by Ricky Sides
“Will do, Commander, but you’d better be careful. You only have a foot of clearance on the starboard side.”
“Yeah I saw that during my preflight inspection. Do you think the pilot is trying to make it harder for us? Maybe he resents an inexperienced crew taking his APC out on a mission.”
“I think he was just dead tired. They’ve been making runs for days with very little rest.” Then, smiling at Evan, she added, “I just hope we’re in shape to do better when we get back.”
Evan frowned at that thought for a moment, and then he said, “This trip won’t be bad. We’re all relatively fresh. It’s probably going to be the second and third trips that really start to wear us down.”
“We’ll just have to make sure to eat and sleep as soon as possible when we get back.”
“All right, if you’re ready, I need you to watch the starboard side for me while I try to wiggle us out of this landing slot.”
It wasn’t easy, but working with Lisa, Evan managed to extract the APC from the tight landing slot. As Evan pulled into position to await permission to exit, he saw the other two APCs that were participating in the Junior Team flight program. They were beginning to align their vessels for the mission and he nodded in satisfaction. The junior teams were under strict orders to stay together for the first run. Later, after they’d proven themselves by successfully completing a few missions, they would be permitted to fly solo missions. By then the pilots would be familiar with the routes and proven in their navigational abilities. Evan had mixed feelings about this. A part of him resented the restrictions, but another was glad that this first long haul wouldn’t be a solo run. He was ultimately responsible for the safety of his crew. He had never before been responsible for the safety of five people, and the fact that one of those people was the woman he loved didn’t make things any easier.
Lisa cleared her throat before she keyed the microphone and said, “Control, this is JT1. We are ready to depart on your command.”
“JT1, hold for an incoming fighter. I say again, hold for an incoming aircraft.”
“Roger, control, JT1 holding,” Lisa responded immediately.
A few moments went by, and then the fighter flew out of the tunnel into the massive flight bay of the citadel.
“They say that the flight bay of the battle fortress is almost as big as this one, and the opening is a bit larger,” Lisa observed as she watched the fighter come in for a smooth landing well out of the flight path of the departing APCs.
“I’ve heard the same. I asked Dad about it, but he said it isn’t true. Well, the part about the entrance isn’t. The bay is as large though. He explained that no entrance could be as large as the entrance here because we don’t have the capability of manufacturing a door of sufficient size and strength. The hydraulics is the main problem but there are others. That’s why the Valiant and patrol ships can’t land inside.”
“JT1, you are cleared for departure,” the control officer advised.
“Roger, control. JT1 out,” Lisa responded.
A moment later, Evan nudged the APC into the exit tunnel at a modest rate of speed that was well under the regulation maximum. When they emerged from the tunnel into the afternoon sky, he flew the APC to the designated holding area that was well away from the entrance to the citadel.
“Well done, Commander,” Lisa said with a warm smile.
Evan was just returning her smile when the radio activated. “JT1, you forgot to contact us for a weather update prior to departure. There are strong southerly winds with gusts estimated at thirty-five miles per hour in the vicinity of your destination. Between here and there, the latest reports have it that the weather is fair. However, a strong storm system is reportedly coming in from the west. Be advised that your flight will encounter the storm on the return trip. Do you wish to alter your flight plan and make the return flight tomorrow after the storm passes?”
“Not at this time, control,” Lisa responded when Evan said no in answer to her unspoken query.
He knew that such a delay would thoroughly scramble their timetable, and he would agree to such a delay only if he genuinely felt the trip would endanger his team. “I’ll check with the control people at our destination before we depart for the return trip. If the weather is too bad for flight, they’ll advise us to delay departure. By then, we should have updated weather reports,” Evan explained.
Lisa dutifully passed the message on to the control officer.
“Safe journey, JT1. Control out.”
“I can’t believe I forgot the weather report,” Evan said in frustration. “Just when I was thinking I was doing such a good job too.”
“Do you think you’ll make that mistake again?” Lisa asked. “Do you want me to remind you?”
Evan laughed and then he responded, “I’ll never forget that again. Trust me on that.”
“Then don’t worry about it. Just concentrate on everything else so we don’t make another mistake.”
“You always know the right thing to say to me to put my mind at ease,” Evan said, speaking in a low tone so that his voice wouldn’t carry to the crew compartment. “Thank you.”
Lisa leaned forward and waved at someone behind him, causing Evan to turn and face the port side. He saw JT2 and JT3 hovering in position. He checked with the pilots of the two APCs, and then he led them on the first of the junior team missions.
As he led the mission, Evan mentally reviewed the mission specifics. Their flight plan called for the APCs to fly a northeasterly course across Texas, crossing the border into the southwest corner of Arkansas. Flying across the southern part of Arkansas, they’d cross the Mississippi border in the northwestern portion of the state. Continuing to fly northeast through the northern portion of Mississippi, they’d soon cross the Alabama border in the northwestern portion of the state and fly across north Alabama to their destination near Athens.
The route they were to fly had been traversed numerous times by the regular duty crews of the APCs and was deemed moderately safe. To avoid natural obstacles, flights would have to take numerous detours, but those detours only added a total of an hour and thirty minutes to the flight plan.
The flight plan called for a flight of approximately twelve hundred fifty miles. By ground transportation, that was about twenty-four hours of driving time, but the APCs would be flying at a steady three hundred miles per hour for the majority of the trip. Therefore, they could make the runs in a bit over six hours. The schedule allowed for a one hour offloading, and then they would be airborne again for the return flight.
Evan realized that the bulk of the work would fall to the pilots of the APCs. The gunners would also bear a large share of the workload as they monitored the radio and maintained a vigil in the cockpit. They would be helping to watch for obstacles and watch for signs of marauder activity. More than one APC team had rescued civilians under attack by bands of marauders.
They had been flying their mission for a bit over an hour when Lisa saw a column of smoke on the horizon. “We have smoke at thirteen degrees to starboard of our course, Commander,” she reported.
It took Evan a moment to spot the smoke, but when he did he yelled, “Strike force leader, to the cockpit!”
By the time Ralph poked his head in the tight confines of the cockpit, Evan had already altered course to investigate the smoke. “You wanted me?” asked Ralph hopefully.
“Yes, we have a smoke column to investigate. Prepare your team, just in case, but caution them not to chamber a round until you give the word that your team will be deployed. Order full armor for the men and that includes you.”
“On my way, Commander.”
The radio squawked to life. The radio operator from JT2 was calling to ask why they were going off course. “Tell them we’re going to investigate the smoke on the horizon. I want them to drop back, but keep us in sight. They should have their strike teams prepare for a possible insertion. Tell them they should advise full armor,” Evan said in a rapid fire s
eries of sentences.
Lisa relayed the message verbatim, and while she was dispatching his instructions, Evan carefully studied the column of black oily smoke. It was growing larger as they approached.
Ralph poked his head back inside the cockpit. “What’s the word?” he asked calmly.
“We’ll know soon,” Evan responded as he dumped airspeed for the approach.
“Peacekeeper APC, do you read me?” a deep male voice asked.
“We hear you. Please identify yourself,” Lisa responded by the book.
“This is peacekeeper recon team four. We’re assigned to the Houston base. We’re pinned down by some hostiles. We could sure use some air support.”
“Tell him we’re coming in for a visual,” Evan ordered.
Lisa did so, but the man’s response surprised them both when he said, “Damnit! There’s no time for your visual confirmation. By the time you have that confirmation we’ll be dead. We’re out of ammo and they are charging our position. We need you to fire to the north of the fire. They’re all enemies.”
Lisa looked uncertainly at Evan. “That’s contrary to standing orders.”
“We’re not firing until we have visual confirmation. It’d be different if we knew him, but as of now, he’s just a voice on the radio. He may or may not be who he says he is.”
“Peacekeeper APC, fire! They’re almost on us!” the man’s voice, now edged with a note of desperation, shouted over the radio.
But Lisa held her fire as Evan swept the APC over and past the three men who were hunkered down behind some rocks just to the south of the column of smoke. They emerged over an empty field with no combatants in sight.
Confused by the absence of hostiles, Evan rotated the APC on its axis and for the first time, he got a good look at the source of the column of smoke. The men had apparently dug a pit and filled it with a flammable liquid. Evan guessed, based on the composition of the smoke that was still billowing into the sky that it was oil. Nearby, he saw an SUV clearly marked as a peacekeeper ground vehicle.
The other two APCs arrived on the scene and hovered uncertainly. Their crews were as confused as was the crew of JT1.
“Well done peacekeepers. Resume your original flight plan,” the male voice said calmly over the radio. One of the men stood up and waved. Evan saw that he was holding one of the powerful radios often carried by recon teams in the field.
“What the hell is going on here?” Ralph asked.
It almost seemed as if the man on the ground had heard Ralph’s question because he said, “Admiral Wilison ordered a training test for the first mission of the junior teams. I’m happy to say that you passed the test. Who is commanding the APC?”
Lisa looked a query at Evan who nodded his consent. “Commander Evan Wilison.”
“The admiral’s son?”
“Roger that,” Lisa confirmed.
“Well done, Commander. Keep up the good work and you’ll probably make captain someday. Recon team four, out.”
Evan led the APCs back on course and soon they had left the recon team far behind. “Congratulations, Commander,” Ralph said. Then he added, “You passed your first surprise test.”
“Let’s not get too comfortable with the outcome. If I know my Dad, there’ll be two more tests during our missions. He likes to do things in sets of three. I don’t think he would try another on this mission though. In fact, I think he’ll skip the next mission, and then hit us on the third or maybe the fourth. The next test will probably be harder. Maybe too hard, so make sure you take all of your responsibilities seriously.”
“I won’t let you down.”
“No, not deliberately, but slipups happen to even the most experienced officers. Right now, we’re under a microscope because not everyone agreed that our participation in these missions was a good idea. The slightest errors will be used against us. We simply can’t afford to make a mistake.”
“I understand. I’ll go back and make certain the rifles are placed back in the racks and have the men stand down from the alert,” Ralph said.
“Thank you for your rapid response to the emergency. You stayed calm and relaxed through it all.”
“Actually, my heart was hammering like a drum,” Ralph confessed with a weak grin.
“But you still stayed calm and did what was necessary,” Lisa observed. “Dad used to tell me that any man who says he doesn’t feel fear is a liar. He said all men feel it. He went on to say that the difference between a brave man and a coward was that the brave man didn’t let the fear paralyze him. He does what is necessary, despite the fear.”
Evan nodded his agreement, adding, “Mine says the same thing. You did fine, Ralph. Maybe you should reassure your men. They may be wondering how they did during the testing.”
“They did fine. I’ll be sure to mention it to them, once we’ve stowed the restricted gear.”
Chapter 2
Jim glanced at his watch and frowned. The meeting had gone on for hours, but that was to be expected. It had been over a month since the counsel had last convened for a meeting and they had a serious backlog of issues that needed to be addressed at this meeting. “What’s next on our agenda?” he asked Pol who as usual was acting as secretary.
Glancing down at the paper before him, Pol replied, “The four states that share their southern borders with Mexico are all reporting a sudden influx of refugees entering the country. In the past ten days, they are estimating that thousands have fled north and entered America. The refugees say that they are fleeing a dread disease. Some of their people with medical training have told peacekeepers that there is a deadly influenza outbreak in Mexico that has decimated entire towns.”
“Let’s hope it stays south of the border,” Maggie stated. “We don’t have the federal government manufacturing flu vaccine now. An outbreak here would be horrible.”
“What should we do?” Jim asked. He respected Maggie’s opinions in all matters, but when it came to a medical opinion, there was no one that he trusted more. Both Pol and Tim shared his sentiment.
“The border is basically open these days and it has been for years. I’m afraid it’s too late to do anything about the people who’ve already made it into the country. We could try to quarantine them, but by now, they will have scattered. I think it all too likely that we’d miss someone who is carrying the disease. We could try to set up refugee camps where we’d help feed and clothe the new arrivals and any refugees who are already in country who might hear about the camps and go there for help. We could then monitor their health and quarantine the sick until they recovered. I can call for volunteers among the medical community to go and assist in the process.”
“Such an undertaking would require a massive amount of supplies and manpower,” Pol pointed out.
“True, but the alternatives are worse. Even if we get the word out telling people to avoid large gatherings, I’m afraid it will be impossible to stop the flu from hitting America. We couldn’t prevent that, in the pre-disaster days, and it’s even more difficult today.”
“Then let’s ask California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas to set up large camps. We can use the trucking fleet to send in tents, food, water and medical supplies,” Jim suggested.
“Agreed,” Pol said. “But they’ll need other things.”
“I put together a starting list of the essentials, just in case you wanted to take those steps,” Maggie stated. “Of course, there will be other things needed if the stay becomes protracted.”
“Let’s deal with the immediate needs first,” Tim stated.
“Then you agree with the plan?” asked Jim.
“It’s the only decent thing to do. Besides, I don’t see where we have many options.”
“All right, let’s get things rolling on that plan. Maggie, please give your lists to Patricia and work with her on coordinating the initial runs. Contact the state peacekeeper offices for their input on where to stage the supplies, and for their suggestions on locations for the camps
.”
“I’ll get right on it,” Maggie promised.
“That was the last of the business on the agenda, Jim,” Pol said.
“That means we have time for an inspection of the ship before the first junior team mission arrives. That’s great. I’m looking forward to seeing the progress that’s been made since my last visit.”
They are due in two hours?” Pol asked.
“Yes, approximately two hours. I did arrange for a little field test along the way, but that would only take a few minutes.”
“Then let’s begin the tour, because there have been many changes, my friend.”
“Jim, can I have a moment of your time to discuss a private matter?” Tim asked.
“Of course,” Jim responded.
“We’ll head to the control room and send those dispatches,” Patricia stated.
“I’ll go with you,” Pol said.
“Thank you. We may need your input on cargo capacity,” Maggie said as she looked at one of her lists.
“I’ll see you there, Jim,” Lina said as she followed the others out the door.
“We’ll soon join you in the control room,” Jim stated. He looked at his brother, puzzled by his request. Tim rarely asked for a private meeting, and on those rare occasions that he had, he had always approached Jim when he was alone rather than mention it in front of others.
“Are you feeling okay? You look tired,” Jim observed.
Ignoring his brother’s question, Tim responded, “You once told me that if I ever had more of those dreams to tell you about it. Do you still want to be informed?”
“Do you mean the precognitive type dreams, like the ones about the battle with the slavers in Texas and your mission to the Europe?”
“Yes, that’s what I’m talking about.”
“Then yes, I still want to know.”
For the next ten minutes, Tim told Jim about the dreams he had over a ten-day period of time, which coincided with his first hearing about the flu problem in Mexico. When he finished relating his dreams, Tim was ashen faced. “What do you think we should do?” he asked.