Disgust brews in General Alexander Wright's gut as he looks over the devastation displayed on every monitor.
The news choppers still haven't gotten a clear shot over what had once been New York City. But from a satellite vantage point, the culprit is all too clear.
Even from high above, the footprints in the sand still look massive yet fragile, as if from the careful steps of a young girl sneaking Oreos from the cookie jar.
She is early.
Too damned early.
There's no use keeping the truth from the public, not anymore. Eventually, somebody will get a shot of the city from above. From all other angles, the footprints simply fade into the expansive dune network—frozen waves of land broken only...
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