Chapter 1

[Rebecca Talon]

March 17, 1998
20:38 EST
Off the Coast of Massachusetts

Commander Rebecca Sandoval of the guided missile destroyer USS Robert Burke was in her bunk reading the latest Diana Gabelton novel when there was a knock on her door.

Sighing she slid out of bed. An ensign was standing there. "What is it Ensign?"

"The OOD reports that we are being ordered to Nantucket sir."

"Any explanation?"

"No. Sir," the junior officer stated.

Rebecca picked up her khaki uniform shirt and pulled it on as she exited the cabin. Her cap was under her left arm as she buttoned up the shirt, and tucked it in.

She was one of the few officers on board that hadn't gone to Annapolis. She had opted to spend her first four years in the Navy amongst the enlisted ranks right out of high school.fw

"Captain on deck," the ensign announced when they had stepped onto the bridge."

"As you were. Report Mr. Talon."

Lt. Milo Talon had been the Officer On Duty, and saluted the captain. "Atlantic Command reports a strange phenomenon is occurring over the Island. We are being ordered to investigate."

"Very well, Mr. Hillard set course if you please. Maintain current speed."

"Setting course aye," the helmsman replied.

"Ms. Cuddy, are there any ships in the vicinity?"

The radar operator looked up from her screen. "Aye. We were tracking the Eagle as it sailed around the island."


The USCGC Eagle was a 295 foot, three masted barque taken as war reparations at the end of World War Two. It had since passed onto the US Coast Guard as a training vessel.

That was Captain Marian Alston's ship, Rebecca told herself. She had met the older black woman while serving on the USS Constitution, and they had become close professional friends.

"Hail the Eagle."

"Robert Burke to Eagle, come in," the radio operator said into his microphone. There was a long pause of static before he tried again, "This is the USS Robert Burke calling Coast Guard Cutter Eagle." The radio operator shook his head when he looked at the captain.

"Problem with the radio?"

"No sir. Radio is working properly."

"Keep trying Mr. Davies. Helm increase speed to 3/4."

"Three-quarter, aye."

Rebecca stepped forward with binoculars and peered into the night towards the general direction of the island.

A halo of light hung over the island. The seas felt like a nor'easter. Choppy, and rooster tails rolled over the sharp point of the bow.

"This isn't any kind of weather I've ever experienced," she stated.

"Sir! The compass," the navigator yelped in suprise

Rebecca went to the crewman's side to look down at the compass, as it spun. It was a modern gyroscope type, and digitally controlled.

"Sound general quarters," Rebecca ordered. "I need depth readings."

She stopped, and for the second time tonight she was witnessing the unexpected. A dome of fire hung in the distance.

Pain lanced through the back of her eyes, as she was washed by a blinding white light. She gritted her teeth against the agony, but others in her crew moaned or gasped. Then darkness.

She blinked trying to get her mind to make sense of what she was experiencing. The pain was gone as fast as it had come. But, the silence...

"Report," she ordered looking around in the complete darkness. "Can we get some lights in here?" It was at that point that she realized everything was dead.

"Everything is dead captain," Hillard stated. "No power to anything. It's like we were hit with an EMP."

* * *

"Uh-oh. Not fucking good. Not good at all," Jeremiah Wallace hissed under his breath as he ducked behind a car.

He drew his department issued Glock 19 and peered around the front of the car. A group of three gangbangers were huddled around talking to themselves. They were all armed with baseball bats and one had what looked like a fire axe.

Not for the first time tonight Jeremiah wished for the radio on his belt to work. He hadn't hear so much as a squawk since the blinding pain.

Milwaukee wasn't silent by any stretch of the imagination, but the sounds were different. Before there was always sirens, cars, and people going about their lives.

Now, the streets were filled with looters, and desperate shouts and screams as the strong preyed on the weak.

In the distance the city was outlined by three separate angry fires spewing black smoke into the sky. Each one would have the remains of a jetliner in the center. One had looked to be a 747 as it fell out of the sky overhead. Jeremiah tried not to think about those who must have been aboard.

The shattering of glass yanked his attention back to the gangbangers. One of the had used their bat to smash the window of the Pawn shop.

Standing Jeremiah held his pistol in position. "Police department. Put your hands on your head and lay face down."

The banger with the axe turned, and laughed, "Run along piggy, before you get hurt." He was obviously the leader of the bunch.

He motioned with his chin to one of his companions, and an enormous black man with a bald head stepped forward. The bat in his hand looked toy tiny, and he had a predator's grin showing a row of gold plated teeth.

"Step back motherfucker! Now!"

Juggernaut continued to thunder forward.

"Stop or I will shoot!"

He continued.

Jeremiah squeezed the trigger, and the gun popped, and the bullet traveled down the barrel and dropped harmlessly on the ground a few feet in front of him.

It was nothing like he was used to. There was no heavy thump, and ear splitting crack. It was more akin to a toy cap gun.

He racked the slide in desperation, as the old case had not been ejected. He pulled the trigger again. This time he was point blank, and the bullet bounced off the other man's chest.

Uh-oh, he thought to himself. He flipped the pistol in his hand and using the gun as a club he smashed the butt as hard as he could the other man's temple. He fell nearly noiselessly to the ground.