The Battle for Houston...The Aftermath (43 page)

“The navy is going to deploy the first sixty-two men of Seal Team Six onto the beach east of Mortensens Lagoon the first night and the rest of them the next night, weather permitting. Seal Team Five and Seal Team Four will parachute in with the Marines. That will give us nearly 100 men ready for anything and Seal Team Six will have two nights to check out the area and see if they can get into the hangars to find out if they have these missiles. Two miles south of the main runway is an old World War II runway.” Admiral Rogers pointed to a vague outline of a dirt runway. “I was part of a team flown in on the darn thing thirty years ago to check the area out as a possible naval facility. I also remember reconnaissance photos of the old airport taken a decade or so back and noticed the semi-ruined buildings; they were occupied buildings on my last visit. Whatever remains is enough to hide 100 Seals from any detection equipment that may be installed at the modern airport to the north. I’m sure they will have patrols around the area 24/7; our idea is to dress in whatever they are wearing and get men inside their camp. Only if and when we get confirmation that they have nuclear capabilities, can we go forward.”

“Thank you Admiral. With Seal Team Six on the ground, the rest of us can go home,” quipped General Patterson, returning to the front of the room. For the first time in that meeting there were several smiles. “Once we know that they have nuclear capabilities and it has been dealt with by the Seals, the Marines and the air force will go in. We know that their missiles, if they have them, won’t be as accurate without the old GPS system and, I believe the enemy doesn’t even know that they don’t have GPS guidance anymore. Unfortunately, with or without GPS, those missiles can still fly; where they fly, nobody knows and they may have been fitted with other manually-guided directional backup systems just in case. We cannot allow these missiles to go hot. I will have Z-10 helicopters with air-to-air missiles ready to shoot them down if they ever poke their noses above ground, or wherever they are. Once we are at this stage, we can flatten these guys once and for all. There are reports of up to 5,000 Chinese soldiers being housed in the area. Also, we know of a possible 250 U.S. civilian prisoners from the Bethel, Alaska area and approximately 300 right wing mercenaries from northern Idaho and Montana—the same guys who hit Medford, Oregon. I believe the last 400 to 500 civilians are not in Cold Bay, but in the States and visiting farmers. Within 72 hours every area on the mainland in which these anarchists could be operating will be teaming with U.S. troops and they will be found and taken out. Today alone three farmers and their entire families were murdered and their farm houses were burned; one in Washington State, one in southern Idaho and the third in central Colorado.

“I was informed that these farmers refused to sign paperwork put in front of them. We already know how and where these guys are operating; so far about 100 farms have been forced to sign these documents and we have a couple of Z-10 helicopters moving into these areas ready to blow these squads away. Latest reports are that these mercenaries are operating in truckloads of four, much like the Chinese hit squads seven months ago, and for all we know there could even be more Chinese hit squads helping them as well. It seems that Westbrook and Bowers had their men trained by the Chinese soldiers to act the same way as the first Chinese squads.

“So, it looks like these CEOs, Westbrook, Bowers and the other two are already responsible for dozens of deaths, including our pilot friends, and good U.S. farmers. I promise that while I breathe air, I’m going to get these guys. I’m going to follow Admiral Rogers’ plan. He is in command of Phase One of this mission and once the information is gathered, Phase Two will be the destruction of this base by the air force and Marines. Questions?”

“Why don’t we just nuke the area and be done with it?” asked an airman.

“Nothing I would like to do more, but we are west of the Continental United States, which I believe Westbrook and Bowers also know, due to the positioning of their base. That means radiation fallout will hit the jet stream and head over Alaska, areas of Canada and parts of the U.S. Also, we need to see who and what these guys are. Like a tumor, we need to isolate and exterminate the whole problem. This could just be a splinter group of another, even larger group. Last, these guys must have been working with Zedong Electronics before the end of last year, and if we can capture one or two alive, American or Chinese, we could extract vital information to find out if there are others out there. I want this to be the last attack on our country, so that we can rebuild in peace and not always have to watch our backs for bad guys for the rest of our lives.”

“Was the attack on our country from South America also Zedong Electronics related?” asked Captain Kohout, one of
Easy Girl’s
regular pilots.

“No, we did our homework, covered every possibility, and know from our allies in Colombia that there was no connection at all, or they wouldn’t have killed the 10,000 Chinese troops along the Panama Canal. Those Cartels, realized that money, their lifeline, was going to dry up; if there was no more money to be made in the drug business, then land, was the most valuable commodity. That is why I am opposed to immediately reinstituting a monetary system in our country. Yes, the ex-rich will bitch, and I’m sure the wannabe-rich and even the poor will bitch, but I believe it will suppress human greed, at least for a while; once we are a strong nation again, then maybe cash will be allowed to return, and be king.”

With the meeting over, Preston and Martie headed off to their allotted room behind the Officer’s Mess. Both were solemn contemplating the murder of Buck and Barbara. So were Carlos and Sally, until General Patterson came to find them and invite them for a drink in the bar.

“One thing I always enjoyed as a kid was reading flying stories from World War II,” he started, as they headed in a group for the bar. “The downing of pilots became such a regular occurrence that they used to have a kitty, or pre-paid tab, at the bar and every day all the pilots put in small change or any money they had to spare into the kitty. When it was confirmed that one of their own went down, they took money out of the kitty and purchased a round of drinks in memory of the downed friend. I think we should do the same. There’s no flying tomorrow and we might as well toast our flying friends the old fashioned way.”

They did. Tired and after long hours of flying, the drinks were welcomed. The bar was made open with free drinks for all pilots and crew, and after several rounds, and an old upright piano being banged hard in the corner every now and again, names of recently downed pilots and friends were shouted out with the raising of dozens of glasses at the mention of each name.

Many names, over three dozen, were called out by different people. There had been a lot of downed pilots in the last several months.

Even General Patterson stayed and raised a glass, drink for drink with the rest, as many remembered good friends who no longer flew with them.

* * *

It was a different picture aboard the two Tang Class submarines slowly heading closer towards land, a couple of miles south of Cold Bay, two and a half days later.

Lieutenant Meyers and his thirty men had been first out of Elmendorf departing with full equipment in three large navy Seahawk helicopters; the U.S. Navy helicopters had hitched a ride north from San Diego on the helipads of the three Colombian frigates.

They were already fitted with external fuel tanks, added before they left San Diego to aid in the transfer of food and supplies to the Alaskan outlying areas. The extra fuel increased their range to 700 miles. Even with the added fuel weight, they could have ten men crammed into them with gear.

After two hours flying they caught up with the fleet; the helicopters transferred the men and headed back for the next two platoons of Seal Team Six before the ships got out of their range of Elmendorf, in twelve hours’ time.

To the Seals, the submarines were a home away from home. They had spent time aboard larger, more modern craft for training and extraction, but these Tang class were much older and smaller, and one could feel the coldness of the water outside invading the entire, more tightly packed craft.

Flights with men and parachutes were arriving into Elmendorf from Quantico, Pendleton and Camp Lejeune in 747s, while C-130s were transferring supplies onto the shorter runway at Dillingham Airport 600 miles to the west, where General Patterson was setting up his forward headquarters. Dillingham was the closest he could get to Cold Bay; from the small outpost it was a shorter 300-mile flight.

The 2,000-odd townsfolk of Dillingham hadn’t seen so much action for decades.

At full speed and meeting up with the supply ship, sailing due north to connect up with them, the submarines were refueled on the surface. They took on more than enough diesel fuel to get to their destination and dived to continue the journey.

Forty-eight hours later, it was time for the Seals to use their underwater equipment recently lined aboard the submarines from the frigates. The three helicopters had relocated to Dillingham a day earlier to be able to supply equipment aboard the frigates.

Up to this time, the frigates had stayed 120 miles out to sea, so that the enemy radar wouldn’t notice the low flying helicopters.

One of the frigates headed closer to shore, keeping a large island land mass between her and the Cold Bay airport. South of the island, the equipment was passed by rope and then lines to the submarines, thirty miles from the landing beach, and then underwater, the submarines aimed to get to within 300 yards of the beach at a 30-foot depth to allow the men to surface.

Charlie Meyers and Joe Paul would lead the first two groups of six men in their respective submarines to be “blown” to the surface. It was a simple affair. Each man had the use of a single scuba tank firmly attached to the wall of the escape chamber. The chamber was dimly lit and they sat around the chamber wearing rubber dry suits over their uniforms to keep out the cold water. Only their heads were outside the suits and the top of the suits tight around their necks. Each man placed a waterproof pack of equipment in his lap: weapons, ammo, food and, blankets for warmth. One held a radio.

The chamber door was closed and sea water pumped in. Each man breathed from his inverted scuba tank until their leader unscrewed the large, watertight, six-inch-thick steel hatch to the outside. Once the pressure had equalized, he pushed hard to open the hatch. Then, one by one, the men grabbed a piece of thick cloth tied to four different places on his pack and from his mouthpiece filled the cavity underneath the cloth with air, let the pack float out of the chamber and he, taking a last gulp of air, followed it upwards, breathing out all the way to the dark surface 30 feet above.

Within 40 seconds the soldier and the pack reached the surface three hundred yards offshore. The second to last man took the last man’s pack, which left Charlie Meyers to take his last breath, leave the chamber and close it from the outside, screwing down the hatch so that the water could be pumped out for the next six guys. He took a small float with him as he left. This was to help anybody struggling on the surface.

The water was icy cold around their heads as each man kicked and reached the surface; underwater goggles kept their eyes dry, snorkels helped them breathe, and flippers propelled them, as they waited for the entire team to surface, each man holding the inflated cloth with the heavy backpack next to him.

“Count off men,” ordered Charlie, and he heard five men respond. The water was still cold on the surface as they silently moved towards the black-lined beach.

The next load of six men would do exactly the same. They were lucky that the night was dark with little wind and the sea relatively calm. Three hours later sixty-three Seals and one air force pilot were accounted for on dry land, the last of them still climbing out of their dry suits.

The next night, when it was time for the next team, six men would swim bags of the suits back on a small black float and, with rope, the next team would pull them down back into the submarine to hide the evidence. The last suits would be swum back by a couple of sailors in suits, pulled into the submerged craft, and all evidence of any men swimming ashore would disappear.

“OK, guys,” said Charlie quietly, as several of the men gathered around while the others were already on watch. The last men undid their packs and wrapped themselves in blankets to warm up after the swim in frigid water. “I will go forward to scout the area. You two guys get the couple of Chinese uniforms out and try to keep them from looking a mess. Those silly red uniforms are about ten sizes too small for me. Major Wong, did your quick scuba course help you? Sorry you couldn’t practice in real water inside the submarine, but you seem to have survived.”

“As I told you guys, we did a little downed aircraft evacuation in the air force and yes, Lieutenant Meyers, I am here and I‘m alive! Were you guys taking bets on whether an air force pilot could handle it?” asked a smiling, but shivering Major Wong.

“Might have, Major,” smiled Charlie back at him. He had seen this small guy fly several different aircraft already and had a lot of respect for the air force major. “Major Wong and Sergeant Rodriquez, I think you guys are the only ones small enough to fit into those clown uniforms. Get them on and we’ll go with one more man watching our backs. Sergeant Mendez, you come with me as back up and stay a hundred feet behind me. Grab your two silencers. I want the silencer on your Glocks and your sniper rifles in case we are expected. The boss said that it is three miles to the runway, so we will check that out first; I‘ll radio back to the rest of you. Joe, take command of our rear guard and get everything moved to whatever is good cover at the old airfield once we give the OK. My team will go on and scout the perimeter of the larger runway and we will be back at the first runway by dawn.”

With orders given and clothing arranged, the four men set off in the northerly direction towards the airfield. The wind was from the north would help cancel out any noises made by them if someone was listening.