Siege of Lightning

by R. J. Pineiro

  Five members passed the magazines to Ortiz and crawled back several feet before breaking into a run.

  Zimmer approached them.

  “Let’s go, brother!”

  “All right, hermano. Gimme a hand with him.”

  Suddenly gunfire broke out again. Cameron looked back toward the forest and spotted several men moving in their direction. All three unloaded several dozen rounds until the enemy took shelter behind the trees again.

  “C’mon. Let’s go!”

  Cameron looked at Ortiz. “You guys…go ahead. I can’t…can’t make it, man.”

  “Like fuckin’ shit you can’t” Ortiz snapped back. “You’re comin’ with us.”

  “And who’s gonna keep…those bastards pinned down? Who? Now you…two leave me your…weapons and get the hell outta here…before we all buy it. Move it, Tito. That’s…an order.”

  A few men started to move toward them. Cameron leveled the MP5 and blasted a few more rounds. As one man went down, the others jumped behind trees. They were less than forty feet away and slowly closing in.

  “What are you…waiting for, Sergeant Ortiz? I gave a fucking direct order. Move out and take…Private Zimmer with you. Now, dammit. NOW!”

  Ortiz was obviously stunned as he and Zimmer slowly stepped back.

  For one brief moment Ortiz and Cameron stared into each other’s eyes. There were tears in the young Hispanic’s eyes. “God bless you, hermano!” They raced for the clearing almost two hundred feet away.

  Cameron was alone again. The tables had suddenly been turned. It’s payback time, Cameron reflected, knowing that destiny had finally caught up with him for what he had done in the jungles of Vietnam. A life with Marie was not meant to be. That was his penance.

  He shifted his gaze toward the trees and fired several rounds at two approaching figures. He missed and fired again, missing again. His vision was going quickly.

  As the helicopter’s noise grew louder, gunfire broke out. More figures approached. Cameron tried to fire back but nothing came out. The magazine was empty. Cameron removed it and jammed the last one in while chips of wood and bark flew in all directions as the enemy’s rounds pounded the fallen log. He cocked the weapon, brought it up, and fired a ten-second burst across his field of view. Five men went down. The rest disappeared behind trees less than thirty feet away.

  Cameron continued to blink to readjust his vision, but it was getting to be a futile exercise. He began to feel cold. His hands trembled as he threw the empty MP5 to the side and grabbed Ortiz’s Colt. Again, he leveled it at the forest but saw or heard no one, just the helicopter noise.

  He then spotted three, no four, men at ten o’clock. Cameron moved the weapon in that direction as muzzle flashes broke out. Wood exploded in front of his eyes, blinding him. He fell to the side, but managed to control the overwhelming desire to bring both hands to his bleeding face. Instead, he kept his hands firmly on the Colt, brought the weapon back over the log, and fired blindly. Cameron felt the powerful recoil reverberating through his body as he continued to unload all he had left on the invisible figures.

  The Colt ran dry. He threw it over the log and wiped away the blood, regaining partial vision from his left eye. The soldiers were there, dark, impersonal figures less than twenty feet away. Weapons leveled at him for a brief moment before the entire side of the forest came alive with muzzle flashes. Cameron dropped to the ground and reached for Zimmer’s Colt.

  He tried to roll, but his body was overcome by shivering cold. His mind began to wander. He forced himself to focus on the situation and tried to bring the Colt up, but couldn’t do it.

  His ears registered the roar of Stallion One’s main rotor as it began to leave the ground. He had done it. He had kept the enemy back…a figure emerged over the log, then there were two. Cameron fired a short burst. Both figures arched back but were quickly replaced by three other, who trained their weapons on him. He was about to fire again when two loud blasts were instantly followed by a harrowing pain in his left shoulder and right forearm that nearly numbed his senses. He stared at four figures looking down at him. There was no more gunfire, just the trembling thunder from the helicopter. It seemed to get closer and closer. Cameron struggled to see the faces of the figures standing over him. He wanted to look at his executioners. Just four faceless strangers. He was temporarily confused. The rotor noise rang in his ears as a powerful windblast pinned him down on the ground.

  Gunfire erupted once more. From above. The figures arched back. The noise was deafening. He tried to bring his hands to his ears but couldn’t. He was too weak. Too cold. He was passing out. Then through the explosions Cameron heard a voice. A familiar voice.

  “Lower, lower! There! I see him! A little to the right. Puta! No, no! The right, the right! Yeah, that’s it. Now a little lower. There, hold it! Hold it!”

  Cameron saw another faceless figure appear in front of him. This one leaned over and pulled him up. Why? Why bother? Can you see that I’m dying? Cameron tried to fight him but again his muscles gave.

  “Easy, hermano! It’s me, Tito!” Ortiz screamed over the gunfire. “You didn’t actually think we were gonna leave you, did you?”

  Cameron tried to say something, but not even his lips would respond. He wanted to say that he didn’t care anymore. That it didn’t matter. That he just wanted to be left in peace, alone, to atone for past sins. It was his destiny. But instead he felt Ortiz’s arms pulling him up. The young sergeant was hooking his near-limp body to the rescue cable.

  “All right. Up, up! Get him up there!”

  Cameron felt his feet leave the ground. He was floating. It was beyond his control. Then the pain began to subside. The throbbing from his leg faded away. The burning pain from his shoulder and left forearm slowly disappeared as a blinding light utterly smothered him. It was everywhere. He felt confused. He wasn’t cold any longer. The light gave him warmth. Cameron was alone but somehow did not feel alone. There were others there. He could feel their presence. He finally began to understand what had happened to him the moment a figure emerged through the dazzling light. The figures came closer. Ortiz smiled down on him.

  “You’re gonna make it, amigo. You’re gonna be all right.”

  Cameron smiled thinly as his vision partially returned. He stared at someone holding an IV bag over him, and with it life slowly began to seep back into his broken body.

  It was over. All seven surviving members were there. They had made it against staggering odds. A deep sense of satisfaction fell over him as he braced himself and inhaled deeply through his mouth. The old familiar guilt had been washed away by a sense of accomplishment, a sense of fulfillment. The pain of Skergan’s death was still there, but he had proven to himself that he was not a coward, that he could give his own life for a fellow soldier. His eyes filled with a mix of joy and physical pain.

  The skies were clear. Radiant beams flickered through the rotating blades as the bright blue sky met an equally pure blue ocean. A flock of flamingos gracefully broke into flight as the massive ship blasted over the sandy beach. Cameron watched it through tears.

  EPILOGUE

  THE WHITE HOUSE

  Pruett sat quietly as the President finished reading his report on the rescue mission. This was his first time alone with the President. The President put down the stapled sheets of paper and stared him in the eye across the desk. Pruett was not sure how the President would react. After all, Pruett had disobeyed a direct order from Carlton Stice.

  “Well, Tom. It seems like I may have a small problem here. On one hand, I can see why you acted the way you did. You took one hell of a chance, I tell you, because if something had gone wrong with that unauthorized rescue mission…”

  Pruett exhaled. “I know, Mr. President. I know I was taking a chance, but there were American lives involved, sir. I couldn’t just turn my head.”

  “Like
I said, you took a chance and this time it looks like you won. You brought our boys home, and for that I salute you, but I seriously encourage you not to do it again. It could prove to be…career-limiting.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  “Good. On the other hand, Tom, I have a very upset Defense Secretary. He wants me to nail you to the wall for what you did, but I can’t do that.”

  “Sir, I didn’t mean to go against the Secretary—”

  “Oh, yes you did, Tom. Don’t lie to me. I know you enjoyed every minute of it, and this time you lucked out. Carl is just going to have to cool off and let it go. I already talked to him earlier today about this problem, and although he didn’t like my answer to his demand, he’s going to go along with it.”

  Pruett shifted his weight on the chair. “If you don’t mind my asking, sir. Exactly what is your answer to this problem?”

  “Simple, Tom. We keep going in the same fashion as before. Carl stays where he is and you where you are. Both of you are doing a fine job. I understand why Carl acted the way he did. He was simply looking after the interests of this Administration. He was concerned about word getting out on the attack. But I also understand why you acted like you did. You were saving American lives, and you did an outstanding job at that. So that’s it. This whole thing was kept secret from the start and it will remain secret. Lightning is back in one piece and NASA is on the right track once more.”

  “Sir, what about the other soldiers? The ones that didn’t make it back?”

  “I have already talked to the French President, Tom. There are going to be a few quiet changes occurring over the next few months. The Secretary of State will be meeting with the European leaders to discuss this and other issues in a closed-door session next week. Don’t worry, those soldiers will be buried with honors where they belong, and the people at fault will be brought to justice.”

  Pruett leaned back and nodded.

  “In regards to your nephew George. I’m truly sorry about what happened. I called your sister-in-law last night to give her my condolences.”

  “That was very thoughtful of you, sir.” Pruett inhaled at the thought of his devastated sister-in-law and her two daughters. “She’s trying to cope with the situation as best she can.”

  “A terrible thing, Tom. Such a terrible waste.”

  “I know, Mr. President.”

  The President paused for a moment. “Now, tell me. How is your operative doing?”

  “Better, sir. He should be able to walk with a cane in a few weeks. According to the doctors, his leg should be almost back to normal within a year. It was a pretty bad break.”

  “I’m glad to hear he’s going to be all right. Take good care of him.”

  Pruett smiled. “I already have, sir.”

  “Good. Men like Stone are assets to our intelligence community.”

  “I know, sir.”

  The President got up and extended his hand over the desk. Pruett also rose and shook it.

  “You have done your country a great service, Tom. It’s a shame that no one will ever know about it.”

  “Well, that’s the way it is in this business, sir. Thank you, Mr. President.”

  “No, Tom. Thank you.”

  ARLINGTON NATIONAL CEMETERY, VIRGINIA.

  ONE MONTH LATER

  Under an overcast afternoon sky, seemingly endless graves marked the mortal remains of the honored dead. There were rows and rows of them. Some were known, some unknown, but the men buried there had shared a common goal: All had lived and died for the preservation of democracy, of liberty, of peace. Several generations lay next to one another, from those who served in the Revolutionary War, to the Mexican War, the Civil War, both World Wars, Korea, Vietnam, Grenada, and the Middle East. All had come forth when their country had called them. All had served without complaint, without regret. All had died with honor.

  Wearing a dark suit and trench coat, newly appointed Paris Station Chief Cameron Stone stood to the side with the help of a cane his doctors told him he would have to use for the coming months. A cast covered his broken leg. He stared at eight coffins; at the eight members of Mambo who had perished in the service of their country. The eight bodies had been secretly returned to the United States by the French government upon completion of a joint investigation that had resulted in the removal from power of prominent figures of the French and German armed forces, and the arrest of members of the French police as well as a number of powerful European businessmen. The EEC leaders had also appointed a new Athena administration, and directed it to continue with the efforts to develop Hermes and Columbus. This time, however, under the watchful eye of government agencies. Europe would continue to grow in the field of space exploration, but it would do so along with other countries in the quest for knowledge to benefit all mankind.

  Cameron frowned as the color guard folded the flags that covered each coffin and brought them to the appropriate family members. Pain drowned his soul when he spotted over a dozen kids sitting by eight women, all dressed in black. General Jack Olson was there with his wife. Cameron saw no other high-ranking officials, and he wasn’t surprised. As far as the world was concerned, those eight soldiers had perished during a war exercise in Panama.

  He exhaled. At least those eight broken families would never have to worry financially again. Besides the life insurance each family had collected, the EEC had secretly given each family an undisclosed, but sizable amount of money. Two words had come to Cameron’s mind when Pruett told him the money was really coming from Vanderhoff’s confiscated Swiss accounts; poetic justice. Cameron managed a thin smile.

  He shifted his gaze to two uniformed men on the far right. Cameron didn’t know them personally, but had seen their photographs in the papers. One was dressed in an all-white Navy uniform, the other wore Air Force blue. They were the astronauts who had taken Lightning on its historic maiden flight. Cameron smiled at the thought of no one ever actually knowing what had taken place in the streets of Paris, the jungles of Guiana, and the depths of space. As far as the world was concerned, Lightning’s flight had been a total success. NASA was on its feet once more. The damaged engine had been quickly hidden under the special tail fairing NASA had put on it less than an hour after landing. The fairing was normally used to reduce drag during orbiter ferry flights. The orbiter would remain like that until it reached the Cape, where Rocketdyne workers already had another SSME ready for installation. The world would never know the difference.

  Atlantis reached space a day after Lightning landed at Edwards Air Force Base. NASA simply stated that because of a shift in internal priorities the joint emergency drill would have to be postponed indefinitely. NASA treated the matter lightly, and amazingly enough, so did the press. After all, Lightning’s primary mission had been successfully completed, and as it turned out, Atlantis was also successful in its satellite-deployment mission.

  “Are you all right?”

  Cameron turned and looked into Marie’s eyes as she reached for his hand and held it tight. Marie had remained by his side during his lengthy recovery. She had accepted an executive position with the new Athena in Paris. Her plane was scheduled to depart Dulles in four hours. Cameron would remain in Washington for two more weeks to complete all his medical checkups before also heading for France.

  “Yes, but they’re not.”

  “You did the best you could. At least some of the men came back…including you.”

  Cameron nodded.

  “I’m going to miss you,” she said.

  Cameron smiled. “And I’ll miss you, too, but it won’t be for long. I’ll be in Paris in no time.”

  Marie also smiled.

  Cameron looked up and stared at Kessler and Jones once more. He noticed Kessler turn his head toward him, and then say something to Jones, who also looked in Cameron’s direction. Then the strangest thing happened. Both astro
nauts snapped to attention and saluted him.

  Cameron smiled, also snapped to attention, and proudly saluted back.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  R.J. PINEIRO is a thirty-year veteran of the computer industry as well as the author of many internationally acclaimed novels, including Without Mercy, Without Fear, Ashes of Victory, and Avenue of Regrets. His new novel is Chilling Effect. Pineiro makes his home in Texas with his wife, Lory.

  To learn more about R.J., please visit: www.rjpineiro.com or visit him on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/rjpineirobooks/