Local time – 4:10pm, Friday 15th June, 2011.
New York, USA.
‘How many died in Hiroshima sir?’ the man’s assistant asked, carefully.
‘About 160 thousand. Another 80 in Nagasaki.’
‘And you said the weapons are bigger these days?’
‘Are you starting to lose your nerve? I can smell chicken shit.’
‘I’m not scared. I just want to know what’s going to happen.’
‘A lot of shit is going to happen. I don’t think you really want to know.’ The tall, thin man stood up from his chair and lit a cigarette. He opened the window above his desk so that some of the smoke could escape. His wife hated it when he smoked in the house. The desk in front of him was covered with a large paper map. His assistant had just used an old metal compass to draw a red line around the circumference of the blast zone and was now peering at the blocks of streets within the circle.
‘I know why you think I’m scared. It’s because I ask so many questions. Worried people ask questions. But I’m not worried. I just like to know things. We’re not going to be there to see it. I doubt the TV crews will want to get too close either.’
‘Right you are.’
‘So when the bomb goes off, what will these streets look like?’
‘They’ll look like a nuclear bomb has exploded.’ The older man chuckled.
‘Quite an imagination you have there, sir.’
‘I’ll paint you a picture. Everyone inside that line will be burnt to death before they have time to think about it. Their internal organs will disintegrate. Their skin will melt against their bones. They’ll be charcoal, or burnt black corpses if they’re lucky. The fireball will destroy all the buildings. A few concrete structures might still be standing but there’ll be nothing worth keeping. The blast zone will literally be wiped off the face of the earth. Many in the city outside of your circle will be injured. You know, flash burns, thousands will be blinded, all that shit. The radiation will eventually get to most of them. It’s a densely populated city. I’d guess we’ll kill somewhere between 700 thousand and a mill.’
‘That’s sure to get some attention.’
‘I should bloody well hope so. We’re not doing this for kicks. It’s how we won the war you know. You don’t get that from textbooks. It was the only way. And it’s the only way this time too.’ The man stubbed out his cigarette on the windowsill and flicked the butt into the garden below. ‘Call the car around, I need to get going.’ His assistant stood up and shuffled through papers in his briefcase.
‘Here’s your itinerary sir. I’ve set your watch to Prague time. Your flight leaves in an hour.’
‘Put the map away. I’ll see you when this is done.’ The younger man went to shake his boss’s hand, but he was already gone.