Chapter 2
Justin took a deep breath and walked calmly up the gentle slope of his driveway. Lisa would be home with their son, James, oblivious to the day’s events; they never watched television on weekdays, so the likelihood of her having heard about the assassination were slim, unless someone had phoned her. He paused in front of the screen door, his hand trembling. Bracing himself, he walked inside to see Lisa was standing in front of their fireplace, staring at the cold hearth. James was playing with building blocks in the corner of the living room, the colorful plastic blocks a sharp contrast to the maple hardwood.
The television was on, though the volume was off. A news anchor was staring out from the television, and headlines flashed underneath his somber face. Lisa turned to stare at him as he walked in, her eyes wide.
“You’ve heard,” he commented, his voice tremulous.
Lisa nodded, glancing down at James. “How could anyone do such a thing?” she demanded, her voice uncertain.
Justin shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t know the reasons. I do know that things are going to get really ugly in a few days.”
“What do you mean ‘ugly’?” she whispered.
“The President of the United States was assassinated on a diplomatic mission on Canadian soil; they already have trade sanctions against us. To the US Congress, this will be seen…” he hesitated, clearing his throat. “They will likely view this as an act of war.”
Lisa turned away from him and stared back at the fireplace. “That’s what the news anchors have been saying, though the vice-president hasn’t made a comment yet.”
Justin nodded. He sometimes hated his political science degree. “That makes sense. He’ll want to address Congress first. Has the prime minister made any kind of comment yet? He hadn’t when I left the school.”
Lisa shook her head, and Justin thought he saw her shoulders shaking.
“That’s a mistake,” Justin breathed. “Christ, it’s bad enough that the president was killed here. If those idiots in Parliament don’t see that they need to address the American government right away…” he trailed off and walked across the room to wrap his arms around his wife. “Babe,” he whispered. “It’s going to be okay.”
“How can you say that?” she wept softly. “How is it going to be okay?”
“We…” he trailed off as a new image appeared on the television screen.
The vice-president, the president now, he supposed, was moving across a platform to stand in front of a podium with dozens of microphones, pushing his glasses up his nose with a meaty finger. Justin glanced around for the remote and clicked the volume just as the new president began to speak.
“I will begin by saying that we have suffered a great tragedy today,” the rotund, balding man said in his nasal, east-coast voice. “The death of President Olsen… the assassination of our president… is an act which can never be forgiven. As the newly inaugurated President of the United States of America, let me begin by saying that this act will not go without repercussions. I have called an immediate meeting of Congress to discuss how best to address this calculated, irrefutable act of aggression by a nation we once considered our greatest ally. While I will not make any further statements about how we, as a nation, will respond to this terrorist act, I swear to the American people that it will not go unanswered. We, the United States, do not back down from aggressors. We will rise up and deal with this blow to our nation as we have always done.”
Justin stared at the man on the television and swore softly.
“What?” Lisa asked, moving to wrap an arm around his waist.
“Look at that bastard’s face, at his eyes. He’s excited. He wants a war,” Justin murmured.
Lisa frowned. “Why on earth would anyone want a war, Justin?”
“Think about it, Lisa. The US economy, the drought… we both know what the President was coming up here to negotiate. They need our water. Now, instead of having to negotiate for it, they can claim…”
Lisa shook her head angrily. “You can’t mean to tell me you think they’ll go to war over our water?”
“Worse. I think that whoever planned this assassination was counting on this reaction. Why pay for something if you can take it by force? President Olsen was a decent man, a genuine statesman. He was the kind of man that would never allow the US to invade another country for its resources. With him out of the way…”
“You think they killed their own President?” Lisa asked, her eyes wide.
“It wouldn’t be the first time in history that someone had to die to start a war. It also wouldn’t be the first time that a nation that needed a specific resource, or a piece of land, arranged things so that they could go to war over it.”
“That’s horrible,” she whispered.
Justin nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the television screen. “Lisa, I need you to listen to me very carefully. We need to get out of the city. Tonight. The American government can act really quickly when they choose to, and I don’t want to be in Calgary when they do. I need you to go to the store and get groceries… canned goods, mostly. Soups, chili, canned vegetables… as many types of filling foods as you can. Get a few big sacks of potatoes and a few bags of carrots, turnips… but don’t be frivolous. Don’t buy anything really perishable. Don’t buy random things, but stock up on tea and coffee. And buy water. Lots of it. Buy as much as the truck can hold, then take and fill it up with gas.” When Lisa began to protest, Justin raised his hand to forestall her. “Just trust me on this, Lisa. I know the gas will be expensive, but do it. Fill an extra jerry can, too.”
Something in his tone made her stare at him in stunned silence. When he turned and walked to the key rack and pulled down the seldom-used set of keys, her eyes widened. “I’ve got to go to Canadian Tire. You can’t buy ammunition. Be quick, Lisa. No more than an hour.”
Lisa closed her eyes for a moment, and then she nodded, taking the keys. “Jim,” she called to their son. “Come on, honey. We’ve got to go shopping. We get to take the car!”
James looked up from where he was playing, his eyes somber. “Something bad happened, didn’t it, Mommy?”
Lisa swallowed hard. For a six-year old, James was remarkably astute. She reached out and ran a hand through James’ fine blonde hair.
“Yes, baby, and now we need to get ready. Okay?”
“Daddy,” James murmured as he walked over to grab his mother’s hand, “be careful. There might be bad people out there.”
Justin nodded. “You stay close to your mother, son. Keep her safe.”
A small smile spread across the boy’s face, lighting up his brilliant blue eyes. “I always do, Daddy.”
Smiling back, Justin waited until his wife and child had left before he raced down the stairs to get a pair of old hiking backpacks from where they had been gathering dust for the last six years. He grabbed a smaller day pack, as well, and then hurried back upstairs. He deposited the hiking packs in the bedroom, pulled on the day pack, and left the house, careful to lock all of the doors before jogging up the street towards the Canadian Tire a few blocks away.
As he jogged, he considered what he was doing.
His family owned a cabin a few hundred kilometers outside of the city. They hadn’t used it much in the last few years, and it was getting run down, but it was still in relatively decent shape. It would give his family a place to go to hide out in for a while. He was sure that a few others in the city had likely come to the same realization that he had while at work: war was coming, and Canada’s army didn’t stand a hope in hell of doing anything to stop the American military. While he’d been young when the US was in its most active phase of its anti-terrorism campaign, he’d been fascinated by it during school. It was part of why he’d taken political science and education at university. He could still see the video footage of the airstrikes against places like Baghdad in his mind. Shock and awe. That had been their goal.
And there hadn’t been any real reason for it.
Now they had a reason – an irrefutable, unqualified reason to set their military strength into motion.
Canada’s military was a shadow of itself, and it had never been very imposing to begin with. With the collapse of the economy, funding had been pulled from the military just as surely as it had been from education. There were always more important issues. More helicopters? That money could be better spent on agriculture. A missile defense system? Why would we need one of those? Use the money for new infrastructure. Our tanks are obsolete? They can make it another ten years. Use the money for a new employment action plan.
Canada was an easy target.
He slowed down as the Canadian Tire store drew into view. It wasn’t nearly as busy as Justin had expected it to be, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He walked into the store and headed straight back to the sporting goods section.
The girl who came to help him had to send for her manager, as she wasn’t old enough to handle ammunition. When the manager – a dark-haired, petite French woman with delicate features and chocolate eyes, whose name tag read ‘Alyse’ – showed up five minutes later, Justin had already grabbed another hiking backpack, several instant hiking meals, a water-purification system, a camp stove with a few bottles of propane, and a couple of wicked looking hunting knives.
“You look like you are going on a hunting trip,” the manager commented as she approached.
Justin nodded. “The season opens soon,” he answered. “I need to get everything ready.”
She glanced at him, a small smile on her lips. “I will need to see your Possession Licence,” she told him as she opened the ammunition cabinet. Justin showed her the card, and she gestured to the cabinet. “What do you need?”
“All of the .270 ammunition you’ve got,” he answered. When she hesitated, he grinned. “I just got a new gun and I need to sight it in before I head out.”
She nodded and picked up a store basket that had been sitting beside one of the pillars that marked the aisles. “I am going on a hunting trip tonight, also,” she whispered. “My husband is getting our car ready as we speak. I also need to sight in my rifle. Fortunately for you, I use a 7mm.”
Justin noticed that the shelf where the 7mm ammunition was stored had been cleared out. “Do you follow politics?” he inquired softly.
“Politics?” she paused in placing boxes of ammunition into the basket, her head tilted to one side. “Some. Mostly, however, I am a student of history. The French have a long, violent history, non? Did you think to look at our camouflage?”
Justin paused.
“Go, I will take these to the front for you.”
Justin raced to the camouflage section and pulled out several pairs of pants and a pair of jackets that would fit both Lisa and himself. He was even able to find a set that would almost fit James, though they would be a little large for him yet. He stuffed the clothing into the backpack, and hurried to the front. He met up with the manager at the checkout, where she shooed the cashier away and rang his order in. He noticed that she only scanned one in every three of the boxes of ammunition, and never opened the backpack, though it was obvious it was full of gear. “Good luck in your hunt,” she told him as she took his money.
He nodded to her. “And you,” he replied. “Don’t forget to take some water with you on your hunt. Hunting is thirsty work.”
She blinked, and then nodded. “I had forgotten to put it on my list. Thank you.” Discreetly she placed a medium sized duffle bag on the counter. It was obvious that there was already something in the bag. “You should probably place your purchases in this, as the plastic bags don’t carry much weight.”
Justin peered inside to see a cardboard case with “G-31” written on it. Beside it were several boxes of .357 ammunition. He caught his breath, but then quickly began placing the rest of his ammunition into the bag. He nodded to the woman. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“Soon, I think, more people will wish they had gone hunting. I do not wish to be here tomorrow,” she replied, equally quietly. “You have a family?” At his quick nod, she continued. “You are going away from the city. Good. Keep them safe.”
With a final smile, she turned and left the till. Justin stared after her for a moment, and heaved up the backpack, grabbed the heavy duffle bag, and began the long hike home.
The truck was waiting in the driveway when he arrived, and Lisa was placing a blue tarp over the box. Justin hurried up and placed the new pack and duffle under the tarp. He noticed that she had already packed up the backpacks with clothing. He smiled tightly at her.
“You read my mind.”
“I do that,” she replied, her voice tense with suppressed emotion. “It’s part of why you married me.”
Justin grinned, and then headed inside. He went straight for the basement, where he kept his hunting rifle. Like the backpacks, the gun hadn’t been used since James was born; he just hadn’t found the time or money to get out of the city in the last few years. As he placed the rifle into the padded gun bag, Lisa entered the storage room where they had placed the gun safe.
“Where are we going, Justin?” she asked, her face pale.
“To the cabin, for now. It’s the safest place I can think of. Calgary and Edmonton are both too dangerous. If the US declares war, and I’m betting Congress is going to go for it, they’ll hit the major cities as quickly as they can. Once the missiles start to fall, the cities are going to be crazy. People are going to panic, and I don’t want to be around when they do.”
“So why the gun?” she protested.
“Because not everyone will stay in the cities, Lisa,” he snapped. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself. He turned and faced her. “I won’t let some nut job that stumbles across the cabin threaten my family. If war comes, babe, things are going to get really, really bad.”
“And if it doesn’t? If you’re just being paranoid?”
Justin shrugged. “If I’m wrong, we’ll have a weekend at the cabin. That’s all.”
Lisa stared hard at him, her green eyes worried. “You don’t think you’re wrong, do you?”
“Lisa,” he whispered, “I pray to God I am. Unfortunately, I don’t think He’s going to answer this one.”