by Ricky Sides
Namid knew he was right. If the fighter fell into the wrong hands, it would be a deadly threat to innocent civilians. But she couldn’t bring herself to leave him there. Shaking her head she said, “I can’t do that, cowboy. The others are close. They’ll be here any minute.”
Painfully, Jeff rolled onto his back and Namid gasped when she saw his face. It had been severely burned. He was about to say something, when they heard voices coming from the other side of the fiercely burning helicopter on the ground nearby. The voices were shouting in a foreign language.
Namid drew her sidearm, but Jeff angrily shook his head. “Get in the damn fighter now, Namid. We need the firepower to handle these men. Trying to fight it out with small arms is a bad option.”
Namid chambered a round in her sidearm and handed it to Jeff, and then she darted back to her fighter. He was right and she knew it. In the fighter, she stood a better chance of protecting the wounded peacekeeper. She had just closed the canopy when a group of several men came running around the burning wreckage. Jeff opened fire on the men at once in an effort to give Namid time to get airborne, where she could easily deal with the threat. Namid brought the fighter to ten feet in altitude and spun it to face the oncoming men who’d stopped to shoot at Jeff. Her minigun lanced into the group of men, sweeping from left to right.
“Who the hell are these guys?” Namid asked herself as she spun her fighter to check on Jeff. He was down on the ground, trying to stop the bleeding of a wound to his thigh, but was obviously in too much pain from the burns he’d received to do the job effectively. Namid spun her fighter in a complete circle seeking more of the enemy, but for the moment, no one else seemed to be near them. She landed once more, and exited the fighter. This time she took a small package that contained the emergency sanitary napkins that female pilots tended to keep in their cockpit emergency kit, because they never knew where they might end up when they were on missions. She ran to Jeff, who had collapsed in exhaustion from his efforts, and pulled her survival knife. Namid slit open the leg of his pants and cut it away. Working quickly, she took a sanitary napkin and placed it over the bleeding wound. Next, she wrapped the cloth from the cut away leg of the pants around the wounded leg, tying a knot in the fabric directly over the wound.
Glancing at Jeff, she saw that he was unconscious. She recovered her pistol, but it was empty. Moving to Jeff’s side, she rolled him over just enough to get to his pistol. She had just chambered a round when she heard a man shout at her from behind. She was spinning in his direction, when she saw the blue laser, streak out of the sky, and hit the man in the chest.
Looking up into the sky, she saw the Valiant coming in for a landing. Moments later, the strike team joined her. “The Captain says to get your fighter airborne, Namid. The other fighters will be here soon, but for now, we need you to check the area for more attack helicopters,” Lieutenant Wilcox stated.
“On my way,” Namid said, moving toward her fighter as the strike team medic knelt beside Jeff. “He has bad burns and a bullet wound to the leg, so be careful guys,” she shouted as she ran to her fighter.
She got her fighter back into the air and flew cover for the grounded Valiant while the strike team medic sought to stabilize Jeff before moving him into the ship. She saw no further sign of any of the blue hat wearing troops who’d been attacking the people of the community. A few minutes into her air cover duty, a squadron of ten fighters arrived.
***
“Now we know what the man meant by blue hats,” Pete said with a frown.
“Who would have guessed he meant United Nations troops?” Jim asked. “And what the hell do they think they are doing raiding an American community?”
“Jim, as far as they are concerned America probably doesn’t exist anymore. At least not as a sovereign power,” Pete stated.
Jim stood silent for a moment in confusion. “Pete, are you saying we just killed a bunch of the good guys?” he asked incredulously.
“Hell no! What gave you that idea?” asked Pete in surprise. Then he said, “Look, Jim, I was just stating the facts. The American government as we knew it no longer exists; therefore, the other governments of the world may perceive this as a period of time when America needs foreign peacekeepers. They may have sent these people in trying to help the people of America, and they could have gone rogue. They could just as easily have been stationed in Mexico when the world went to hell and they lost contact with their home nations. They may have been fending for themselves all these years, and perhaps they have decided to come north. The fact is, we don’t know what’s going on here. But we will find out. And if they think they can come in and take over for other nations we’ll just have to persuade them that it’s a bad idea,” Pete stated with a hard eye look in his eyes.
“Now you’re sounding like the Pete I know, buddy,” Jim said smiling.
The Peacekeeper arrived as Jeff Brown was being treated. Tim consulted with the council via radio, and then he ordered his ship to land on the other side of the settlement so that his strike team could deploy. His team worked toward the middle of the community, which covered several hundred acres of land. Lieutenant Wilcox and his team worked toward the center from their side of the settlement.
Twenty minutes after the arrival of the Peacekeeper, Maggie arrived in one of the troop transports. Two medics accompanied her. When she entered the Valiant, she was met by Pete. “Jeff’s in the infirmary with Doctor Barnes,” Pete informed Maggie. “He said Jeff is stabilized.”
“Alright, I’ll head back there and take a look at his burns. I brought medics with me to help treat the wounded settlers,” she explained. “Where are they being assembled?”
“So far, the strike teams say there are no wounded,” Pete explained.
“You mean all the settlers were killed?” Maggie asked incredulously.
“Some are coming out of hiding, but if they were captured by the UN troops, then yes they were killed,” Pete answered.
“Pete, why would UN troops be attacking innocent civilians?” Maggie asked.
“That’s what we’re trying to determine at the moment,” he responded.
It took the peacekeepers the rest of the afternoon to learn what had happened from the few survivors of the attack. If the renegade UN troops had actually wanted anything, it had not been apparent to the survivors. They had just pulled people out of their homes, lined them up, looked them over carefully, and then shot them.
It was almost dark when the Mexican man that Tim had spoken of drove back into the area in a beat up old pickup truck. The council interviewed him aboard the Peacekeeper with Patricia acting as interpreter. They learned that he had been hunting most of the day. His hunt had been unfruitful, so he’d stopped to check some fish traps set out by the people of the community. The back of his pickup contained a substantial number of fish that he was bringing back to the community, so that evidence supported his story. He had seen the smoke and had come as fast as he could, but his truck had blown a tire as he raced over the rough terrain. He’d had to stop to replace the blown tire. That part of his story was also corroborated by the evidence of a tire with a blown out sidewall in the back of his truck.
The man was cooperative and readily answered their questions until they asked him if he knew what the UN forces were seeking in the community. He then became sullen and reluctant to say anything further on the subject.
The council consulted about the matter in private. Pete voiced the opinion that the man knew more than he was admitting. They decided to try a different approach. When they resumed the interview, Jim asked the man to tell them what he knew about the UN forces.
This question yielded a lot of information, and partially confirmed Pete’s guess that he’d stated earlier to Jim. The man explained that there had originally been several thousand UN multinational troops in Mexico. They had been sent to assist the people, after the series of natural catastrophes that had devastated Mexico in the weeks prior to the night of the quakes. Du
ring those earthquakes, many of the top officers had been killed when the building where they were staying had collapsed. The troops had lost contact with their homelands in the wake of the quakes. Some had tried to continue to help the people of Mexico while they waited for their countries to arrange to pick them up. Others had gone bad and decided to raid the people to supply their physical needs. Fighting between factions of good troops verses bad troops had broken out, but the good troops were outnumbered and they lost. Many were killed, and the few who survived melted into the countryside.
With a reluctant sigh, the man admitted that he had served as forced labor for the rogue forces, serving as a cook for the officers until he’d had a chance to escape a few weeks prior to meeting the peacekeepers. With a look of resignation on his face, he also admitted that he knew why they had come to the community. They’d come seeking him because he knew a lot about their plans for the future. Patricia translated for the man when he explained that cooks, like taxi drivers, tend to be ignored when those they serve are discussing plans. Therefore, the man, who identified himself as Ah Hoya Reyes, had learned much about the upcoming plans of the rogue UN troops.
The council had then asked him to reveal what he knew of those plans. They learned that the rogues had plans to enter America and carve out an empire on the west coast.
“You say they now have about two thousand men?” Pete asked, seeking to clarify the man’s earlier estimate.
“He says yes, that is true,” Patricia translated.
“Then there is no way they can hope to succeed,” Pete said with an air of finality.
“They will succeed unless they can be defeated before they act,” Patricia translated the man’s response. Then her eyes widened in alarm as the man continued to speak to her in an earnest tone of voice. “He says that the UN army has missiles, possibly even nukes, Pete,” she translated.
“What?!” Pete asked in alarm.
The man continued to speak, but he was speaking so rapidly that Patricia couldn’t understand him. Finally, in exasperation he pulled a wallet from his back pocket and opened it. Rifling through the wallet, he pulled a folded picture from it and handed it to Pete.
Pete stared transfixed at the photograph, which had been taken from a high vantage point. Centered in the photograph were three cruise missiles. Standing around the carriages were men wearing UN blue helmets and soft covers. Handing the picture to Tim, Pete said, “Let me guess. They plan to strike an American city if they need to in order to force any resistance to their invasion to stand down.”
Patricia translated what Pete had said and the man responded that he had guessed correctly. Pete then asked how the man had acquired the photograph and he said that he had taken it from the commander’s office one day while leaving a food tray. He explained that he felt he would need proof if he were going to convince people that he was telling the truth. But when he had arrived in America, although he had shown the picture to many people, no one had displayed an interest in the photograph.
“They wouldn’t have understood the context or that you were trying to warn them,” Pete said, nodding his head in understanding.
Pete, these are American missiles,” Tim stated. “What the hell were they doing in Mexico, and how did these guys get them?”
Pete shrugged, and then replied, “I’d just be guessing, but I can think of a reason. I’m sure you remember how so much of our navy was tied up doing rescue and relief work in the wake of the disasters. That may have required the redeployment of assets to compensate for the shortage of naval vessels. Mexico would be a good choice because of the geographical location. Getting them in country would have been tough for the American government. But with the UN backing the move, it would have been much simpler, especially if UN troops had at least partial control of the assets. From Mexico, the missiles could be used to protect the Panama Canal, fight off an armada in the Gulf, or do the same in portions of the Pacific. It was actually a pretty smart move.”
Pete shrugged again, and said, “We’ll probably never know exactly how they came to be there, but that’s not important. They are there, and we have to deal with that fact.”
Turning to Patricia, Pete told her to ask the man if the three missiles in the photograph were the only missiles the UN troops had at their disposal. The man confirmed that they were all of the missiles the men had to the best of his knowledge, but then he said that they had smaller missiles that they could fire from the shoulder.
“Probably stingers, or something similar, which would have been deployed to guard the missile assets,” Pete mused.
“This means our pilots will be at risk when we pull an air raid,” Tim said.
“Let’s try not to make the same mistake the UN forces made,” Jim said quietly and nodded his head in Ah Hoya’s direction.”
Comprehension dawned in Tim’s eyes and his nodded his head in silent agreement with his brother’s caution. The man seemed to be legitimate, but they had no way to confirm anything that he was telling them. He could easily be a plant sent here by the UN forces to feed the peacekeepers misinformation. He could also be legitimate, but he was an unknown element to them at this point. By talking of their plans in front of the man, they could well be providing information for a spy. “Patricia, ask him why he didn’t show me the photo my first day here, when he tried to warn me,” Tim said.
Patricia asked the man the question and then listened to his answer. “He says he had left his wallet in his home. He left to go and get it, but by the time he had returned you were gone,” Patricia explained. Ah Hoya spoke again, and Patricia added, “He says that twice more the peacekeepers visited, but on both occasions he’d left his wallet at home for safekeeping.
Then the man surprised them all when he began to cry. He removed his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a picture of a lovely young woman. “Maria,” the man said as reluctantly he handed the photograph to Patricia. He then spoke in rapid fire Spanish, but this time Patricia was able to understand him.
“He says that this is Maria. She is his sister. She was taken captive at the same time he was and she has been forced into prostitution by the rogue UN men. He says he tells you this so you will understand that he left his wallet at home for safekeeping to protect the last remaining photograph he has of his sister. She is all the family he has left,” Patricia explained. Then she added, “He cries because he could not take her with him when he escaped. He is asking if we can save her and the other women who are similarly imprisoned in a life of forced prostitution. He is volunteering to go with us to fight the men.”
Pete examined the photograph closely and passed it on to Tim. He noted Ah Hoya’s eyes as they followed the picture from Tim’s hands to Jim. He had a feeling the man was telling the truth. He watched as Jim handed the photo back to Ah Hoya. The relief in the man’s eyes seemed genuine.
“Ask him why he carried the wallet today. He was usually careful to safeguard the picture, so why did he carry it with him today?” Jim requested.
Patricia asked the man the question and translated his response, “When he goes hunting, he spends hours waiting for game to come by the trail. He has time then to look at his sister and remember happier times. He also asks again if we will help recover his sister.”
“We have to find the UN troops before we can do anything,” Pete responded, and Patricia translated his response to Ah Hoya.
Once more Ah Hoya’s response was so fast that Patricia couldn’t follow what he was saying. Speaking to him, she asked him to take his time because she wasn’t fluent enough in his language to follow him when he spoke too fast. The man repeated what he had said more slowly and Patricia responded in Spanish. “He is asking if we have a map of eastern Mexico that he can see. He thinks he can show us where their base is located,” Patricia explained. “I’ll go get my laptop. I have extensive maps loaded in it,” she said.
Pete studied the man while Patricia was gone. Ah Hoya appeared to be in his early to mid-twenties. His si
ster appeared to be about eighteen in the photo. He thought they could trust the man. He seemed genuine, but there was still a small lingering doubt.
A moment later, Patricia entered the room with the laptop computer. Ah Hoya’s eyes centered on the screen and he pointed his finger at the map. He spoke to Patricia briefly, and she replied. She gestured to the laptop and stepped back to permit the man to operate the computer.
Working quickly, Ah Hoya placed the mouse where he wanted it. He zoomed in on the map until he had it situated on the area of interest. He then switched it from a map to photographic image. Once more, he operated the zoom until he was satisfied, then he turned the laptop to face the peacekeeper council. He pointed to the coordinates that he had displayed along with the map, and then spoke to Patricia.
“He says, they are here in this location,” Patricia explained.
“I have the coordinates,” Tim responded, looking up from his note pad.
Ah Hoya spoke to Patricia again. This time he remembered to speak slowly. Translating his question, she explained that he wanted to know if they would help his sister.
“We’ll try, but this isn’t going to be easy, so we can’t promise to succeed,” Jim stated.
When Patricia translated his response, Ah Hoya Reyes bowed his head in relief. Seeking to console the man, Patricia explained to him that they had successfully conducted rescues in the past.
Pete waited for her to finish speaking to the man, and then he said, “Ask him what city they plan to target with the missile.”
Patricia relayed his question, and the man responded immediately. When he finished speaking, she said, “Ah Hoya says that they plan to set up their little kingdom in San Francisco, California. They want to be well north of the fallout zone. Their target city will be Los Angeles.”
“There are millions of people living there,” Tim said soberly. The peacekeepers estimated that the population was less than half of the pre disaster level. ”Do they think Americans will do nothing if they nuke our city?” he asked.