The Night Everything Changed

Posted on Tuesday August 13th, 2024 @ 6:39pm by President Jack Ryan
Edited on on Monday February 3rd, 2025 @ 7:32pm

844 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Short Storys
Location: Secretary of Agriculture's Office Building, Washington, D.C.
Timeline: 9:10 PM, the night of the State of the Union Address

Jack Killright sat in his office, the soft glow of the television illuminating the room. The President’s State of the Union Address was playing, and Jack, with a cold beer in hand, watched attentively. His wife, Emily, was nearby, casually flipping through a magazine but occasionally glancing up at the screen.

“It feels strange being here instead of there,” Jack said, the thought lingering in his mind. Being named the designated survivor had always felt like a formality, but tonight it granted him a rare night away from the Capitol.

Emily looked up with a gentle smile. “At least we get to spend some time together. It’s nice to have a quiet evening for a change.”

Jack nodded, appreciating the calm. The President’s voice filled the room, recounting the administration’s successes and laying out future plans. Jack took another sip of his beer, feeling a sense of pride as he heard mention of policies he had helped shape. It was satisfying to know he was contributing to the country’s progress, even if he wasn’t in the spotlight tonight.

Then, without warning, the screen went black. The room was suddenly filled with a heavy silence. Jack frowned, leaning forward, confused. The audio had cut out entirely, and there was no signal coming through from the live feed.

“What the…?” Jack muttered, his mind racing. He stood up, his concern growing. Emily looked up from her magazine, sensing something was wrong.

“Jack, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice tinged with worry.

“I don’t know,” he replied, his eyes glued to the blank screen. “Something’s happened.”

Driven by an overwhelming need to see what was happening outside, Jack moved quickly to the large window that overlooked the Capitol. Just as he reached for the curtains, his phone buzzed violently on his desk. He grabbed it, his hands trembling. It was his security detail, their voices sharp and filled with urgency.

“Sir, we need to move. Now!”

“What’s going on?” Jack demanded, his anxiety mounting. The silence from the television was unnerving, and he needed answers.

“There’s been an attack, sir. The Capitol has been hit. We need to get you to a secure location immediately.”

“The President? The Cabinet?” Jack’s voice was tight with fear, desperate for information.

“Unconfirmed, sir,” the agent replied, his tone grim. “But we have to assume the worst. Please, sir, follow us—now!”

Before Jack could respond, the door to his office burst open, and his security detail rushed in, assault rifles at the ready. Their faces were tense, their movements brisk and efficient. Emily gasped at the sight of the heavily armed agents, her eyes wide with fear.

“Sir, step away from the window!” one of the agents commanded, his voice firm and authoritative.

But Jack’s instincts overrode the warnings. Ignoring the agent’s plea, he yanked the curtains aside and stared out into the night.

What he saw made his blood run cold.

A massive fireball was rising from the direction of the Capitol Building, its orange and red flames illuminating the dark sky. Smoke billowed into the air, and Jack could see the distant outline of the Capitol dome, now engulfed in flames. The sheer scale of the devastation was overwhelming—a scene from a nightmare come to life.

Emily clutched his arm, her voice trembling with terror. “Oh my God, Jack…”

“Mr. Killright, we have to go!” one of the agents shouted, snapping him out of his daze. “Now, sir!”

The gravity of the situation hit him like a freight train. He had been the designated survivor, a title that had always seemed symbolic. But now, in this terrifying moment, it was all too real.

The agents hustled Jack and Emily out of the office, their assault rifles ready as they moved swiftly through the building. The familiar surroundings blurred as they were rushed down the hallway and into a waiting car, the doors slamming shut behind them. Jack sat in stunned silence, his heart racing, as the convoy sped off into the night.

The city lights whizzed by in a blur, but Jack’s mind was still back at the Capitol, where he had just witnessed the unthinkable. As they neared the White House, he turned to the lead agent, his voice trembling with fear and urgency. “What about the President? The Vice President?”

The agent hesitated, then finally met Jack’s eyes. “Sir… the President and the Vice President are dead. Most of the Cabinet is gone. You’re the President now.”

The words hit Jack like a sledgehammer. Emily gasped beside him, clutching his hand tightly as the full weight of the situation sank in. He was no longer just the Secretary of Agriculture. He was now the President of the United States.

As the convoy pulled up to the White House gates, Jack knew there was no turning back. The country was in chaos, and it was up to him—an unlikely and unprepared leader—to pick up the pieces.

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