by TW Powell
“Doesn’t much matter if they aren’t very stealthy, those old Falcons and Eagles can rip us a new asshole.” Delvin had never imagined just how much airpower was based at Nellis.
“There’s more. Look at the three B-1s on the northeast end of the tarmac.”
John continued with the bad news, “Those ‘Bones’ are supersonic and have a ceiling of 60,000 feet and can carry 75.000 pounds of ordinance. That’s two semi-truck loads of bombs and/or missiles. Just one of those bombers could plaster every canyon around Kingston.”
Porter went even further, “Suppose we occupy Mountain Pass. The Collective could obliterate the entire Mountain Pass operation with just one sortie of just one those bombers.”
“Now look-a-here sitting on this vee shaped apron. It’s our old friend, Mr. Warthog, and he has two buddies.” John Nicolescu feared those three Hogs just as much as Tom Jackson feared them.
“John, what’s those rotary winged aircraft up on the north end of the field by the aviation fuel storage tanks? Don’t tell me they’ve got a dozen Apaches.”
“No, Captain Smith, that’s some good news. Those choppers look to be Blackhawks. They’re fast multi-purpose helos with good range, Air Cavalry rides.”
Porter jumped in, “Air Cavalry, that piques my interest.”
Delvin was curious, “What are you thinking Porter?”
John quickly rewound Puma 1’s video to the Indian Springs’ footage, “We didn’t highlight this earlier, but there appears to be a Huey Cobra sitting in one those hardened revetments at Creech. All we need is one bad assed helo driver and that Cobra could lead our Air Cav.”
Delvin and Thomas turned toward one another and smiled.
“Captain Smith, I know what you’re thinking…”
“We’re only dreaming, Tom. She’s two thousand miles away.
Questions
The two mile walk from the abandoned golf course back to Prim under a 115F desert sun was grueling. At least James was dressed for the occasion and had plenty of water.
His quarters at the Primm resort were located on the ground floor and, while not exactly plush, were quite comfortable. Immediately after walking in the door, James took a nice hot shower, set the air conditioner up on high cool, then plopped into bed. Then he relaxed and gathered his thoughts.
“OK, Member Smith was reconnoitering Mountain Pass. Why?
“Was he gathering information for Member California Coordinator? Perhaps.
“Why would Member California Coordinator be interested in Indian Springs and Nellis? She shouldn’t be.
“Captain Delvin Smith is a part of a military organization as are his two comrades.
“Perhaps Mr. Smith is playing a very dangerous game. Perhaps he is Resistance. Perhaps…
“Hold it! Member Smith became Hero Smith after the incident at Round Mountain back in April. That incident involved the virus The Collective imported from China to decimate the Resistance, but that virus is now sweeping through the People’s Republic. Mr. Smith was in charge of transporting that virus.
“My God, what have I gotten myself into?”
James’ train of thought was interrupted by the muffled screams of Debtors being tortured on the higher floors. Sometimes, his excellent hearing was not a blessing.
Completing the Plan
Colonel Porter Young summarized the plan, “So we will launch three simultaneous dawn assaults.
“Round Mountain and Carver’s will be attacked by Salt Lake Squadron from the south while Kingston forces block The Collective’s retreat to the north.
“Down south, a detachment of Zion Squadron, perhaps 100 men, will make a night march up the west side of the Sheep Range while avoiding the Corn Creek Paiute Reservation. They will assault Indian Springs from the southeast, along US 95. They will capture that base intact and neutralize all personnel.
“The balance of Zion Squadron along with Provo and Fishlake Squadrons will destroy every aircraft on the ground at Nellis, except the dozen Blackhawks. Our pilots will commandeer those choppers and fly them to Indian Springs.
“Top priorities for demolition are the Warthogs, B-1s, aviation fuel stores, then the fighter aircraft. Organized demolition teams will break into those munition bunkers and confiscate any weapons or munitions that we can utilize, then detonate any unusable ordnance in those bunkers.
“All pilots, technicians, and other military personnel must be neutralized.
“Fishlake Squadron will then retire back east to Overton, Nevada and continue to demonstrate to the east of Vegas. Fishlake will either capture, or destroy, all solar power plants to the northeast of Vegas. The balance of Zion Squadron and Provo Squadron will then abandon Nellis and continue on to Indian Springs, which will. by then, be under Resistance control.
“Provo Squadron will hold Indian Springs while Zion Squadron continues west and rendezvous with Salt Lake Squadron out in Ash Meadows.
“Now here’s the tricky part. We must consider logistics, our horses. As Sergeant Jackson has pointed out, the desert terrain around Mountain Pass will not support 2,000 horses. The friendly farms around Overton and Mesquite can support Fishlake’s 500 horses. Cactus Springs and Indian Springs can support Provo’s 500 horses temporarily. Ash Meadows can support Salt Lake’s 500 horses for some time. There are Mormon alfalfa farms not too far from Mountain Pass, in Sandy Valley, Nevada, that can support Zion’s 500 horses for a while.
“Salt Lake Squadron will hold in Ash Meadows, ready to support either Indian Springs or Mountain Pass. Zion Squadron will assault Mountain Pass. Approximately 125 Troopers from Zion will conduct an airborne assault utilizing the dozen, or so, Blackhawks captured at Nellis. That assault will be coordinated with a dawn mounted cavalry assault by the remaining 375 Zion Troopers. They will charge down that half mile wide dry wash identified by Recon Team #2.
“We will capture Mountain Pass intact, liberate the Debtors housed in Primm, and seize control of solar power plants surrounding Primm.”
Everyone in the box truck went silent.
Finally, Delvin broke the silence, “Porter, pardon my French, but this is a fucking big plan.”
Tom and John looked at one another, then simultaneously let it all hang out, “Hell yes, that’s a big fucking plan! We like it. About time we run those bastards out of Nevada!”
Porter continued, “Then you’ll really like the rest of the plan. The Arizona Rangers are camped all along the Colorado from Bullhead City down to Yuma. As we speak, they are gathering in Kingman. They will coordinate their assault on Hoover Dam with our assault on Nellis and Indian Springs. They will unplug Hoover Dam from The Collective along with the solar plants around Boulder City.
“Damn, that will completely blackout Vegas.”
“Yes Delvin, Las Vegas will be completely cut off with no power and little water in the middle of summer.”
Shots abruptly rang out, interrupting the planning session. Delvin raised his truck’s rear rollup door.
Adam’s sharp ears immediately pinpointed ground zero for the gunfire, “That gunfire is coming from Miss Stormy’s place!”
Without a word, Porter leapt down from the truck and began running out of town..
Tommy shouted, “Where in the hell is he going?”
John Nicolescu and his Marine sidekicks were armed only with pistols.
Delvin was first out of the truck, “Men, check your sidearms, then let’s quickly work our way up to the National Café.”
“Delvin, I’m hearing AK-47 and shotgun fire.” Tom had a good ear for weapons identification.
Delvin and his men quickly worked their way from parked car, to bushy tree, to dilapidated shed, up the dark backstreet. The gunfire continued. Lights were now coming on in the few scattered occupied houses in town.
As Delvin & Company reached the rear of the Café, Porter brought his pickup to a screeching stop in front of them. Porter hopped into the bed of his pickup and lifted the false floor from the rear of the bed. He pulled two
assault rifles and ammo from the hidden compartment.
“One’s for me. Who gets the other one?”
Delvin shouted and pointed at Adam, “Toss it over to Dead Eye.
“Adam, you work your way around the north side with Vet.”
Porter grabbed Tommy, “Son, we’ll work our way around the south side. Just cover my ass.”
Delvin grabbed his friend’s shoulder. “Tom, it’s just you and me brother.”
“Slick, go ahead and kick in the backdoor, then fall prone. I’ll clear the kitchen.”
Disciplined gunfire was now coming from the north side of the Café.
“That’s AR-15 fire and it ain’t haphazard.” Tom knew Adam was at work.
Delvin lowered his shoulder and hit the backdoor, smashed it open, then fell flat forward onto the kitchen floor. Thomas jumped over Delvin, then crouched low and scanned all around the kitchen.
“We’re clear.”
Now, short bursts of automatic rifle fire could be heard from both sides of the Café. Tom and Delvin slowly crept into the Café while sporadic rifle fire rang out from the Saloon, interspersed with an occasional shotgun blast.
Slick and Tom peered through the large, cased opening that led into the Saloon. They could hear Miss Stormy sobbing. They could see two Militiamen with rifles crouched behind a couple of overturned heavy wooden tables. Delvin nodded his head. Both Marines opened fire with their sidearms.
The crouching Militiamen quickly retreated out the Saloon’s front door. They ducked for cover, quickly joining a few other Militia crouching behind some vehicles parked across Main Street from the Café. The gunfight on Main Street continued for another few minutes, or so.
Suddenly, a shotgun blast from the abandoned motel immediately behind the Militia took out one of their number and wounded another. Lights were now on all over town. A rifle shot rang out from the second floor of an old storefront across Main Street from the National Cafe. Scratch another Militiaman.
As the mystery shotgun and rifle fire continued, Tom Jackson saw several dark figures moving amongst the shadows, abandoned cars, and vacant storefronts across Main Street.
Tom yelled out, “Men, mark your targets. We may have friendlies across the street.”
The gunfight ended in a rapid flurry of pistol shots, as persons unknown took down the remaining Militia as they attempted to flee the scene.
Porter called out, “Clear.”
Vet quickly followed, “We’re clear.”
Tom shouted, “We’re clear in here.”
Delvin ran behind the bar to find Miss Stormy down on her knees crying and tending to Vince.
Vince was lying flat on his back, shotgun in hand, amid a puddle of blood.
The Gauntlet
Earlier that afternoon, Jo was on the final leg of her marathon cross-country odyssey.
“Apache, we’ll just follow this blacktop road north for another half hour, or so, and we should be home.”
“Jo, what in the hell are all those mounds of dirt and pits below us?”
“I dunno, some kind of big assed mine, tucked between some big assed mountains.”
Huey’s radio unexpectantly came to life, “Unidentified helicopter, identify yourself.”
The Super Huey’s missile threat warning began wailing.
“Somebody down there means business. They’ve SPIKED us with some sort of malicious bullshit.”
Some malicious bullshit wasn’t the half of it. The Collective had recently deployed a Chinese HQ-7, nicknamed “Red Flag”, short range surface-to-air missile system at Round Mountain. The system was similar to the SeaRAM point defense systems onboard US Naval vessels. Red Flag was intended to protect high value ground assets from ground attack aircraft such as the Warthog and Apache. Red Flag’s radar was not designed to counter stealth threats or small drones, so Puma’s recent visit had gone unnoticed. But that radar could easily target choppers and had just SPIKED Super Huey.
“Apache keep your eyes wide open for SAMs. I’m heading straight for those mountains to the west.”
Jo was taking the Super Huey down fast and heading due west into the Toiyabes, more specifically Mahogany Mountain.
“Unidentified helicopter, identify yourself or we will open fire.”
Jo responded, looking to gain a few seconds, “Mayday, mayday, mechanical problems and poor radio reception.”
The radio went silent for at least a minute, precious seconds as the Huey neared the mountains.
“Unidentified helicopter, identify yourself immediately! This is a no-fly zone!”
The Keeper was scared shitless, “We do have countermeasures, right?”
Jo laughed sarcastically, “Those fucking flares only work against heat-seekers. They’ve got us locked up on radar.
“Apache, can you see the radar unit, guns, or missile launchers?”
“No Jo, I don’t see any signs of air defense. Hold it. SLAMEYE up our 6! About 5 miles.”
Translation: A surface-to-air missile had been launched about 5 miles to their rear.
Jo curtly turned to David, “Keeper, make sure your ass is buckled up.”
Jo then dove Huey directly into Jett Creek Canyon that ran up into Mahogany Mountain. As Huey ducked behind a tall, black, rocky spire, the Chinese SAM’s proximity fused high explosive fragmentation warhead exploded. The concussion from that blast violently tossed the Super Huey sideways.
“Sweet Jesus Apache, I about shit my pants that time.”
Apache didn’t answer, but he had just pissed in his.
Finally, Apache responded, “Damn it, Jo! I hope your friends don’t have any other surprises in store for us.”
“Jo to Junior, Jo to Junior, CQ.”
Bobby Ray was manning the shortwave up in Kingston, “Skipper to Jo, reading you 5x5.”
“Damn it kid, we’re about 100 klicks south, down here by some big assed mine, These assholes got a damned SAM battery down here.”
“Copy that Jo. Bring Huey directly to Nursery. Junior has nice crib prepared for our baby.”
Jo continued weaving in and out of the Toiyabes, gradually working her way north, toward Kingston. 5 miles north of Round Mountain, the Huey passed just to the west of Carver’s. In fact, Huey passed directly over the rocky perch where the Jacksons launched Puma just a few days earlier.
“My God Jo, what are they doing down there in that little town? Hosting an off-road rally or something?”
Apache had spotted a large number of off-road vehicles parked in and around the small town of Carver’s. Even more vehicles had arrived since Puma’s recon. Jo jinked the Super Huey to the right, peeking out of the canyons, just under a mile west of Carver’s.
“Can’t screw around here too long. Haven’t got much fuel. We’ll just make one close pass…”
Before Jo could even finish her thought, .30 caliber machinegun fire zipped past Huey. Jo quickly turned Huey back toward the refuge of the Toiyabes.
“Damn, I thought we’d come out here, enjoy some fresh air, catch a few rays, and maybe Junior and Slick could fix us up with a margarita, or two. Instead, those two Jarheads have done whipped us up a full-blown war!”
Bringing Home Baby
“Keep your eyes peeled Apache. We should just about be home.”
“Yo, Jo, see that smoke up ahead?”
“That’s got to be it, or else we’ll be walking. Huey’s tanks are just about dry.”
Bobby Ray was scanning the southern sky through Junior’s binoculars.
“Junior there’s a chopper coming straight up the highway.”
Junior, Bobby Lee, and Big Sid had spent the entire afternoon rehabilitating a flatbed trailer out in Ray’s bone yard. That trailer was then hitched to the Hummer that Carlos drove back from the gunfight in Park Canyon. That flatbed trailer was now sitting out front of the three empty hangars on the western end of the small Kingston airport. A big red X was painted in the middle of the trailer.
When Jo saw the trailer, she br
ought Huey down, right on the red X. Before anyone could even begin to exit Huey, Big Sid started the Hummer and began pulling the trailered helo inside one of the empty hangars.
Apache yelled out, “Yo, Big Man, wait up. We gotta fold these rotors.”
Bobby Lee jumped up on the trailer with a step ladder and tools. Jo climbed out and began helping Apache and Bobby Lee fold back Super Huey’s rotors.
“Junior, I didn’t know you could fold up helicopter rotors.”
“Damn straight, Bobby Ray. Marine helos must operate off carriers and assault ships. Hangar storage space is always at a premium. Once we pin back Huey’s rotors, in will go Huey, trailer and all.”
Minutes later, Huey was put to bed thirsty inside the hangar.
Big Sid unhitched the Hummer and slammed the hangar door shut, “That should prevent Huey being spotted by any eyes in the sky.”
Junior then introduced himself and the Skipper clan and Jo reciprocated, introducing herself and Apache, but there was no Keeper and there was no Max!
“Give me a fucking break, where’s The Keeper and Max?”
Junior replied, “Keeper, what in the hell is a Keeper?”
Before Jo could even begin to explain, Apache let out a loud whistle as he peered in through the hangar’s man door. The Keeper and Max were sitting together, inside Huey, in the dark hangar, amongst The Charters, with that assault rifle laying across The Keeper’s lap.
Jo approached the chopper, with everyone else following at a distance. Then Jo and The Keeper had another one of their sidebar conversations. The conversation became quite heated. Finally, Jo just threw her hands into the air. By now, the bystanders were slowly approaching Huey. But not too close. Max made sure of that.
“That, my friends, is David Shulman, The Keeper. And that is my traitorous sidekick, Max. My orders were to transport The Keeper and his cargo to a secure location. Mr. Shulman has just informed me that this damned hangar is not secure and ‘ol Max seems to agree.”