[b][i]High Command Underground Bunker, Below Washington D.C.[/i][/b]




	President Jefferson Blake found himself sitting in the center of the oversized round table that was situated in the center of an underground bunker that until today, he didn't know existed. He knew that there were underground tunnels beneath the capitol city, which various government personnel could access in the event of an enemy attack or another emergency, however, until the alien ships arrived over Earth, he had no idea just how elaborate the underground bunker was. The bunker itself had been inspired by long forgotten plans for an expansive underground network that the government could operate from in the event of a direct nuclear attack. The Deep Underground Command Center was supposed to be the perfect fail safe for the government should the city above be destroyed. However, plans for the complex had been abandoned in 1965 when President Johnson dismissed the idea the most idiotic thing he had ever heard in his life. 

	However, the idea had been revived in the mid 1970's, and President Blake was thankful for that. He sat at the table, looking at the vast monitor arrays which showed satellite images of the sheer destruction that the invaders had wrought upon the world. San Francisco was gone, Hawaii had been ravaged by a tsunami. All across the globe, from Germany to Japan, From Russia to North Korea, cities lay in ruins. Untold millions were dead, and from what he could see, those could be conservative estimates. Yet here he sat, at this large round table with high ranking members of his cabinet, the Joint Chiefs of Staff as well as Congressional leadership, trying to figure out exactly what they were going to do next. 

	“What I don't understand is, why didn't they take out our satellites? They went to all this trouble to attack us, how could they have an oversight like that?” Senator Beth Lewis asked.

	“It wasn't an oversight.-” General Hoskins, a member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff said bluntly. “-They didn't care if we had the satellites. They don't think we're a threat to them.”

	“Be that as it may, we're not fighting blind. There's significant resistance in Pacific Point, as well as in Lost Haven.” Another general began.

	“Which is expected, both cities have large metahuman populations. We can move forces from Point Loma in San Diego to Pacific Point to back up the Metas there, and we can mobilize from Fort Devens, air support could get to Lost Haven in under a half hour, ground support would take longer, but with the Guardians on the ground there, we may have more time.” Hoskins said.

	President Blake listened as they talked strategy, and he honestly didn't like the options presented. Regardless of who was fighting on the front lines in Lost Haven, the President knew that they may not [i][b]have[/b][/i] hours. There had to be a better option, and the President believed that he may just have that option available.

	“That's not good enough. We may not have a country, hell, a planet in a few hours. We need something that can deploy much faster, and with more firepower.-” President Blake spoke up. “-We need S.T.R.I.K.E.”

	“With all do respect Mr President, S.T.R.I.K.E died with Anderson. We need to focus on what we still have, and how best to deploy it.” Hoskins shot back.

	“Well General, that's not entirely true.-” President Blake said. “-Isn't that right, Director?” As the President finished speaking, a hidden door at the side of the subterranean conference room slid open, and into the room walked a ghost, a man thought to have been killed in an attack perpetrated by the terrorist organization, The Hounds of Humanity, Director Alexander Anderson himself.

	“Oh General, as the old saying goes, the rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.” Anderson said as he took a seat next to the President.