Former President Robert Milton slid the disk into the main computer with a look of hatred that few would have recognized from his time in office. Once exalted, he was now reduced to massage-boy for the current administration and he'd volunteered for this part of covering the centuries old lie.
Clearly trying to hurry, the man looked over his shoulder repeatedly while typing in codes. He placed his hand on the scanner and the lights in the room flashed to deep red. Stepping over what was obviously a body, the broken man took a marker from the neat desk and began to write on the wall before the screen went to black.
The second tape was shorter. Only four seconds, it was a brief flash of the same traitor, now putting the shiny black barrel of a gun in his mouth. Hands already stained with blood, there was a violent, crimson flash and the former President slumped to the floor. His message glared at the crimson-streaked camera lenses.
"I did it for my country, because my country would not." These two clips only circulated for a few minutes before the stations airing them went to static and didn't return, but it was enough. The people knew the truth. There hadn't been a terrorist attack, the government had caused it. America, and the world, had been betrayed!
As to why - that didn't become clear for a long time after the War, and even then, only a select few discovered the secrets…there were bigger atrocities to be faced.
3
In northern Florida, a twenty megaton ICBM caused the swampy shelf to begin cracking like window glass. The blinding flash was felt as far away as the Virginias, where fleeing citizens were stuck in crammed lanes of traffic on Interstate 81, with no way to avoid the danger. Nor could they escape the long convoy of draft trucks that were battering their way through the wrecks and vehicles in the grassy median, following orders with no exceptions.
Brady - Virginia
"All males will surrender to the Draft! If you resist or run, you will be shot!"
The faint bullhorn woke those who had been dozing in the uncomfortable seats of the cold Greyhound bus, and a ripple of warning went through the armed man sitting against the frosty window. People were standing to look, muttering among themselves, but the grunt remained still, waiting to see how he should react.
"Hey!"
"He hit an old guy with his gun! They can't do that!"
"They just shot a woman! Murder! Call 911!"
Sergeant Brady used his military voice to be heard over the din, "Everybody out! Make room!"