(Meanwhile, in White House)

"How's the situation looking out there?"

Pouring myself a glass of straight bourbon, I glanced at my head of security, Mike Sheldon. Him and four other guards were armed with either assault rifles or submachine guns. Their suits, just like mine, were dirty and had blood splatter all over them. Other than what's remaining of my security detail, there were three other people in here: My son Aubrey, the Secretary of Defense Bill Mayer, and the former President of the United States Calvin Posh.

Letting his finger off the communication device in his ear, Mike looks at me with a solemn expression and says.

"...It's not looking good sir. Most of the White House is already overrun with infected personnel and it's our numbers are slowly dropping. Just now, I've received word that both Vice President Lundon and his wife have died."

"...I see."

Hearing his words, I released a deep sigh as I took the glass halfway filled with bourbon and drank it all in one gulp. The burning sensation of the alcohol followed by the sweet smell of vanilla helped calm me somewhat.

After I was done, I rolled out one of the many seats in the conference room and sat on it. Once I was seated, Mike continued.

"One of the remaining men providing security on his side said that on their way here to the White House, the Vice President's vehicle veered off the road and crashed into a tree. As it turned out, the reason they crashed was because Vice President Lundon's head of security got infected and attacked them."

"...Of all times, he had to choose this week to take a vacation in the mountains...He was a good man, him and his wife. Sigh, may they rest in peace."

"..."

Everyone in the room gives the couple a moment of silence. When the moment of silence was over…

"Mr. President, what should we do now?"

My son asked me this with a hint of worry on his face. His hair was a little disheveled and a five o'clock shadow was apparent on his face...Sigh, it's been tough on him.

Not even two days have passed and we've been through hell and back. The White House was suddenly overrun by a mysterious disease, turning colleagues into feral monsters. If it wasn't for the fact that the same situation was happening in many other places of the world such as in China and Russia, I would've thought that this whole thing was orc.h.e.s.trated by them.

However, like me, I'm sure they have a hint on who's behind this. Even more so when our intelligence agencies were exchanging information about 'them'.

...We should've started operations to take care of 'them' the moment their activities got out of hand. Sigh, too bad time has no rewind button.

Anyways, then we had the not so pleasant experience of having to fight for our lives as we made our way into P.E.O.C. due to the fact that so many of the White House staff became infected. Although I knew a lot of people worked here, I have to say, there's a lot of damn people here. To make matters worse, I lost the majority of my security detail on the way, resulting in only seven agents left.

But despite experiencing all this, Aubrey is still trying his best to keep calm. He makes me proud to have him as a son. I'm sure his mother would be too, bless her soul.

"There's nothing much we can do son. The military has already been deployed to various areas of the United States, trying to salvage the situation. We got the C.D.C. trying their hardest to research and find a cure for this deadly disease. What more can we do? We can't ask for aid from our allies since they're facing the same thing we are so the only thing we can do is try to push through this entire ordeal to the best of our ability. We have to believe in our U.S. citizens."

As a matter of fact, I hope they'll help the military in fighting against the infected. They have way more guns than the military after all!

"But how long are we going to stay in here? Are we even going to survive that long?"

"Don't underestimate this bunker boy. It's way bigger than you think it is."

Using his cane to rise up from his chair, former President, Calvin Posh interjected.

"What do you mean, Mr. Posh?"

Not understanding what he meant, Aubrey has a puzzled expression on his face. Showing a wry smile, I get up from my chair and pat my son on the shoulder.

"It's exactly as Mr. Posh says. This bunker is way bigger than this. It's the reason why despite losing so many people, we had to make it here. Isn't that right Bill?"

"Yes, Mr. President."

Turning my head, I asked Bill. He was adjusting the rifle sling on his rifle so that it would hang comfortably on his torso.

"Follow me."

"Woah!"

"'Woah' indeed. Originally built in WW2 and later modified in the 00s, this bunker has five floors and is able to withstand a nuclear strike!"

At Mr. Posh's revelation, Aubrey dropped his jaw in astonishment. Showing a satisfied smile as if he managed to show off in front of a child, Mr. Posh swaggered into the elevator. He was then followed by me, Bill, Aubrey, and the rest of my security detail.

Once everybody was in, I pressed the button for the lowest floor, the fifth floor. After I was done with that, I silently stared at myself in the not so clear reflection on the elevator doors. And I must say, I'm not looking so good.

My once slicked back salt and pepper hair is now disheveled, I have bags under my eyes, a five o'clock shadow, and I dried blood on my suit. Looking at myself like this for a good few moments…

"Haha!"

I busted out laughing.

"...You okay dad?"

No longer being bothered to call me Mr. President anymore, Aubrey asked me a little worried. Everyone else was the same as well, albeit, they only showed it through their eyes. At this…

"Hahaha!"

I laughed even more. And in the midst of my laughter, I said.

"To think that 20 years ago, I, who was once a Navy SEAL, a warrior who went to hell and back would look like this and needed to be protected. Isn't the irony funny?"

"You're a boomer sir."

"...Didn't have to say it like that."

Not sparing me any feelings, Mike said ruthlessly. By this time, we reached the last floor and the elevator doors opened.

And what we were met with was a crowd of people numbering close to 20 people aiming their guns at us. They were ready to fire at a moment's notice.

"Mr. President!"

Once they found out it was us. The guards lowered their weapons and gave me a salute. In return, I also saluted.

"Is everything under control here?"

I asked. This place didn't get breached did it?

"Everything is under control here sir. Follow me and I'll lead you to your quarters."

The man I'm assuming is in charge here, said as he turned around. Giving a short 'will do', we followed behind him.

When we arrived, I entered my residential quarters alone. It was a spacious area with a kitchen, a living room, a master bedroom and three extra rooms.

"Isn't this too much?"

Seeing how needlessly luxurious it was, I couldn't help but be a little angry. Is this where taxpayer money went? A bunker is made to be practical and utilitarian, not a five star suite!

"Sigh, f*ck it. I'm going to bed."

Not bothering to shower or change, I just flopped onto the bed and slowly drifted to sleep. My last thought before I went to dreamland was whether or not I should activate Project ReVive.