THE ARK

Day 825

Dr. Anderson was visiting Harvard University as a guest lecturer. RJ Anderson was speaking about disaster management in third world countries to a group of about two hundred graduate students. As the lecture ended, there was the traditional opportunity to ask questions. RJ was hoping there would be few if any questions, there was a three PM flight back to New York and if things went well RJ wanted to try to be on that flight.

The students left the old lecture hall and RJ quickly began packing up notes and books. RJ noticed two men approach from the rear of the room. The first thought was that there would be some questions after all. At a second look, it was obvious that these men were not students. They stood too tall and self-assured, and they were wearing expensive-looking suits. RJ almost never saw students in suits.

“Can I help you with something?” RJ asked.

“Dr. Anderson, I’m agent Adams and this is agent Shea, we’re with the FBI.” Both men showed their identification. “We have been instructed to escort you to a critical meeting in Washington.”

“What’s the nature of this meeting?”

“I’m sorry doctor, but we haven’t been informed. We were just told to get you there ASAP. There is a plane waiting for you at Logan Airport.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t just drop everything, my schedule is too busy to just run off without more information.”

Agent Shea smiled and said, “I understand.” From the inside of his jacket, he withdrew a plain white envelope and handed it to RJ.

RJ had the letter open instantly and read it three times before putting it back in the envelope.

There was a long pause and finally RJ said, “Ok, take me to Washington.”

On the way to the airport, RJ thought about the sudden change in events and took out the letter again. After staring at the Presidential seal at the top, and President Daniel Anson signature on the bottom, RJ looked at the salutation and decided to make sure that the first thing the president understood was that absolutely no one, not even the President of the United States would call her Rebecca.

Rebecca Anderson had grown up in a small middle-class town with two loving parents. Rebecca was named after her grandmother on her mother’s side. When Rebecca was fourteen her father was killed in an automobile accident, that also left her mother mentally impaired and unable to care for her.

Rebecca had moved in with her grandmother, who was the only other relative in the area. About a year later, her grandmother’s boyfriend had moved into the home. Rebecca had never liked Scott Winfield. He always was making inappropriate comments to her. He was frequently intoxicated, and at those times he was even worse. Shortly after moving in, Scott had begun abusing her. At first, Rebecca did nothing, but she soon built up the courage to tell her grandmother the things that were happening.

Her grandmother would not even listen; she said that there was no way that Scott would do something like that. She had seemed actually angry with Rebecca for saying anything.

Weeks later, Rebecca’s grandmother had come home from work early and had walked in to see Scott holding Rebecca down while he was trying to get his hand in her clothes. Rebecca actually saw her grandmother back out of the room and later acted as if nothing happened. Rebecca talked to her again, this time in tears. She begged the grandmother to help. Her Grandmother slapped her across the face and demanded that this subject never be brought up again.

From that day forward, everyone had known her simply as RJ. Anyone calling her Rebecca learned quickly that that name was taboo.

Three months later the body of Scott Winfield was found floating in a local river with his throat slashed. The body was located near a place where Scott had often fished. There were no footprints near the scene, not even Scott’s. It was clear that someone had made a special effort to erase them.

His fishing pole, beer cooler, and a lawn chair were still by the river. His wallet was still in his pants pocket and there were seventeen dollars still in it.

No one ever found the knife that slit Scott’s throat. The Sheriff suspected that Scott had fallen asleep, or passed out from all the beer, since there were twenty empty cans by the chair, and his attacker had quietly snuck up behind him.

The authorities questioned everyone including RJ, but no suspect was ever located.

Even now, twenty years later, RJ sometimes awakens from a nightmare and can again feel Scott’s hot blood as it pumps out all over her arms.

The FBI agents were good to their word; they delivered her to the waiting jet and explained that there would be someone to meet her when she arrived in Washington.

The flight was uneventful. They had provided some sandwiches, chips, and Pepsi which she ate and drank. Later she reclined her seat and tried to sleep, but found that the never-ending questions that were running through her mind made it impossible.

Finally, she sat her seat back up and picked up a copy of USA Today that had originally been sitting with her food. She started on page one and made it to page three where she read an article titled “Presidents disaster shelter plan passes in the House”

The story went on to read; “Yesterday, after much debate, Congress with a two-thirds majority approved funding for President Anson’s plan to implement disaster shelters around the country. With the ever-growing threat of chemical, biological or nuclear terrorism aimed at the US. The president yesterday got approval from Congress to begin construction of shelters that would allow a safe environment for people in the event of such an attack. Sources report that the president lobbied harder for these shelters than he has for any of the other spending requests that he has made.

“Critics call this plan wasteful and compare it to the never used nuclear bomb shelters that sprang up at the height of the Cold War.”

RJ put the paper down, shook her head, and wondered if she really wanted to get involved with these people.

Upon landing, the plane was met by Agent Kathy Muller, who helped her from the plane and escorted her to the waiting car.

“I assume that you can’t tell me what this is about either?” RJ asked

“Sorry Dr. Anderson, I was just asked to meet you here and make sure you got to the White House with no delays.”

RJ climbed into the passenger side of the car and Agent Muller began driving.

Upon arrival at the White House, RJ stepped out and was met by a very professional looking woman. She was dressed in a gray skirt with a white shirt. She did not identify herself but led RJ in through the main doors and up a flight of stairs. There was a conference room on the left and there were two men inside.

“Here you are Doctor Anderson,” the woman said gesturing towards the conference room.

RJ stepped inside and looked at the two men. The first was a tall white male in an Army uniform. She could see that he was a Four Star General, as he turned to look at her; she looked at his face and recognized him as General Draper. Eight years before, when she was still in the Army, he was her divisional commander. While she had never met him, she certainly knew of him and of his reputation.

The man next to her was a bit older; he was a black male of medium height. She had seen him before and suspected that he was National Security Advisor Baker.

Mr. Baker looked at her and held out his hand, “Dr. Anderson, or do you prefer RJ.”

She took the offered hand. “RJ is fine, sir.” She looked at Draper, “General Draper, I’ve heard much about you.”

“Likewise. We have some things that we need to discuss with you. Would you like to have a seat?”

RJ sat down on a padded chair at the conference table. “I was under the impression that I was to meet with the President.”

“Depending on how things go here you probably will be,” explained Baker, who sat down in a seat in front of her

“We have an unusual situation, a matter of national security; in fact, this matter is so highly classified that we won’t be able to give you specifics until you agree to participate. But generally speaking we’re preparing a team to assist in disaster relief and rebuilding following a massive natural disaster. A disaster that we believe is imminent. This team will be involved in training and preparation beforehand, and when it’s safe following the incident they’ll get to work rebuilding,” Draper explained

“Sounds exactly like my kinda thing, sir.”

“If you’re going to join this, you’ll be involved full time immediately and be committed to this project until the end.”

“Who is running this, DOD?” RJ asked.

“This isn’t a military endeavor; however the Department of Defense is currently running this. When this becomes a disaster recovery operation, the command will be civilian but there will be a military arm in place to be utilized as needed,” Draper explained

“Why is the military so involved at this point?

“Like we said, this is so highly classified that we aren’t letting any of this information out. The military was in charge of this project before we ever knew that there was actually going to be a need for rebuilding. Since the army was already running things, the President agreed that they would oversee preparations,” said Baker

“If I agree who’ll I be working for?”

Baker and Draper exchanged awkward glances.

Finally, Draper spoke, “Well, that isn’t completely figured out. For now, you’d be working with us, but you’d report directly the President.”

“How many people are on the rebuilding team?” RJ asked

“Eventually we hope to have over ten thousand,” replied Baker

“Ten Thousand! What exactly is it that this team will be doing?”

“They will be working with the survivors to rebuild.”

“Where, and what kind of disaster are we talking about that we need a team of that size?”

After a moment of silence Draper responded, “Unfortunately, we’re unable to give you that kind of information unless you sign on.”

“Well, how do you expect me to commit to this without more information?”

“I understand your difficulty. However, I’m afraid that’s the best we can offer you,” Baker said.

“How many other members of this team are already signed up?” questioned RJ

“Actually you’re the first,” Draper said

RJ developed a concerned look on her face as she asked the next question. “Why am I the first?” even before she got the answer she already felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.

“RJ, we want you to command the team of ten thousand to rebuild after this massive natural disaster.”

RJ felt like there were thousands of questions jumping around in her mind, but all she could do is sit back and stare at them.

As RJ fought to clear her mind, President Anson walked into the room. “Doctor RJ Anderson, good to meet you,” he said holding out his hand.

RJ could not help but smile. Apparently, the President already had been informed about her name.

“Good to meet you mister President.”

“How much have they told you about this project?” asked the President.

Before she could answer, Draper spoke up. “Sir, she knows the basic information that we agreed on, including the role in this that we want her to play.”

“So, what do you think? Are you interested in our offer?” Daniel Anson asked

“Even what little I’ve heard, has been enough to overwhelm me. I really don’t know what to think right now.”

“Completely understand. We all had that reaction initially. Let me tell you that this must move forward and quickly. I’ve been told that you’re the best person for this job. I hope you’ll accept it.”

“Yes sir,” was all that RJ could say.

“I’ll make a deal with you. You agree to sign on to this, and if when you hear the details you aren’t interested you’ll be under no obligation to participate in the rebuilding or to lead the team. You’ll be held to the agreement to assist in planning and implementation.

“How much time commitment is involved?”

“If you’re involved in just planning, you’ll be committed for just over two years,” answered Draper. Then he added, “You’ll have to sign an agreement stating that you understand that this information is classified and that you’d be imprisoned if you were to disclose any of it.”

“If I agree to lead the team, how long?”

RJ noticed the three men looking at one another, clearly unsure how to react to this question.

RJ was starting to get a suspicion, so she decided to help the men out, “Is that one of those questions that are better answered after I have all the details?”

“Yes,” said Baker. “I think it is.”

“Can I see that form that I’ll have to sign?”

Draper slid it over to her.

RJ quickly skimmed the form and then pretended to read it through twice more. It was a chance for her to think uninterrupted.

She had been on many disaster relief missions. She had never heard of one in which over ten thousand people were utilized. What kind of disaster would you train for two years before hand? Better yet what kind of disaster could you predict over two years ahead of time?

RJ then remembered the article she had read on the airplane on the way to Washington and things started falling into place.

President Anson, Jeremiah Baker, and General Draper stared at her anxiously. All of the sudden they saw the color drain from her face, she instantly looked up at them and reached for the pen.

“Looks like she figured it out,” Baker commented.