm on a hot day."
He paused, then continued, "Putin destroyed one city. The Troyna could destroy all of them."
"Putin nuked Kyiv, Admiral," Victoria reminded him, adding, "The capital of a country that over the past 8 years we spent almost half a trillion dollars defending."
One of the Intelligence Officers reminded her, "The United States has spent almost $10 trillion dollars on its nuclear weapons program since 1940, Madam President. And the Troyna wiped it out in less than three hours."
"How many Americans were killed in that attack, sir?" Victoria asked.
"Fewer than 20, Madam President," an Officer who'd been tasked with tracking the casualties said. Then he admitted, "But those casualties were not a direct result of the weapon. There was a fall inside a missile silo in North Dakota. A steam explosion on one of our missile subs that even the Captain says wasn't directly related."
An argument pursued about whether the US should be more concerned about a couple of dozen deaths or 2 million of them. They also discussed whether or not the US should be sending aid and aid workers to Kyiv.
An Officer said, "I don't think we really need to help, Madam President."
"Why not?" she challenged.
The Officer gestured to yet another Officer -- this one at a computer panel -- and a moment later an image filled the largest screen in the room. It was an American drone's view of the Troyna camp west of Kyiv. The Officer explained, "In less than 24 hours, it has become the largest and most sophisticated refugee camp in the world."
Several more screens filled with images from satellites, drones, aircraft, and even ground assets. "The Troyna have established a full-scale surgical hospital and a radiation treatment facility. They are using sophisticated, large scale 3D-printers to create housing and other necessities that, we are told, can serve up to half a million people. And President Zelenskyy -- who luckily was not in Kyiv at the time of the attack -- gave the Troyna permission to transport the worse cases up to the Mothership for treatment ... so long as those people come back, which we are hearing the Troyna did in fact promise."
More arguing took place over the next half hour before Victoria finally hollered out, "Everyone take a seat! Everyone! Find a chair and park yourself in it."
She waited until every butt was in a chair or on a bench, then said, "There are a lot of bad actors on this planet ... only one of which is Vladimir Putin. Kim Jong Un ... Ali Khamenei ... others: they should be our priority, not the Troyna.
"If you think we should be focusing on the Troyna ... rather than people like Putin or Kim ... please stand up. Go ahead ... stand up."
As she watched, a dozen people stood up, some of them hesitantly, some of them without doubt. They included her CIA Director, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, one of several Homeland Security Under-Secretaries, and even her own Chief of Staff.
She stood, too, saying with a calm voice, "I want to thank you all for your service to me ... to your country ... and to its citizens." She paused again, then said firmly, "You are relieved ... released ... fired ... whatever is appropriate for your particular position and duty."
There was immediate mayhem in the room, but one after another, each of the men and women who'd been standing made their way out of the Situation Room. When the last of them was gone, Victoria looked around the room again, asking, "Okay, how do we find where Putin is ... and has Queen Valla gotten back to us yet?"
"Madam President," an Officer said, gesturing for her attention. When Victoria looked to her, the Officer said with a big smile, "She's on the line now ... I mean ... I can put her on the screen if you want. We're getting a visual signal from the Mothership."
Victoria's stomach anxiously rolled over. She straightened her clothes, turned toward the big screen and the camera included with the system, and ordered, "Put her through..."