Hλlf Life Fλnfiction - The Seven Hour Wλr (unfinished)

Rapture - Chapter Two

London, England - 2 hours after the Franciscan Incident:
07:54:06 AM...

"We need to get Prime Minister Blair to Edinburgh, we have a helicopter on it's way now; so far these portals have been appearing worldwide, little is known about them..." Secretary Anne Swan passed the papers onto Mr West; he led Britain's research team, formed within an hour of the first portal's "landing". 
"Ms. Swan, what are the casualties?" He plucked the file from her sweating hands and read it carefully, paying close attention to the few grainy camera pictures taken of the skyline.

"Sorry, there was no time for refinement; and these cameras have certain EMP protection protocols, unlike many of the electronic and government cameras issued around the Greater San Francisco area..." West interrupted her...
"Ms. Swan casualties, now!"
"Casualties are unknown, they've expected around 2-3 thousand; reports are hazy at the moment..."
"Other cities with the same... portals?"
"In the United States over twenty cities have confirmed portals, that number is rising..."
"Ms. Swan are any other countries affected?" Ms. Swan muddled around, trying to find references to answers she had only just learnt...
"Ms. Swan are any other..." Ms. Swan found her papers and interrupted West...
"...Mexico, Panama, Brazil, Canada..." West rose his hand, beckoning for her silence.
"We need to get to Number 10 within the next hour..."

The car sped through the early morning London streets; already BBC crews had arrived and set up their equipment, the guard's stood expressionless; not letting a single soul through. Their black Royce came to a stop; Mr West pushing open his door and running quickly up the white stone steps with Ms. Swan behind him, crews ambled quickly around the car; hoping to find any news on the crisis at hand. The door's parted, masses of British personnel rushed around the room holding everything from coffee's to fax printed drafts; televisions in the corner displayed reports from American militant bases, one helicopter buzzed over New York's skyline awaiting a portal...

"Just came in..." A colleague handed Mr. West a fax from Houston. It read; Large flashes of white light appearing over American Cities in the Central Column, fears Houston is next, warn others, warn others. The rest was code and military identification numbers...
"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" The colleague shrugged and moved back to his Microsoft Desktop.
"West we have a SAT feed..." Amanda Winchel quickly pushed papers off her desk, hooking up another television before connecting a red wire between both; the monitor buzzing to life as it showed a video feed from the lower orbit, a large but faint blue line slowly spread across continental America; flashes of light sprung from where each major city was located.
"This is impossible! These portals are appearing over cities, actual cities!"
"Where did this originate from?"
"How long have we got?" Random people began to scream, in fear many panicked.

"Quiet! First of all the blue wall won't be over New York for another two minutes, if we watch the broadcast now; we will be able to see the effects of this... storm." Mr. West had made his point and now they had changed back to ABC America's live feed, a blue hue could be seen on New York's horizon.
"There it is!" They all stood watching as the anchor's spoke of what they thought would occur, and how people in the borough should better prepare themselves.
"They have no..." Mr. West spoke interrupting the young intern.
"Just watch!"

The blue wall now filled half the sky, people began to run as the helicopter continued to film; as soon as it passed over the city, shaking the ground as it did, a large bright flash filled the sky causing the camera to lose it's connection. The room fell dead silent...
"Switch to CNN..."
The channel was changed and still showed nothing...
"SBS..."
Nothing still...
"CBS..."
Again the channel showed nothing but white noise.
"Fuck!" West pushed papers off a nearby table, his glasses fogging up and he took them off.
"Amanda... how long've we got?" She gulped, as the clock continued to tick.
"Sir maybe it's..."
"How long... have we fucking got!" A few women whimpered as the room began to fill with tension, Amanda starting to tear up.
"Sir we have... we've got eight minutes left..." Automatically people began to panic, their voices rising as Mr. West maintained the volume of fear...