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Authors: Wick Welker

BOOK: Medora Wars
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“Where are James and the baby?”

“You shouldn’t think about them anymore, Elise.”

“Did you kill them? Did you kill that child, Malik?”

Malik stood and walked back to the doorway. “We’re going to get you out of those chains and dressed. You have an important task.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“I can’t promise you that you won’t die soon, but it won’t be by our hands. You have been chosen to be our witness. Your eyes will be the record of our last actions and will serve as testimony for the brotherhood of the Sirr.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me where my agent and that baby are.”

“Elise, we will obligate you to do anything that we need, so you should consider it a favor that I tell you that they are still alive.”

“Thank God.”

“Don’t thank him yet. You may be cursing your God by the end of this day.”

 

*****

 

With her hands cuffed behind her back, Elise leaned forward in her seat as the van shot across the tarmac. She looked out and saw clear asphalt across to the airport terminals, without signs of planes being taxied, or luggage trucks scurrying about. The entire airport was largely abandoned, and based on the fact that they were able to get through the opening gate without a problem, made her believe it had entirely become an installation of the Sirr.

As if reading her thoughts, Atash turned to her from the front seat. “Madame Ambassador, it’s quite amazing what resources become available once an entire country becomes abandoned. We’ve been able to set ourselves up here with quite a variety of airplanes, weapons, and even pilots. I have much to show you.” He smiled and turned back to the tarmac ahead.

The van drove down the middle of a runway and took a turn at a nearby hangar, slowed down, and stopped outside a large warehouse. Elise was muscled out of the van by Carter. Malik stepped out from behind her and grabbed onto the chain of her handcuffs. She squinted as she looked over at the building in front; hating the false pleasantries that Atash was giving her.

“Madame Ambassador, this building in front of you houses something very special. Now you already have a very unique perspective on what our virus can do. As Malik has told me, you were witness to the original outbreak in your nation’s capital, and you’ve also seen the devastating and destructive power that the virus has had in Mexico City. There may not be many people who have seen so many outbreaks and have gone on to live another day. It is for this reason that we believe you have been placed in our path, to be the witness of the care, and design that went into the purge. What you’re going to see is only one small step until the brotherhood has completed its work. I do indeed intend for you to see our elegant plan laid out in its entirety.”

“All of you keep talking about the greatness of your God—”

“It’s not exactly this ‘God’ that you believe in,” Atash interrupted. “We only use the word God around you so that you can begin to understand who we are. Our version of God differs vastly from the Judeo-Christian concept of deity.”

“I don’t really give a shit. My point is, you keep talking about greatness of your God and how human beings are just nothing, and our lives our illusions or whatever, but you sure are going to great measure to show off all the genocide you’ve been doing. You claim it’s from God, but there is a part of all of you that is
delighting
in your newfound power.”

“Miss Whitten, let us not make this unpleasant.”

“Oh, of course. I don’t want to ruin the mood.”

“Shall we?” Atash looked at Carter and Malik, who walked ahead of the group with AMR9 rifles drawn. The group walked together toward the side of the warehouse and turned the corner where several helicopters set on the tarmac in front of the building, with dozens of men running back and forth, occupied with different compartments of each helicopter, and running fuel lines and electrical tubing across the asphalt.

“Four Apache attack helicopters and two Chinook cargo choppers, courtesy of the United States,” Atash declared proudly, holding his hand out toward the helicopters. “As you can see, our men are working quickly to get them up in the air soon. We actually don’t have too much more time.” Atash turned and looked at Malik.

“Where did you get those?” Elise asked.

“Ah, you see? I knew you would be curious about our operations. The influence of the brotherhood is quite vast at this point.” He motioned to Carter, who smiled back proudly. “Sometimes we can simply ask for such things and they arrive at our doorstep. Our brother, Carter, who you would see as a military deserter, has been very instrumental to us.”

“I don’t want to see any of this anymore.” Elise looked down at the asphalt.

“You must see all of this—it is the whole reason why you’re still alive. I would be grateful for this opportunity.” Atash grabbed a walkie-talkie from his belt and shouted out some orders to a group of men at one of the Apaches. “All right, my brothers, let us examine our cargo for the last time. Everything must be in perfect order.”

The group from the van broke up as most of them ran out to help with the helicopters, leaving Malik, Atash, Carter, and Elise alone.

Atash turned to Malik. “Malik, please, lead the way.”

He took the group along the side of the warehouse and into an open garage door where more men were working. The warehouse was crammed full of wooden pallets, crates and various machinery parts stacked up along all the walls, all the way to the other end. In the middle of the warehouse were several rows of wooden scaffolds, each holding large domed-shaped structures with a smooth metallic surface.

To Elise, it looked like row after row of phone booth sized rifle bullets, each pointing up at the ceiling.

“Miss Whitten, do you know what these are?”

“You know I don’t,” she said.

“No, no I wouldn’t think that you would, and I really don’t want to bother you with all the technical details, but I’ll just tell you that they’re aquatic bombs designed by one of our fellow sisters of the Sirr. We have sixteen of them here and ready to go for us.”

“They’re also a very special type of… bomb,” Carter said, walking toward one of the large shells, and then running his hand over its smooth surface. “No explosives or hydrogen in these babies.”

“Haven’t you already destroyed enough cities and put the entire world into chaos already? What more can you do that you haven’t already done?” Elise asked.

“No, no there is so much more to do. We’re only at the beginning of this, Elise. As long as the Unites States still has a functioning defense, our work is not finished.”

A petite woman appeared briskly from a row of the bombs with her head down, tapping furiously on a tablet. She looked up and smiled when she saw Atash. “Atash, my dear, it is so good to see you. Everything is going so, so well here. I believe we are truly being watched over,” she spoke in a thick Russian accent.

“Magda!” Atash clapped his hands together and gave her a hug. “That is such good news. Please tell me that we are at adequate pressures.”

“We are right on target in all sixteen compressors. We should get an area of approximately twenty five square kilometers per boo, boo, buoy which vill cover an entire area of our targeted distance of four hundred square kilometers, well vithin what we have predicted.”

“Have you been able to talk with our leader about those numbers? Did he verify that that is the coverage we will need?”

“Oh yes, I just talked vith him on the telephone. It was the first time I had ever heard his voice, a true privilege and honor to speak vith him.” She held a smile until she saw Elise. “Who is dis?”

“Here we have the ambassador of the United States to Mexico, Miss Elise Whitten. She is visiting our premises here and will be a watchful eye on all of our operations.” Magda stared at him for a moment and then went to speak before being interrupted by Atash. “Ha, no need to worry, my dear. Everything is going all according to schedule. Miss Whitten will simply be our witness of everything that we are doing.”

“I see…” Magda said uncomfortably.

“Are we ready to bring out the buoys to the tarmac?”

“Ha, you have no thrill for pageantry do you?” she asked.

“I’m afraid not for the moment. I’d like to get underway as soon as possible.”

“Yes, we shall move them out now.” Magda backed away from the group and shouted commands into a walkie-talkie, after which the floor swarmed with forklifts that lifted up the large cylinders, and moved them outside.

The group followed the train of forklifts as it arranged the bombs several yards apart, where other men then hooked thick, metal wires to their frames. One of the Apaches thumped its blades and lifted up from the tarmac. It floated upward into the air and slowly arched back down toward the tarmac, just over two of the bombs. Several men quickly attached the metal cables on two different bomb frames to the undercarriage of the helicopter and backed away, signaling to the pilot. It lifted upward and stalled momentarily while it adjusted to the weight of the large bombs, and then flew directly upward with its payload swaying in the air. The other helicopters around the tarmac lifted up and flew to their respective bombs laid out beneath them for hook up. One by one as they received their payload, they all flew off in the same direction, over a green hill into the east sky.

The Chinook cargo helicopter flew just over their small group, with four bombs hanging from its fuselage. Atash muttered into his walkie-talkie, and a rope ladder suddenly dropped down in front of them. He put one hand on the ladder, and the other on Carter’s shoulder. “Good luck, my brother. We will see you in a few weeks at our final task.”

“I won’t let you down. The Sirr can count on me.” Carter smiled at him.

“Are you certain that you’ll be able to get into the facility?”

“With the help of the Sirr, I can do anything,” he said.

“Where are we going?” Elise finally decided to ask Atash as he started to climb the ladder.

Atash turned to her and smiled. “Let’s not spoil the surprise.”

 

 

 

Chapter Seventeen: The Gulf of Paria, Venezuela

 

Small waves licked up the sides of dozens of steel hulls. The coastline behind the ships burst open with illuminated palm trees from the midday sun. The black and grey war ships of the Chinese and Venezuelan Navies appeared out of place in front of the long beaches that wrapped along the gulf. If it weren’t for the brewing of a battle, Raff imagined sunbathers lying peacefully on the beaches.

A quiet wind of salty air blew over the ship’s deck giving a welcome relief from the heat to the crew that hurried around their controls, perfecting their measurements, and shouting out commands. Defense Secretary, Jason Raff stood calmly aboard the USS America amphibious assault ship and watched as hundreds of men below the central command tower scurried across the deck. Raff was still angry that he was there. He was angry with the President who had panicked and rushed out two entire naval fleets and demanded that he go along with them to talk to the Chinese.
If they didn’t listen to us a week ago, they’re not going to care what I have to say now
, he thought.

He looked out over the water at the dozens of warships that were scattered around the open bay of a small city in the distance. He tried counting off the different ships that made up two naval fleets but got confused when he saw there were way more destroyers floating out in front of him than he had counted. He did know for a fact that there were two missile guided submarines beneath them but was unsure on the number of other assault ships from the Venezuelan Navy. He was just happy that the admiral was on the destroyer next to his, who knew all the details and would issue all the orders. Looking through binoculars, he saw black ships of the Chinese Navy just off the coast of Guiria, who had continually maintained radio silence.

His radio headset garbled as Admiral Juan Lessing shouted out his name. “Mr. Secretary, we will now begin our advancement toward the Chinese and Venezuelan Navy. They continue to maintain radio silence.”

“Did we get a confirmation about the water mines?” Raff asked.

“Yes, there are dozens confirmed by submarine. As our two fleets begin to converge on the coast, our first action will be disabling the mines before any other assault or aggression. Sir, are we going to attack if they still don’t provoke us?” Lessing asked.

“Absolutely. I have been instructed to regard their blatant naval mobilization and radio silence as an act of aggression against the United States.”

“I understand…”

“We will detonate the mines and give them ample time to respond to our radio requests, that they leave the coastline, and provide us with a timeline of when their entire Chinese Navy will be out of South America.”

“I honestly have no idea what they are thinking—we have them outmatched by at least two to one.”

“It’s just war games. They’re not going to attack us,” Raff said.

“It’s just strange.”

“We’ve got nothing to worry about. Both the President and I felt that the Chinese and Venezuela, and the rest of the world for that matter, need to see that even though everything else is going to shit, we’re not going to put up with military aggression against us.”

“It’s not this navy I’m worried about—it’s what parts of our country we’re leaving open to attack,” Lessing said.

“Both the President and CIA director say there is intel suggesting no imminent attacks inside the country right now. The navy you see right in front of you is the biggest threat to our country,” Raff said.

“All right, Secretary, we don’t need to be getting into this again right before we advance on them. I will proceed as commanded.”

“Thank you, and Godspeed,” Raff said.

Raff watched as Lessing’s destroyer moved up ahead of all the ships. The entire combined fleet clustered together and advanced toward the coast. He watched as dozens of ships moved to form two front flanks, leaving a main battalion of destroyers, cruisers, and frigates in the middle position. Far back behind them laid two aircraft carriers with a defending destroyer each, that burst into life with fighter jets flying off their runways. The air swarmed above them with sweeping jets that climbed up above the clouds and then crisscrossed down in front of their navy, skimming above the ocean only to disappear back up into the clouds to start the formation over again.
The only thing we need are fireworks
, Raff thought.

The Chinese fleet became visible in the distance, and maintained their stationary positions by the coast, as the U.S. fleet soared toward them. Raff flipped a switch on the radio in front of him. “This is Secretary of Defense of the United States of America, Jason Raff. We are regarding your militarization in this region as aggression against the United States. Please respond or we will be forced to intervene.” He flicked the switch back down, paused, and then gave out a sigh. Looking out through the deck he saw that the fleet was slowing down as it approached the Chinese ships.

Through his headset, Raff heard Lessing’s commands that he sent to the entire two fleets at once. “All fleet ships come to a stop at about two and a half knots from the enemy fleet. We will wait on submarine reconnaissance,” Lessing ordered.

As he looked out, Raff felt like he was standing at the back row of an amphitheater with dozens of warships extending up the side of the water in a semi-circular pattern. The entire fleet slowed in almost perfect unison, their tails of white water diminishing as they came to a stop. Raff left the radio open, hoping and waiting that the Chinese or Venezuelans would respond.
They think they’re already past the point of no return
, he thought.
They’re here for a fight, but why here? Why would they lure us all the way down to Venezuela?

The waters settled, and the ocean became quiet with the ships resting in silence. Raff found himself suddenly wanting a first shot from the Chinese.
Just a single bullet from a single barrel to finally decide that we will have a war today
, he thought.

Suddenly, large fountains of water erupted in the ocean ahead of them. One after another, geysers shot up into the air, leaving behind foamy water with a surge of waves. “Our subs have found the mines and are now detonating them, all positions remain quiet,” Lessing said. The fountains kept erupting one after another across the front of the fleet, exposing the placement of each mine that the Chinese had laid down.

After the last blast, the waters finally calmed, leaving the navies looking back at each other, waiting. Raff flipped the radio switch. “Attention Chinese Navy, this is your final warning. We will be advancing onto your location and open fire if you do not leave these waters immediately. We will give you five minutes to respond.” Raff heard Rambert’s own desperate words coming out of his mouth.

The ocean was calm, and all ships remained motionless, waiting. Amongst the dozens of men in the control tower, the only sound was that of the low static hum from the radio. All men and women had their eyes looking beyond the windows to the black ships of their new enemy. The five minutes passed in an instant, and Admiral Lessing came onto the radio. “All ships advance onto enemy position, and do not open fire until I give the command, or until the enemy fires first. I repeat, do not fire until my command, or if the Chinese or Venezuelans fire on us first.”

The fleet moved forward, with the side flanks crossing over the mine barrier. Raff’s ship maintained its position at the back of the semicircular formation and started to move as the crew worked their controls. Advancing forward, the side flanks reached the Chinese ships first, with their cannons primed and ready to strike at the first shot. Raff gripped the edge of a control tower with one hand and held binoculars to his eyes with the other. He could now see the Chinese naval men aboard their own ships, all standing completely motionless. He turned to another of their ships and saw the same thing: all men on all ships were in a complete standstill.

“Admiral,” Raff spoke over the radio, “why aren’t they doing anything? They’re all just standing around watching us.”

“I don’t know,” Lessing said with uncertainty. “But we’re advancing forward until they get the hell out of here.”

The U.S. fleet was now almost entirely intermingled with the Chinese ships. Raff dropped the binoculars and looked out of the side windows of the deck and saw a large Chinese destroyer at their side, its sides completely lined with Chinese soldiers holding rifles arms pointed toward the sky. They stood completely motionless, without expression. “What in the hell is going on?” Raff shouted out to anyone of the crew that was listening. “What are they doing?”

“All right, all ships to stop in current formation,” Lessing said over the radio. “Assume bravo formation with destroyers at the back line. Wait on my command.” The fleet came to a stop with a wall of U.S. ships lined up at the back of the assault, with other assault ships now spreading in between the Chinese ships.

Looking through his binoculars, Raff saw the Chinese ships laid out in front of them, with the Venezuelan ships and coastal city just beyond. His mind was caught up in a frenzy of scenarios and hypotheticals, trying to understand and guess what the Chinese were trying to do. Every ship was quiet with the monotonous stares of the naval soldiers looking out at them.
Yet they aren’t really looking at us
, he thought.
They’re looking beyond us. What are they waiting for? They’re not waiting for us—they’re waiting for something else… Something planned, someone else, a trap, another navy, suicide bombers, what? What the hell are they doing?

In his clutter of thoughts, and through the silence of the battleships, he heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter thumping in the distance. As the sound grew slightly louder, he heard another set of helicopter blades coming in, followed by another. He heard Lessing on the radio, “Mr. Secretary, are you aware of any choppers that have been designated to join us?”

“What? No, you mean you don’t know who those helicopters are?”

“They’re U.S. Apaches and a cargo chopper, but they’re the first I’m hearing about this.”

“What do we do about it?”

“Hang on, I’ve got a guy on the phone to Eau Claire figuring it out. I’m sure it’s just some last minute backups that the President decided to send.”

“Admiral, what the hell? How do we not know about this?”

“Mr. Secretary, I could ask you the same thing. Just stand by,” Lessing replied.

Raff exhaled with annoyance into the headset and looked around at the ship’s crew, who mirrored his confused expression. “Let’s just see what the fuck is going on out there.” Raff ripped off his headset and burst out of the ship’s central command center, onto the outside deck, where dozens of sailors were poised under large turrets and missile batteries. Looking up, the sun glared down on him, but he could see several of the helicopters coming from the opposite direction from the Chinese ships. As they came closer he made out three, then four, Apache helicopters, with two larger choppers coming from behind them. They were flying at the fleet.

At the bow of his own ship, he saw an aircraft carrier a few hundred feet away. “Is there any room for those choppers to land out there?” he said to no one, blocking the sun out of his eyes. The helicopters made it to just over the aircraft carrier but flew right over it. It was then that Raff noticed each helicopter was towing several large objects beneath them. Grabbing a radio from his belt, he shouted into it, “Admiral, what kind of helicopters did you say they were?”

His radio chirped, and Lessing yelled out, “It’s four Apaches and two Chinook cargo choppers. I’ve no idea where they’re coming from.”

“Son of a bitch, those are the exact number and type of choppers that just went missing from El Paso. You need to shoot them down right this minute!” he yelled, alerting all the sailors around him who scrambled at the turrets.

“Are you certain?” Lessing asked.

“Can’t you see that they’re dragging something beneath them? We have no idea who is flying those things. Shoot them down right now!”

“I already gave out the order,” Lessing said.

The helicopters stayed flying in a tight formation and approached the space above Raff’s ship. Closer now, he saw large, bullet-shaped vessels hanging from the helicopters. “Get those turrets up and shoot those fucking choppers down right now!” he yelled out at the sailors, who began turning the large barreled turrets back toward the direction of the helicopters.

A missile from another ship shot out into the air and struck one of the Apaches above Raff’s ship. It exploded into a fireball. The wreckage fell forward and landed on the back end of the ship’s deck, toppled over several men, and then ripped over the side rail, falling down to the water below.

An Apache from behind immediately slowed, and then dropped to just a few dozen feet from above the water. The helicopter dropped its two metallic cylinders to the water below. A second missile shot from Raff’s ship and ripped through this second Apache as it attempted to fly away, making it plummet to the ocean.

The two larger cargo helicopters, carrying four of what Raff could only assume were bombs, split from the cluster of helicopters, and flew directly over two different destroyer ships. They accelerated toward the water divide between the U.S. and Chinese ships. As several missiles shot out behind them, they began dropping their bombs one at a time as they flew amongst the ships, distributing the bombs evenly down into the water. As the bombs plunged into the waters below, they sunk down deep, and then shot back up from their buoyancy.

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