I have to go back and check now....USS Alabama was moved from her normal berth over to the southeast side of Mobile Bay pre-strike. The Mississippi Gulf Coast was hammered pretty hard...
Protect & Survive Miami: End of Watch
- Thread starter wolverinethad
- Start date
Keep in mind communication is a bear right now. The Florida guys know the list is incomplete, in fact, if everyone is in a basement in Valdosta, they probably haven't looked outside.
A lot isn't known about Georgia, so I suppose I'll have creative license to work with.
A lot isn't known about Georgia, so I suppose I'll have creative license to work with.
I can't tell which Carter you're referring to.@Tsar of New Zealand Come on now, things are bad enough as they are!
He wrote the song eight years before the Exchange. I have no idea if Billy made it out alive, but by God, he predicted the day.
Post-strike interlude
"Reached out a hand to touch your face
You're slowly disappearing from my view
Disappearing from my view
https://genius.com/A-flock-of-seagulls-i-ran-so-far-away-lyrics#note-1828947
Reached out a hand to try again
I'm floating in a beam of light with you
A beam of light with you"
"Nina....Nina, where are we? How are you here? I was in Miami, in America."
"I was home in Leningrad, and then the sirens went off. I took Misha and went to the Metro as they told me."
"My plane had been shot down, and I ejected, and was hiding in an apartment."
Andrei reached out to touch Nina, but couldn't feel her at all. Everything around them was white. Andrei saw others, nearby but distant at the same time.
"I'm sorry, Nina. I'm sorry I wasn't with you."
"It's okay, Andrei. You did your duty. You are here now."
You're slowly disappearing from my view
Disappearing from my view
https://genius.com/A-flock-of-seagulls-i-ran-so-far-away-lyrics#note-1828947
Reached out a hand to try again
I'm floating in a beam of light with you
A beam of light with you"
A Flock of Seagulls, "I Ran (So Far Away)"
"Andrei, is that you?"
"Nina....Nina, where are we? How are you here? I was in Miami, in America."
"I was home in Leningrad, and then the sirens went off. I took Misha and went to the Metro as they told me."
"My plane had been shot down, and I ejected, and was hiding in an apartment."
Andrei reached out to touch Nina, but couldn't feel her at all. Everything around them was white. Andrei saw others, nearby but distant at the same time.
"I'm sorry, Nina. I'm sorry I wasn't with you."
"It's okay, Andrei. You did your duty. You are here now."
We have to make it part of P&S canon then. I looked it up...Billy Joel was on tour at the time, in Norfolk VA on February 17, and in Murfreesboro, TN on February 19. ITTL he was in Orlando on the day of the Exchange, but we could write it in that he survived in Tennessee near Murfreesboro provided that city wasn't hit
I would imagine that a lot of tours would have been cancelled either by the artists' decision or with heavy prompting from state and local governments. Presumably most musicians would have gone to ground somewhere safer, except for the ones who stayed in their big-city homes to die in defiance (think Bob Dylan in @Geon's most excellent fleshing out of The Cuban Missile War, putting Dylan in a Greenwich Village during the exchange, playing A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall as he, his audience and the neighborhood are turned into radioactive vapor).
That last line is moving; at least the Soviet bomber pilot didn't suffer, along with his family...
Waiting for more, of course...
The tour organizers and the artists managers could also have been involved in any such decisions to cancel such tours given such circumstances. Such tours could easily be hampered by the State and or the Local governments ordering the venues that the artists on tour were scheduled to play in to be completely closed down "Until Further Notice" and given the circumstances such tours would with the outbreak of war would likely not be worth the trouble due to these factors - 1. The aforementioned closings of such venues, 2. The roads that are going in and out of the major cities being made to be for outbound traffic only (Although it will not stop the major traffic jams that will ensue) , 3. A anticipated lack of attendance due to the circumstances (The potential fans fleeing the cities). Those various tours that were actually cancelled we're not likely announced to the public as being cancelled but as being postponed indefinitely or until further notice.
Just waiting for more...
Edit: At least the downed Soviet pilots didn't suffer too much...
On a side note, if there were any Soviet planes shot down in Florida I would not want to be an ejecting Soviet bomber crew member because, if you get caught by angry civilians, well...it won't be pleasant, is all I'm saying (just look up the title of a certain Billie Holiday song, and apply those lyrics to the surviving bomber crews)...
Edit: At least the downed Soviet pilots didn't suffer too much...
On a side note, if there were any Soviet planes shot down in Florida I would not want to be an ejecting Soviet bomber crew member because, if you get caught by angry civilians, well...it won't be pleasant, is all I'm saying (just look up the title of a certain Billie Holiday song, and apply those lyrics to the surviving bomber crews)...
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An untimely demise of my nearly-finished draft has forced me to start the next chapter over. Terribly sorry to all of you, I simply don't know what happened to it.
Chapter 47
Chapter 47
February 27, 1984
0700 hours
Gainesville, Florida
********************FLASH TRAFFIC********************
TO: FLAGOV, FLAAG, FLADCD
FROM: CINCFNG
Communications reestablished with Florida State Prison in Raiford. They are running low on generator fuel and food (suspect miscalculation for their allotment), morale is low amongst security, and no relief in sight. Warden requests permission to execute Op-Plan WILLY LOMAN. Warden also reports an additional nuclear detonation in direction of Jacksonville that wasn't in our count from N-Day. We believe detonation to be NAS Cecil Field, which, given its proximity to NAS Jacksonville, likely explains how our airborne spotters missed it.
I will transmit your reply as soon as you make it known.
--Ensslin
**********************END FLASH***********************
Governor Graham was a little surprised at the telex on his desk when he got to work. He knew the prison wasn't the first priority for supplies, at the same time, they hardly wanted a prison break, and a total loss of power would make it more likely that would happen. He'd ream out the commissioner of agriculture, who was in charge of fuel distribution, later, but right now, he needed to make a decision he'd dreaded and put off. It was a lot harder to enact WILLY LOMAN than it had been to speed up a few executions. The AG, Graham knew, was of similar mindset. He was sure General Ensslin wouldn't care what happened, but somehow, Graham felt civilian rule of law had to be maintained, even in the apocalypse.
And yet, order was needed too.
Graham prayed he was making the correct decision. He picked up his pen and wrote out his reply to Ensslin, and then had his secretary walk it down to the command center.
*****
Florida State Prison
Raiford, Florida
0910 hours
The warden of the Florida State Prison had spent the past ten days in a heightened state of anxiety. His wife was somewhere around Tallahassee, and every day, he prayed she was alive still. His only son had died in a car accident two years ago, and he felt now that it'd probably been merciful, something that would've seemed absurd a scant two months prior. His guards and shift leaders were nearing burnout, the prisoners were on the brittle edge of riot with food portions slightly reduced and a week without exercise. The lack of sunlight was not helping matters. Maintenance men had gone around unscrewing lightbulbs in hallways to reduce power consumption a bit, regardless, the fuel allocation had clearly been screwed up.
The teleprinter in the office clattered to life. The warden turned around and ripped off the sheet. It was very brief, but to the point. His hand shook a little and he re-read it carefully.
******************EYES-ONLY FSP WARDEN********************
TO: Warden, FSP
FROM: FLAGOV
At earliest possible time, execute WILLY LOMAN, Option 2. We will transport fuel as soon as possible.
--GRAHAM
**********************END DISPATCH***********************
The warden picked up the hailer. "All shift leaders, please report to the warden's office. All shift leaders, please report to the warden's office." Only two shifts worth of guards had been bunkered up at the prison due to space constraints. Cots had been set up in the workshops and one prisoner lounge, but instead of eight-hour shifts, each group was working 12, without being able to do much washing up. They missed their families, had no clue whether any of them were alive or not. The lack of communications for five days was simply an extra burden on people already carrying a heavy emotional weight. The warden was doing his best, like everyone who'd survived this godforsaken war, but he didn't know how much longer the guards would hold up.
A knock, and the shift leaders entered the office. "Good morning, sir, what's going on? Any news?" asked one of them. "Well, fuel will come as soon as possible, whatever that means in this environment. Not why I called you here, though. We've received orders to execute WILLY LOMAN, option two." One of the more senior shift leaders, Sergeant Andrews, let out a low whistle. "Sir, that's unlikely to be very popular around here. We might have a more agitated population than we already do. It's getting touchy out there," Andrews said. The warden looked over to him. "Andrews, the alternative is we start starving to death while waiting for relief. I'm not going to shed any tears for what happens to anyone covered by option two. I want you to go into the gym and start prepping. Anyone who gets moved there stays shackled. No runners. This will buy us some time and take care of a major headache for us. Anyone who gets out of line elsewhere is welcome to join the option two crowd. Are we clear?" Andrews nodded. "Yes, sir." The men filed out of the office and headed down to the prisoner gym, which consisted of some dumbbells, a basketball half-court, and some rubber balls, which were used for dodgeball. The warden thought it was a good idea for the average prisoner to let out aggression in a more controlled manner, and surprisingly, it'd worked. Now, nobody was getting out of their cells for quite a while.
The basketball court was covered by plastic sheeting and secured with gaffers tape at the edges by a few delegated guards, while others went to the cells on their list with a shift leader. Roughly three dozen prisoners were collected, shackled, and walked to the gym. When they made the final turn down the hallway, they thought they were getting some much-desired free space and time. When they were ordered to line up on the sheeting, though, the prisoners were quickly disabused of that notion, and the shouting began....until Sgt. Andrews fired a starter's pistol in the air. The noise quickly died down. Andrews pulled out a piece of paper.
"By order of the governor of Florida, pursuant to the Emergency Powers Act of 1984, your execution dates have been accelerated to today. May God have mercy on your souls." The sergeant stepped back, and the riflemen stepped forward. Each prisoner was dispatched with alacrity, single precision shots to the head delivered by the men, who'd been trained in anticipation of this and spent time at a gun range prior to the start of the war to ensure bullets wouldn't be wasted. Once the prisoners were all dead, the guards loaded them onto gurneys and took them to the prison's incinerator, where their identities were recorded, and time of cremation recorded. In the grand scheme of things, it might not seem like much, but that was 117 less meals a day, and that would help stretch supplies, along with allowing death row to be closed down, saving generator fuel as well. Everyone had to do their part, right?
There were indeed some very angry prisoners who noticed the lack of inmates returning with the guards, but the threat of food being withheld quieted them....for now. When Andrews reported back to the warden, the warden replied that they should count themselves lucky.
Option 1 of WILLY LOMAN was execution of all prisoners with life sentences.
*****
Fort Myers, Florida
1103 hours
"Daddy, I want to go outside!" Jan Klima looked at his daughter with a pained expression. Four-year-olds aren't very good at understanding safety beyond falling off a swingset or touching a hot stove. The idea of having to stay inside because of something invisible was not easily conveyed. "Honey, I know you do, but we can't. It's not safe out there. The radio hasn't told us that we can leave yet," Klima said. "That's not fair!" Adriana began crying after yelling her reply to her father. Everyone else in the crowded apartment looked frustrated. 950 square feet is not all that much space for nearly a dozen people, and enforced confinement exacerbated it. Rosa and Jan took Adriana into one of the bedrooms, where they did their best to calm her down. It wasn't very successful, until there was a knock on the door. Mrs. Simmons came in and handed over a lollipop to Adriana. Immediately, the little girl's anger turned to delight, and she unwrapped the large candy quickly and placed it in her mouth. Rosa mouthed her gratitude to Mrs. Simmons.
"Jan, when are we going to be able to go outside? You said yourself the readings on the Geiger counter weren't dangerous. Why aren't we able to get a little fresh air?" Rosa's question referred to the treks that Simmons and Jan had alternated taking turns doing, dressing in makeshift protective suits made from plastic sheeting and rubber gloves and going out with a Geiger counter that Simmons had brought with them. "Because the Geiger counter doesn't measure certain types of radiation. There's more accurate devices, so while it probably is safe, we can't say for sure. That's why we're waiting for the state to give us the all clear," Jan replied. "They might not even know we're here, Jan! Everything that happened in the center of the state, what if they think we're all dead?" Rosa stifled a sob, not wanting to disturb their daughter, who was "reading" a book while sucking on her lollipop. Klima pulled his wife to him and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sure they don't think we're all dead. They knew enough to broadcast what was hit. The radio announcers aren't pre-recorded. We were always told at least two weeks in MOPP suits and NBC filters back in Germany. It's been almost a week now. The problem is that fallout can travel pretty far in some cases, so God knows what could still come. I hate this too, babe. We'll make it, we just have to be patient."
February 27, 1984
0700 hours
Gainesville, Florida
********************FLASH TRAFFIC********************
TO: FLAGOV, FLAAG, FLADCD
FROM: CINCFNG
Communications reestablished with Florida State Prison in Raiford. They are running low on generator fuel and food (suspect miscalculation for their allotment), morale is low amongst security, and no relief in sight. Warden requests permission to execute Op-Plan WILLY LOMAN. Warden also reports an additional nuclear detonation in direction of Jacksonville that wasn't in our count from N-Day. We believe detonation to be NAS Cecil Field, which, given its proximity to NAS Jacksonville, likely explains how our airborne spotters missed it.
I will transmit your reply as soon as you make it known.
--Ensslin
**********************END FLASH***********************
Governor Graham was a little surprised at the telex on his desk when he got to work. He knew the prison wasn't the first priority for supplies, at the same time, they hardly wanted a prison break, and a total loss of power would make it more likely that would happen. He'd ream out the commissioner of agriculture, who was in charge of fuel distribution, later, but right now, he needed to make a decision he'd dreaded and put off. It was a lot harder to enact WILLY LOMAN than it had been to speed up a few executions. The AG, Graham knew, was of similar mindset. He was sure General Ensslin wouldn't care what happened, but somehow, Graham felt civilian rule of law had to be maintained, even in the apocalypse.
And yet, order was needed too.
Graham prayed he was making the correct decision. He picked up his pen and wrote out his reply to Ensslin, and then had his secretary walk it down to the command center.
*****
Florida State Prison
Raiford, Florida
0910 hours
The warden of the Florida State Prison had spent the past ten days in a heightened state of anxiety. His wife was somewhere around Tallahassee, and every day, he prayed she was alive still. His only son had died in a car accident two years ago, and he felt now that it'd probably been merciful, something that would've seemed absurd a scant two months prior. His guards and shift leaders were nearing burnout, the prisoners were on the brittle edge of riot with food portions slightly reduced and a week without exercise. The lack of sunlight was not helping matters. Maintenance men had gone around unscrewing lightbulbs in hallways to reduce power consumption a bit, regardless, the fuel allocation had clearly been screwed up.
The teleprinter in the office clattered to life. The warden turned around and ripped off the sheet. It was very brief, but to the point. His hand shook a little and he re-read it carefully.
******************EYES-ONLY FSP WARDEN********************
TO: Warden, FSP
FROM: FLAGOV
At earliest possible time, execute WILLY LOMAN, Option 2. We will transport fuel as soon as possible.
--GRAHAM
**********************END DISPATCH***********************
The warden picked up the hailer. "All shift leaders, please report to the warden's office. All shift leaders, please report to the warden's office." Only two shifts worth of guards had been bunkered up at the prison due to space constraints. Cots had been set up in the workshops and one prisoner lounge, but instead of eight-hour shifts, each group was working 12, without being able to do much washing up. They missed their families, had no clue whether any of them were alive or not. The lack of communications for five days was simply an extra burden on people already carrying a heavy emotional weight. The warden was doing his best, like everyone who'd survived this godforsaken war, but he didn't know how much longer the guards would hold up.
A knock, and the shift leaders entered the office. "Good morning, sir, what's going on? Any news?" asked one of them. "Well, fuel will come as soon as possible, whatever that means in this environment. Not why I called you here, though. We've received orders to execute WILLY LOMAN, option two." One of the more senior shift leaders, Sergeant Andrews, let out a low whistle. "Sir, that's unlikely to be very popular around here. We might have a more agitated population than we already do. It's getting touchy out there," Andrews said. The warden looked over to him. "Andrews, the alternative is we start starving to death while waiting for relief. I'm not going to shed any tears for what happens to anyone covered by option two. I want you to go into the gym and start prepping. Anyone who gets moved there stays shackled. No runners. This will buy us some time and take care of a major headache for us. Anyone who gets out of line elsewhere is welcome to join the option two crowd. Are we clear?" Andrews nodded. "Yes, sir." The men filed out of the office and headed down to the prisoner gym, which consisted of some dumbbells, a basketball half-court, and some rubber balls, which were used for dodgeball. The warden thought it was a good idea for the average prisoner to let out aggression in a more controlled manner, and surprisingly, it'd worked. Now, nobody was getting out of their cells for quite a while.
The basketball court was covered by plastic sheeting and secured with gaffers tape at the edges by a few delegated guards, while others went to the cells on their list with a shift leader. Roughly three dozen prisoners were collected, shackled, and walked to the gym. When they made the final turn down the hallway, they thought they were getting some much-desired free space and time. When they were ordered to line up on the sheeting, though, the prisoners were quickly disabused of that notion, and the shouting began....until Sgt. Andrews fired a starter's pistol in the air. The noise quickly died down. Andrews pulled out a piece of paper.
"By order of the governor of Florida, pursuant to the Emergency Powers Act of 1984, your execution dates have been accelerated to today. May God have mercy on your souls." The sergeant stepped back, and the riflemen stepped forward. Each prisoner was dispatched with alacrity, single precision shots to the head delivered by the men, who'd been trained in anticipation of this and spent time at a gun range prior to the start of the war to ensure bullets wouldn't be wasted. Once the prisoners were all dead, the guards loaded them onto gurneys and took them to the prison's incinerator, where their identities were recorded, and time of cremation recorded. In the grand scheme of things, it might not seem like much, but that was 117 less meals a day, and that would help stretch supplies, along with allowing death row to be closed down, saving generator fuel as well. Everyone had to do their part, right?
There were indeed some very angry prisoners who noticed the lack of inmates returning with the guards, but the threat of food being withheld quieted them....for now. When Andrews reported back to the warden, the warden replied that they should count themselves lucky.
Option 1 of WILLY LOMAN was execution of all prisoners with life sentences.
*****
Fort Myers, Florida
1103 hours
"Daddy, I want to go outside!" Jan Klima looked at his daughter with a pained expression. Four-year-olds aren't very good at understanding safety beyond falling off a swingset or touching a hot stove. The idea of having to stay inside because of something invisible was not easily conveyed. "Honey, I know you do, but we can't. It's not safe out there. The radio hasn't told us that we can leave yet," Klima said. "That's not fair!" Adriana began crying after yelling her reply to her father. Everyone else in the crowded apartment looked frustrated. 950 square feet is not all that much space for nearly a dozen people, and enforced confinement exacerbated it. Rosa and Jan took Adriana into one of the bedrooms, where they did their best to calm her down. It wasn't very successful, until there was a knock on the door. Mrs. Simmons came in and handed over a lollipop to Adriana. Immediately, the little girl's anger turned to delight, and she unwrapped the large candy quickly and placed it in her mouth. Rosa mouthed her gratitude to Mrs. Simmons.
"Jan, when are we going to be able to go outside? You said yourself the readings on the Geiger counter weren't dangerous. Why aren't we able to get a little fresh air?" Rosa's question referred to the treks that Simmons and Jan had alternated taking turns doing, dressing in makeshift protective suits made from plastic sheeting and rubber gloves and going out with a Geiger counter that Simmons had brought with them. "Because the Geiger counter doesn't measure certain types of radiation. There's more accurate devices, so while it probably is safe, we can't say for sure. That's why we're waiting for the state to give us the all clear," Jan replied. "They might not even know we're here, Jan! Everything that happened in the center of the state, what if they think we're all dead?" Rosa stifled a sob, not wanting to disturb their daughter, who was "reading" a book while sucking on her lollipop. Klima pulled his wife to him and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sure they don't think we're all dead. They knew enough to broadcast what was hit. The radio announcers aren't pre-recorded. We were always told at least two weeks in MOPP suits and NBC filters back in Germany. It's been almost a week now. The problem is that fallout can travel pretty far in some cases, so God knows what could still come. I hate this too, babe. We'll make it, we just have to be patient."
To quote Oprah Winfrey (who's likely dead ITTL, sadly; her Chicago-based show that would become national started in January of 1984): Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow!
Killing everyone on Florida's death row is harsh but, sadly, it's necessary and brutally pragmatic. Since Bundy was one of the death row inmates, have him shot by a female guard; it would be karmic, since he killed three dozen women and girls (at least). The warden's wife is likely alive, since Tallahassee wasn't hit; just keep her indoors, because Tallahassee is in for some fallout. As for his last victim, 12-year-old Kim Leach, to paraphrase the original P & S, she has all the playmates and friends she could ever want (she was from Lake City, which isn't in the path of any fallout, likely is a center for relief efforts in north Florida (a lot of survivors from Jacksonville have likely made their way there), and it wasn't hit, IIRC)...
West Florida from Bradenton to Naples (if not Sarasota; Sarasota might be too close to the fallout path from Tampa-St. Petersburg) is going to be overrun with refugees from Miami-Fort Lauderdale-West Palm Beach, Orlando, and Tampa-St. Petersburg...
I think everyone at four years old (and older, too) is like Adriana here; I ain't envying any character surviving ITTL. The all-clear will be given soon, hopefully.
Florida got hit nearly as badly as Finland here, only without the snow and divided Communist/Western loyalties of Finland...
Killing everyone on Florida's death row is harsh but, sadly, it's necessary and brutally pragmatic. Since Bundy was one of the death row inmates, have him shot by a female guard; it would be karmic, since he killed three dozen women and girls (at least). The warden's wife is likely alive, since Tallahassee wasn't hit; just keep her indoors, because Tallahassee is in for some fallout. As for his last victim, 12-year-old Kim Leach, to paraphrase the original P & S, she has all the playmates and friends she could ever want (she was from Lake City, which isn't in the path of any fallout, likely is a center for relief efforts in north Florida (a lot of survivors from Jacksonville have likely made their way there), and it wasn't hit, IIRC)...
West Florida from Bradenton to Naples (if not Sarasota; Sarasota might be too close to the fallout path from Tampa-St. Petersburg) is going to be overrun with refugees from Miami-Fort Lauderdale-West Palm Beach, Orlando, and Tampa-St. Petersburg...
I think everyone at four years old (and older, too) is like Adriana here; I ain't envying any character surviving ITTL. The all-clear will be given soon, hopefully.
Florida got hit nearly as badly as Finland here, only without the snow and divided Communist/Western loyalties of Finland...