Chapter 57

December Twenty-fifth

Dawn over Washington was also red. It's first gentle touch on the tip of the Washington Monument seemed to trigger an explosion that rained debris onto the forest of stakes and their gruesome fruit below. The mounds of bodies heaped around the reflecting pool in front of the Lincoln Memorial cast long shadows over water the color of blood. As the vivid colors of sunrise faded, it became apparent that the water's color was not the result of reflection.

On the beltway that surrounded the city, a lone highway patrolmen stared at the wrecks that clogged the huge highway with astonished horror. Exiting his vehicle, he started to check the twisted and, in some cases, charred wrecks for survivors. After a dozen or so vehicles, it was only through extreme effort that he kept his stomach from losing its contents. He gave his task up as a lost cause.

On his way back to his patrol car, he noticed that something semi-spherical and roughly the size of a soccer ball had been stuck on top of one of the mile marker signs. As he walked closer, his stomach again threatened to rebel as he recognized it for what it was.

Tentatively, he reached out to brush the frost from the twisted features of the face. He stared into the glazed eyes of one of the distinguished gentleman from Florida for a second before falling to his hands and knees, his breakfast spewing out onto the pavement. When his stomach had finished expelling its contents, he gazed blearily up and down the highway, trying to look anywhere but at the head. He couldn't help but notice that every mile marker in sight bore a similar burden.

Far to the east, the Islamic nations refused to be placated by diplomats or by the heartfelt apologies and protestations of innocence made by Israel. The troops and police forces that had flooded into the holy city to repel the attack had reported fatally shooting thousands of defilers. An attack of such magnitude could not have been made without the knowledge and blessing of the Jewish State. Unfortunately, there had been no prisoners, as those who had participated in the desecration had chosen self immolation at dawn rather than face capture. The fires had added to the already massive destruction. In any event, the participation of one of Israel's fighter planes in the attack could not be denied. Such an affront could only be answered in one way.

Similarly, slightly farther to the east, old hatreds flared brightly to life as the result of India's cowardly surprise attack along its border with Pakistan. Although Indian leaders pointed out that such a light attack, involving only a few, isolated units, was obviously the work of some extremist group and was not the act of the nation, its people, or its leaders, the Pakistani people cried out for vengeance. Blood could only be answered with blood.

The earth trembled as the dogs of war were unleashed.