“And that boys, is how you win at poker.” John said as he showed his winning hand. He was on a lucky streak tonight.
A series of “come on, shit” escaped the mouths of half a dozen men. The night was turning to daylight, fast. Consoles with big screens, dim lights and the faint scent of sweaty men marked the room. It was the late night shift, and nothing had happened.
John got up from his chair, he wanted to use the washroom. “Double or nothing, what do you say fellas?” He said smuggling. John was in his late 60s, hitting retirement age barely.
“Hey John, there’s something weird happening on screen.” said Bob, a young man and first week on the job.
“What rookie? It’s probably nothing, some of these machines are older than your mom.” John said, securing a laughter from the other four men who edged around 50.
“The object is coming from the east, with speeds exceeding an ICBM.” Bob said once more.
“Which is impossible, nothing is that fast. Check the Russians, if they haven’t launched then it is nothing.” John said.
*Ring ring* A phone went off. John, with a puzzled look on his face, went towards the phone and answered. His face changed from relaxed to utter alert in the blink of an eye.
“Yes sir!” John said, then dropped the call.
“Sound the alert. We are under attack. DEFCON has been raised to Level 3.” John shouted.
“I am tracking missile route.” Bob said.
“It’s New York sir, it is heading for New York!”The dread in the room was unfathomable...