A bird is flying through the sky. On the wings of it are the blood and tears of the people who have been killed in the invasion. The bomb was nearing Moscow. But by the time the bomb crossed the Atlantic, Russia sent an identical one straight for America.
The United States was thrown into chaos. Complete chaos. Murders, stealing, rapes, suicides. No one cared. They wanted to live their lives out in the final 30 minutes they had. This final 30 minutes was hell. They had no idea where the bomb is going. Washington? New York? L.A.? All they could do was pray. Pray they would live to see just one more sunset. One more Christmas. One more New Years. One more birthday. But it quickly was becoming obvious that in 30 minutes, for someone, that would not happen.
Russia's prime minister contacted President Wilton. He told him that the Cold War never really ended. He told him that he was fed up with America, and their ways. He said he warned America before. He said China was always right there with him.President Wilton didn't believe it.
But amongst all this mayhem, the news came. Moscow was hit. Dead center. From St. Petersburg to Samara, and all the space between, there was nothing. From Perm to Russias eastern border, there was nothing. The entire west half of Russia was gone. Completely obliterated.
In the midst of all this, Russia launched two additional h-bombs. It was certain two of the 3 bombs sent by Russia were heading for New York City and Washington. The third was assumed to be L.A.
The estimated time of that the first bomb would hit was 6:02. It was 5:58.
There were no fallout shelters.
Time passed, and the first bomb hit the heart of America. New York City. Manhattan was gone. New Jersey, gone. Half of Pennslyavania, gone. Only one bomb had hit, and America was already on its knees. Completely obliterated.