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I should really be working on my other non-Armageddon related fanfics, but I had the urge to start this. I began watching the movie on 11/17/07, then saw it again straight for five days. What can you expect! The movie is amazing!!
This is my first Armageddon fanfiction. I know as much about NASA as a three-toed sloth would so if you’re going to flame me…please don’t base it on that. If you find things that need to be corrected, let me know about it and I’ll gladly fix it.
I don’t own Armageddon (I wish though); it belongs to the people who made the movie (wow, that sounded lame). Ah well.
“Without the proper planning, or time, none of our primary plans can work,” said Dan Truman to the group in front of him.
“Why don’t we send up 150 nukes and blast this thing out of the sky?” asked General Kimsey. Sitting in the large briefing/lounge room in NASA Headquarters, he, among many other researchers and scientists were trying to find a solution to the nearing disaster.
One man, sitting across from the General, chuckled softly and sipped his coffee, “Terrible idea.”
Kimsey glared at the man, “Was I asking you?”
Truman, the only one standing in the room, looked Kimsey in the eye, “This is Dr. Ronald Quincy, head of research here at NASA. He’s pretty much the smartest man alive, you might want to listen to him.”
“General,” Quincy began, “Taking into account the size, and sheer velocity…you can send every nuke you’ve got at her, and she’ll just smile and keep on coming.”
General Kimsey resumed his glare of the Englishman, “You should know that the President’s scientific advisors approved this plan, with their understanding it would work perfectly.”
“I know the President’s Chief Scientific Advisor, General, we went to MIT together,” said Quincy, sipping his coffee again, “and right now, you don’t want to trust someone with a C- in Astrophysics.” Quincy looked Kimsey right in the eye, “The President’s advisors are wrong. I’m right.”
Dan gripped the back of his high-back chair, “Hitting it from the outside won’t do anything.”
Quincy took his narrow glasses from his face, cleaned them with a small cloth and placed them back on his head. He held out his hand over the table, “Imagine a firecracker, in the palm of your hand. You set it off. What happens? You burn your hand.” Quincy then closed his fist, “Now, close your fist around the same firecracker, and what happens?” He chuckled, “It’d be the last time you do anything with both hands.”
“You’re saying we kill it from the inside?” Kimsey turned to look at Truman, “How?”
“We drill,” said the head of NASA, “We bring in the world’s best deep-core driller.”
“It already happened, dude. Where have you been for the past three hours? And I told you, it wasn’t an attack, it was a meteor shower!”
“Whatever!”
Six men sat in a restaurant in Dallas, around a small rickety table that shook when one of them scooted their chairs around. The waiter brought them another round of drinks, taking away the empty glasses.
“You would think that NASA would be able to send a warning or something, right Sam?”
The one called Sam nodded, “Yea, what do they do in there? Watch birds fly?”
They all laughed. One of the others leaned back in his chair, “Hey if meteors like striking the same place twice, I’m glad Claudia and Michelle are going to Shanghai in three days for their college trip.”
“Hey, that’s sounds neat, Jim!” said Sam, “are they studying there, or is a field trip?”
“Both, they’ve been studying Chinese, and the Chinese club at their College is going there for a month. Lucky them. All the Chinese food they want, and here I am, stuck in the US, where now the sky hates us, along with the rest of the world.”
The man on Jim’s right, Ben, laughed, “Yea, the Chinese place down the street sucks. But the rest of the world doesn’t hate us. Just maybe…hmmm, I’ll say half the world. But we weren’t the only ones hit. Finland, I think also got their share of falling rocks.”
“Hey, I would think that now that we’ve been hit with a disaster, the government would stop spending so much money on others and boost our space program,” said Adam, “if a meteor’s coming, I want to make sure it doesn’t come within a 100,000 mile radius of me.”
“Scott, doesn’t your wife’s friend work for NASA or something?” asked Zack.
“It’s my brother’s wife. She knows this know-it-all, Dr. Ronald Quincy.”
“Ronald Quincy…isn’t he British?”
“Uh huh. He’s the head of research I think. He’s on real good terms with Marcy, invited to all of her Thanksgiving blowouts.”
“’Blowouts’?”
“Oh, right, you haven’t seen Marcy on Thanksgiving. She makes enough food for fifty people, and usually there’s only ten of us!”
Jim, Ben and Sam laughed. The waiter brought the bill, handing it to Ben.
“Speaking of Shanghai, Jim,” said Ben, “it so happens that Danielle is studying in China. She’s majoring in International Business and is learning Chinese. She’s out there studying abroad for the entire year.”
“Wow, I guess China’s the place to be, nowadays. I remember when our kids were playing with each other in the parks and at elementary school field trips and such. Now look at ‘em! They’re just halfway through college and touring the world!”
“Isn’t Katie in college too, Zack?”
“You bet. She’s off in the land of dessert!” He chuckled.
“Huh?”
Zack blinked, “Land of dessert. France. Haven’t you guys ever had a French pastry?”
“Oh, I should have gotten that.”
The waiter came around again, taking the bill. The six men took the receipt and strolled out of the small corner restaurant. A half-battered newspaper was on the ground, the front headlines about the repair teams in Boston, Hartford and New York City. The captioned image showed the topless Empire State Building.
“Can you believe it, though? In just a few short minutes, all this destruction?”
“No, I can’t,” said Jim, shaking his head, “think of those people, starting their day, all cheery and full of spirit, and then learning that your wife or kids won’t ever come home again, or the families expecting you home, and you never see them again. Just horrible.”
“Well, I’m telling you this,” said Sam, “If my kids were wiped out by some crazy rock from the hurdles of space, I’d wage war.”
“Dude, anyone would say that, should it be their family. That’s no excuse to take it out on someone,” said Scott.
“Hey,” Ben glared at Scott, “those people at the Space Center should know when crap like this comes down. It should be their job to warn the public so they can take protective measures! If my kids died from an asteroid, I’d also wage war on NASA.”
“I think that’s a bit extreme…”
“Believe what you want,” snapped Ben. He and Sam stalked off toward their cars.
“They’re all talk,” said Scott, “how can two people try to settle a score on NASA! They’d never get through the security!”
Zack watched Sam and Ben leave, “I’m not sure. Those guys can be pretty determined. And they mean everything they say. I know it sounds silly to hear them say that now. But you remember the last time something happened it was space related?” (1)
“No, what?” asked Adam, “I don’t think I’ve heard this story yet.”
“Well, it was when that small chunk of rock hit the Pacific Ocean while Ben was vacationing in California about fifteen years ago. His mom was killed, and he was all mad at NASA because he felt that they should have seen it coming earlier. Not that they could do anything about that. It was the tidal wave that killed her. She died in the hospital. But he never liked NASA after that. Something like this could shake him up to the point where he does something drastic.”
“He’s still on about that!? That was fifteen years ago!”
“I know,” said Zack, “Ben could be at the point of snapping. I only hope he doesn’t. And Sam's not too far off either...”
Straightening gold colored tie and putting on his black suit jacket, he left his office, a piece of paper clenched in his hand.
Heading into the briefing room, his eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. The blinds covering the window that showed Mission Control below were drawn.
“You in here, Kimsey?”
Truman carefully made his way to the button on the wall that controlled the blinds. Pushing a small silver button, the blinds whooshed open, shedding some light into the room.
“Did you find him?” asked General Kimsey. He was on a comfortable-looking futon on the other side of the room from the briefing table. He appeared to be staring off into space.
“Yea, you can send your team out to get him,” Truman pushed one of the chairs into the table so he wouldn’t trip over it later, “Why are you here in the dark? Trying to scare somebody?”
“I’m just sitting here…thinking. Nothing in particular, just thinking…”
“Uh huh…”
“So…who did you find to save the planet?”
“Every year the same man is recommended for his work. He’s drilled on every terrain this planet can offer him. He’s currently out drilling in the South China Sea.” He gave Kimsey the sheet of paper.
As Kimsey scanned the contents, he pulled out his cell…
When the rising flow was finally under control, Harry leaned his head on the wheel, getting his face even more splattered with oil than before. He turned to AJ, the source of the problem. “Someone could have died here today, do you want that on your conscious?” He turned to a chopper that had just landed. A middle-aged to elderly man in military uniform had come out and was approaching him.
“You’re fired,” said Harry before he went off to greet the newcomer. AJ was at a loss for words. He could only stare at Harry's retreating figure.
“Who’s Harry Stamper?” asked the man. He had to shout over the noise of the chopper.
“I’m Harry Stamper.”
“I am General Montgomery of the Pacific Air Force. I have direct orders from the President of the United States that you come with me on that chopper immediately.” Harry was chuckling and wiping his face clean with a towel as he added, “It is a matter of national security!”
“Did Crazy Willy put you up to this?” he asked.
“I’m afraid I don’t know ‘Crazy Willy’, sir. I’m dead serious about this.”
Harry stopped laughing and looked behind him. His daughter, Grace, was cleaning off AJ’s face.
Harry scowled. It was only that morning that he found Grace sleeping with AJ. He wasn’t pleased with AJ to begin with, but to find him with his daughter, and then to learn they had been together for five months…
“Alright General. I’ll go with you. On one condition…that I take my daughter along.”
Montgomery looked at Harry, then at Grace, then at Harry again. Jerking his head toward the chopper, Harry followed him.
One of the pilots approached Grace, “come with us, ma’am.”
“What did I do?” she asked. Aleady mad at her father for shooting at AJ, then hitting him in the leg with the shotgun, Grace wasn't in the mood to go with her father. AJ tried to follow, but the pilot stopped him.
Harry turned back toward his oil-splattered crew, “Chick! Get him paid and get him out of here!”
I’m aware that a good chunk of this story pretty much follows the movie, but it isn’t all the same. I’d love to hear your comments/complaints/praise/criticism/questions/whatever. If there’s something I can improve upon, by all means, let me know!
I’m trying to work on other fanfics at the moment, so there may not be an update all too quickly. All OC (like the guys in the Dallas restaurant) information can be found on my profile. As I update more of the story and the characters are in play more, the information on my profile will be more up-to-date.
Thanks for reading, and until next time…