Invasion USA 3 - The Battle for Survival (52 page)

“Yes,” replied Manuel “just one, and when you have it visual Alberto, we will fire a couple from here.” Manuel could now hear jet engines approaching and a sudden scream as the pilots must have seen a missile launch on their radars.

“I can see one turning!” shouted a soldier further down the convoy.

“Aim and fire,” ordered Manuel.

“I can see one as well,” shouted another over the radio.

“Aim and fire,” added Manuel calmly.

Suddenly the second jet was seen low and on the western horizon trying to attack from the opposite direction where the spotter plane was a fireball on the ground.

“Enemy aircraft on the western horizon!” shouted Manuel into his radio. “All other launchers fire when you see it.” Immediately two missiles went up from different areas and again the jet could be seen suddenly aiming vertically and heading up, its afterburner shock of noise hitting the men a few seconds later.

“We got the first one!” shouted Alberto into his radio. “I saw an explosion very high above us and it must be the enemy aircraft.”

“I want proof before you leave the area,” ordered Manuel. Pedro get you men heading north again, I’ll look out for the other pilot. Go slowly and carefully and we will catch up to you once Alberto joins us.”

For two more weeks, the cartel played cat and mouse with the ever retreating Mexican army. Twice they saw spotter planes and twice they blew them out of the sky. It was slow going as they by-passed Mexico City and headed north. They fought through Querétaro and San Luis Potosi before reaching Zacatecas.

Here, they were met by friends. The Sanchez Cartel, with 5,000 men, was waiting for them. They were old friends and the new members suggested that they head for Saltillo where another Sanchez Cartel family of 2,000 was waiting, and then Monterrey where the largest cartel, the Cortez Cartel with a force of over 12,000, was waiting.

With such numbers and the Mexican army still retreating up the old road, a surprise directional change would buy them peace for a few days. Manuel and his army arrived in Monterrey on May 2nd. They were a month late and it was getting hot.

Mo Wang’s New Baby

Preston was excited. He loved flying and, apart from Martie and the farm, flying and electronics were all he was really interested in, at least until this year. Now there were the kids—Little Beth and Clint, dogs—Oliver and Puppy, and even the introverted cat Smokey, who made appearances once a day, usually at dinner. There were constantly people at the farm and on the airfield, and he had very little down time. Now he was to learn to fly a Gunship, the aircraft he most respected.

The day after the opening of the Officers Mess and the departure of many of the people back to their tasks of saving the country, the United States Air Force got down to doing what it does best: teaching people to fly.

The day was April 3rd at 06:30 hours when a C-130 full of technicians, aircraft mechanics, and the commander of Seymour Johnson squawked over the radios wanting landing confirmation for the new runway.

The farm, still having a sort of civilian vacation-type mentality, was all still asleep. Even the First Family, staying on for a week, was not out of bed yet. Luckily for Preston, the Air Force personnel were up and had a radio in the guardroom, one of the new hangars. The man on duty gave all the relevant information and told the C-130 to come in quietly, the air field was still asleep. He heard laughter from Colonel Mondale over the radio and carefully explained to his base commander that the President and Chief of Staff were still on the field and presumably still asleep.

Acknowledgements were returned by the incoming flight and it came in on a whisper, its engines as silent as possible.

Oliver and Puppy were checking out the airfield perimeter and two men were walking the southern perimeter as the 130 flew low overhead to land. The colonel flying the aircraft thought he saw the President of the United States and a person who looked much like his Chief of Staff looking directly up at him as they came in a hundred feet over the south property fence.

“Good morning, Colonel Mondale,” General Patterson said, walking up to the colonel outside the new, large hangar several minutes later. “I believe you have already met the President?”

“Yes, sir. Good morning, Mr. President,” the colonel replied saluting. “I was hoping to get Preston and Martie out of bed earlier than usual, but was warned about you gentlemen still being on the premises. I had been thinking of buzzing the farmhouse to get my new recruits out and onto the parade square,” he added smiling at the men in front of him.

“Now, now colonel, you know it’s against Air Force Flight Regulations to buzz the tower…but, I suppose a farmhouse isn’t in the actual regulations so I’ll let your remark slide this time,” returned the general with a smirk on his face. “I do think this civilian establishment should get closer to military time and efficiency, so get the men to raise the dead and let’s get our flying lessons started. Colonel, you need to add two new recruits to your roster, Detective Will Smart from Lancaster, California, who is flying into this field a little later on the redeye from Edwards, and the President, who would like to get started with his first hour. I would recommend bringing in two more Cessna 150s or 172s from our civilian lineup for our new recruits to begin on. I believe Preston commandeered two small Cessna aircraft from RDU in January and they are either with you or at Pope Field.”

“They are at Pope, sir, and I’ll get them in here within the hour with the other 172 I’m having flown in,” the colonel replied, pretty startled about his new recruit.

Preston’s suggestion of a church on the field had met with a positive response from Colonel Mondale at the Andrews meeting two days earlier. Seymour Johnson just happened to have a mobile church building designed to be erected on a frontline base and Joe, who had arrived, suggested that the Air Force bring it in and he and his sons could add a few more permanent touches here and there.

Joe also reminded General Patterson at the meeting the day before, that he and David had already put their names forward for flying lessons, and his sons could take over the modifications of the church once it arrived. General Patterson hadn’t forgotten and told Joe, and David, who already had hundreds of flying hours in an Israeli flight logbook, that their names were already logged.

By ten that morning the field was getting busy. Will Smart arrived on the second C-130 from Edwards. Maggie and the children were happy to see that Will seemed to step off the rear of the aircraft without the psychological problems he had faced a couple of months earlier. A third and fourth C-130 came in as the trainee pilots were congregating on the apron in front of Preston’s old hangar; there was much chatting and laughter about who was learning to fly which aircraft.

Jennifer arrived in another Super Tweet, from a base in Kansas, flying in from the south. She had left for Edwards the previous evening with a 130 and returned with the second two-seat Tweet for the girls’ flight training at Preston’s farm.

The California C-130 was flying back to Onizuka Air Force Station in Sunnyvale, close to Silicon Valley, with Lee’s wife and daughter and Buck.

Mo Wang, Beatrice, Marie and the girls had been invited to visit the Roebels wine Farm in Napa for the next week or two—Marie and Beatrice decided it would be much more fun to drink good Napa wine than watch aircraft landing and taking off all day—and accepted the offer to fly out on the 130; Michael would pick them up after he dropped Lee off at Onizuka.

Michael Roebels and Lee Wang had taken off in the Beechcraft at 07:00 hours, several minutes after the first 10 flights arrived. The Beechcraft, needing more time to fly to the West Coast, would stop twice to refuel, and would be six or more hours behind the C-130 into Onizuka.

By eleven the airfield’s control tower was hard at work directing landings and takeoffs on the new runway. The Cessna-beginners were in flight school in one of the hangars for the first day; the four new jet girls were on their first phase of training and, since all could fly, they would be doing nothing more than landings and takeoffs in the two two-seat jets with Sally, and Jennifer who had trained on Tweets in 2010 but had preferred to continue flying the C-130s.

In between the Tweets were two AC-130 Gunships doing the same thing, landings and takeoffs, with Carlos and Preston sweating to learn to fly such large and powerful aircraft.

The old runway wouldn’t have been long enough for training and Preston not only enjoyed the extra footage, but needed every inch of it to get his massive beast on and off without stopping.

By twelve, more aircraft were arriving and slowing the pattern; two more C-130s from Pope Seymour Johnson brought in the mobile church building panels and two more HC-130 Tankers were full of soon-to-be-needed aviation fuels.

For the next two weeks the airfield worked hard; the days slowly grew warmer as the pilots learned to fly their aircraft.

The President had to return to Washington for a day and when he left in a C-130 bound for Andrews, he had already accrued 50 hours of training and three solo flights around the airfield. Joe and David also had 50 hours of training and, Will Smart, although a little behind was now enjoying the experience fully, and was hankering for more hours.

The girls had been worked hard by Sally and Jennifer. They had 60 hours each and were nearly ready to go solo. For the next two days they would learn the differences between two-seat flying with a trainer and one-seat solo-flying in their own aircraft.

Preston and Carlos had thirty hours each. They had completed more ground school and math workshops than the others and needed to learn more about operating the Gunship instead of just learning to fly it.

Little Beth and Clint had gone on most of the 130 training flights, exchanging their choice of pilot from Preston to Carlos and back as they saw fit. They would be competent pilots themselves before long as they both sat in the rear of the cockpits and listened to every word of the training.

Clint actually was allowed to fly one of the large beasts once sitting in the copilot seat, and he happily stated that he was ready for the next flight school. His slowly-mending legs managed to control the pedals of the large aircraft.

On the morning of April 19th, the sixteenth day, the trainees were told it was solo day and heaven help the airfield. Preston and Carlos wouldn’t need to go solo as there would always be a second pilot aboard and, as new copilots, they would fly hundreds of hours and gain experience from the right-hand seats.

But for the others, including the President, who had returned in time for his first real solo flight, it was time for their first long distance solo flight. A fourth Cessna was flown in so that the four trainees could all fly together.

“Long distance” was a bit of an exaggeration for this flight as the Cessna pilots would take off one after the other and, with Preston and Carlos’ Gunships being “bodyguards” for the President, they would all fly into Seymour Johnson, then fly over to Pope Field at Fort Bragg, and for their third leg they would return to the airfield. In total, it was a flight of no more than 150 miles, but far enough to be classed as a long distance flight. It went off without mishap.

The Super Tweets had a little more work to do. In the morning, they practiced formation flying and in the afternoon headed out to Andrews and back again without mishap. By dusk, flight-suited, happy, smiling and drinking pilots could be found celebrating in the bar of the new Officers Mess.

Maggie and Will Smart were the happiest of all. They had both done well and they felt tremendously proud of each other. Martie was smiling ear to ear. She had really enjoyed the first phase and was now a jet-girl. For Barbara it was exciting but she had been a jet-girl for several years, flying Citation jets for a living.

Preston and Carlos enjoyed the new aircraft, but their own P-51s were as exciting to fly and Preston still loved flying his P-38 Lightning far more than a Gunship. He hadn’t felt the power and force of the Gunship’s weapons yet.

Buck, Marie, Beatrice and the teenagers returned from Napa happy, content, and suntanned, while Lee and Mo Wang stayed on with Michael Roebels going over blue prints of electrical vehicle computers.

Many hybrid-electric vehicles had been found abandoned in perfect condition on the highways of California. Buck explained to the tired audience that several of the parts from the first captured load were being developed into one complete electric car by Michael, Lee and Mo, and the engineers thought that they could have it, and several others, working within a month. Everything worked perfectly in the vehicle except for the computerized brain, but they were getting good responses from the drive-train areas of the vehicle by adding new parts meant for another type of engine-management system, namely a harbor crane!

Buck told Preston, Martie and Carlos that Michael Roebels and his ever-growing team of engineers had just moved its entire operation to a building called “The Blue Cube,” a massive, ex-Lockheed Aircraft Corporation building on the recently retired Onizuka Air Force Base. They were working around the clock, and Mo Wang had added his engineering knowledge about hundreds of exact parts currently stored in Harbin, which could be exchanged into these vehicles.

“This building is massive,” described Buck, a fresh beer in his hand. “It is a large, pale blue, windowless building several stories tall. It has the largest array I’ve ever seen of currently useless parabolic dish antennas used for communication with orbital tracking. Carlos, he wants you to set up a satellite communications headquarters there as soon as you get back from China and get these communication antennas running again. He believes he can do some interesting things, setting up new upgrades for our future electric-only vehicles out there once they’ve been ‘doctored’. The work space inside the building is perfect for what Michael is doing; it used to control the military satellites when Onizuka was operated by the 21st Space Operations Squadron.”