by Unknown
Hammond stood and addressed the group. “Nice work on everyone’s part. We are now three quarters of the way through this process. I will be leaving in two days to talk over the plans of our European allies and get a better feel of their concerns and priorities. General Richardson will accompany me on this trip and when we get back, we will meet to go over what was said. I have been sharing some of what we are doing with both the CNO and the Undersecretary. I believe we have gotten their complete attention. Now it’s up to us to make the final plans to wrap our task up in a neat package. I thank you for everything you have done so far. I really do believe what we come up with will be of great value in the coming months. Thank you all again,” he said concluding the meeting.
The group got up and made its way to the doors. Best hung around for a few minutes and walked up to Hammond. “Surprised?” he asked with a grin.
Hammond chuckled. “You know, I never even asked about Rod’s family. And I never dreamed he could speak Russian. How did you find out? Or should I ask?” he grinned.
“It was in his security clearance. I just went up and asked the rest. He’s very forthcoming about things. He may not know it, but he has the same pride as his grandfather. Nice kid,” Best said.
Hammond nodded. “Yes, he is, and very good at what he does. I’m glad he’s on our side,” he said.
“Roger, I can already see where this is going. Young Jeffers and I talked about it yesterday while we were preparing for today. He has some very insightful ideas. He mentioned he has talked to you as well.”
Hammond nodded. “We talk a lot and see eye-to-eye on most things. He also thinks outside the box. He told me he’s making up a list of things he would be concerned with in preparation for any real conflict. Quite frankly, I am eager to see that list. I want to compare it with my own. You have some thoughts?” he asked Best.
Best nodded. “A bunch. I’m looking at their recent activities to see what patterns are sticking out. That will be ready when you get back. Between the three of us, we might just scare people,” Best grinned.
“Hope so, Harry. That’s what they pay us for,” said Hammond before leaning in toward Best, “and thanks for all the support over the last month. It’s been a little tough corralling the four stars to keep on point.”
Best slapped Hammond in the shoulder. “Roger, we all know it’s not the rank, it’s the mission. You were tasked to get the job done and either they are on the team or not. You’ve shown them you could more than do the job. It’s been kind of fun watching them get moved around without them knowing it.”
“Yea, but you were a big help running the interference the first couple of weeks. I appreciate it,” Hammond said sincerely.
“Wouldn’t have missed it,” said Best. “Have a nice trip,” he said as he turned and left the room.
Hammond watched him leave. Harry Best was now on the ‘friend’ list. He couldn’t wait to introduce him to his other friends.
Marine Barracks
Washington D.C. evenings during the late summer were always hot and muggy. It was 8:30 in the evening and the sun was still on the horizon. The traffic in the city had finally died back some, but the fumes of the day hung in the air. It almost burned the eyes to be outdoors, yet many could be found out walking, getting at least a little exercise and trying to slough off the tensions of the day. Claire Richardson was no different. Getting back to her quarters just a half hour before, she had immediately shed the uniform and donned lighter clothes and some sneakers. She used to run, but age had crept up on her and now running was out of the question. Now, she walked at least a mile a day and worked out in her small home gym. She was proud of the fact that she could still keep up with the younger Marines in most of the physical training. But the knees and hips had begun to weaken, so she simply changed her routine.
As she walked along at a brisk pace, she was surrounded by the sights and sounds of the neighborhoods. Some families were out, with children playing along the narrow yards and in some side alleys. Claire didn’t notice them. She was very concerned. The more the task group had gotten into their mission, the more she was seeing that the United States was ill equipped to take on what was about to happen. War was coming. She could feel it. It was looking like the allies would have to kill the enemy at a rate of about ten to one. Those weren’t good odds. True, we had better equipment and well trained troops, but going up against five million people under arms was something she knew was going to be almost impossible.
Hammond had been right. The group had been able to identify the potential threat and gather all the information on who and what we would fight. We had even figured out what would probably be the first moves. But coming up with a way to even the odds was something that was stumping her, and that was driving her crazy. How do a half a million troops take on 5 million? Better yet, take them on and win. She didn’t like not having the answers.
On the plus side, if anyone could figure it out it would be this group. Hammond had pulled together the perfect team. Yes, it was rough at first, but when everyone saw their unique roll, they lined up. She had admired how Hammond had done it. Then again, leadership was something she valued above all things. She almost chuckled when young Jeffers had come up to tell about his family. The look on Hammond’s face was priceless, yet at the end, he was beaming like a proud father. Jeffers was a smart kid. The few times she had worked with him, she could sense the abilities of the young man; something she had sensed only one time before on a dark, lonely deck of a ship at sea.
She entered the Barracks at 8th and I, and made her way around the old brick buildings. She slowed near a coffee bar that had recently been set up on the grounds. Inside, young Marines were cheering on a young man playing some video game. Entering the bar, she ordered an iced coffee and eased back to watch them play. On the screen the images were almost like what would be seen by an insect, except that it was flying around shooting people. The people on the screen were doing what they could to fight it off, but couldn’t quite reach it. Richardson leaned over to one of the young men watching the game. “What kind of game is this?” she asked.
Without turning his head, he answered, “It’s called Drone Attack,” he said, then let out a whoop when the drone was able to take down what looked like a hugely built soldier.
She watched a while longer as the drone was finally shot down, then the game reset and suddenly there were hundreds of them flying across the sky until it centered on only one drone again. It dropped down through the trees and began shooting at soldiers around the area. Suddenly her eyes opened wide and she stood up straight. Looking around the room, she first wondered how it could be done, but it was already being done both here and in about a million other homes where young people were fighting their war in the video game.
The iced coffee was downed quickly, and despite the knees, she began to run back to her quarters. The question on her mind – what kind of small drones did they have in the inventory?
Frankfurt, Germany
General Helmut Dortmund stood on the wet ramp waiting for the American officers to arrive. Beside him was General Erik Pol, a representative of the Polish army. Dortmund wasn’t too sure about his task. The Commander of the Joint Allied Forces was making his first trip to Europe, and they were there to greet him. Unfortunately, it was a naval admiral, not a general. But, protocol dictated that they still greet him and help him get acquainted with their situation. The men hope he had his act together.
Dortmund looked at Pol. “Do you know anything about this guy?” he asked.
Pol shrugged his shoulders. “Some sort of naval hero. I understand he received their Medal of Honor. One of my staff told me he commanded ships during their last big war with Korea and was the man who saved a lot of their citizens in Venezuela when Parente stepped in it. He’s only a three star. I can’t imagine some of the allies working with him. The French will almost be insulted,” he said with a slight grin.
Dortmund nodded his head. “I got some of the s
ame information. Evidently, their people must think highly of him to put him in this job. I hope he’s up to it,” he said as he saw the blue and white jet land at the end of the runway and begin making its way toward the ramp where they stood.
The jet taxied onto the ramp and shut down its engines. The door on the side opened and a tall man in a white uniform stepped off the plane, followed by a shorter woman in a green uniform. Both had three stars on their uniforms. Dortmund and Pol stepped forward and made their introductions, then they walked back to a car sitting a few feet away. Some men gathered the baggage and placed it in the trunk before the car sped away.
Inside the car, the group was already getting down to business. “How much do you know about our situation, Admiral?” asked Pol.
“Well, that’s one of the main reasons I came. I want to make sure I know everything I need to know so that we are ready when the Russians cross the border. I brought along some information to share, but I also want to get to know you and you me. We’re probably going to be up to our necks when this starts, and that’s no time to get acquainted,” said Hammond. “That’s also why I brought along General Richardson. When you guys start talking about ground operations, she speaks your language. I’m also figuring she will be helping us out,” he said. “Claire commanded the First Marine Division during the Korean War and she was the main drive up the coast and into Seoul.”
Dortmund’s eyes widened. “I thought I recognized the name. I followed your efforts up the peninsula. Tonight, you and I will have a beer and talk combat,” he said with a smile.
Richardson grinned. “You’re on, General, but I hold the line at two beers. We’ve already had a long day,” she said. “Besides, I want to hear what you have planned, myself. Between the four of us, we might at least scare the Russians to death,” she said. Both Pol and Dortmund sat back and laughed. Already they liked these two. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.
The ride to the base was a pleasant one, despite the rain. Once there, both Hammond and Richardson were deposited in their rooms for a short time to freshen up, then everyone met again for dinner. They were joined by the representatives from several other countries. Everyone was eager to meet the two Americans who were supposed to be in charge. One of the reps was a nice reprieve.
“Roger Hammond! As I live and breathe, how long has it been, old man?” announced a vice admiral, resplendent in his Royal Navy uniform and boasting a splendid mustache that was as red as his hair.
Hammond broke into a wide grin. “Sir Richard! I am so glad to see you again,” he sang out. The two men shook hands with enthusiasm and then Hammond introduced Richardson. “General Richardson, this is Sir Richard Thomas, the Royal Navy’s Deputy Chief of Naval Staff. We met when Iowa came to Portsmouth after the war. Be careful, you mentioned a beer earlier. I dare say this man may be able to drink the bar dry.”
There was laughter among the officers as Sir Richard slapped Hammond on the shoulder. “Never fear, only one of my legs is hollow, but if there’s a pint of Guinness available, I’ll lead the charge,” he said boastfully. One of the servers dashed away to get the pint. “Richardson, you say? Don’t tell me you’re the one who led the troops up the Korean peninsula,” he said eying the smaller framed female before him.
“The very same,” exclaimed Richardson. “And I’m hoping to do a little bit more of it when things begin happening here.”
Sir Richard’s ruddy face broadened. A twinkle appeared in his eye. “Well then, it appears we have a lot in common. We need some aggression in some parts. Roger, I like the people you associate with,” he announced. “Is everyone here?”
“It seems our French colleague hasn’t arrived yet. He may not come at all,” said Pol.
Sir Richard’s face clouded. It was obvious he didn’t really like the French liaison. “I see. Then he’ll bloody well miss out. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s retire to our table.” It was obvious that when present, Sir Richard was a man in charge.
The meal was served and both Sir Richard and General Dortmund sat with Richardson at the table. Before the evening ended, all had become friends.
San Pedro, California
Patricia Hammond was having a good day. Several planning meetings for the city budget, public works and with the harbor commission had gone well. There was change in the air in San Pedro. The dockyards and repair facilities were expanding and the harbor was being deepened to accommodate the larger ships that seemed to be coming off the ways every day. She had also just signed a contract to begin road resurfacing on the streets of the city. That task had been put off for several years due to budget restraints, but with the city expanding and more high-rise apartments and hotels going up, revenues were also rising. It was four in the afternoon when she decided to get Little Steve and call it a day. Often she worked till six or seven, but with Roger away, she decided to take Steve to the park and have a little time to themselves. Little Steve’s daycare was on the ground level of City Hall. After gathering up her son, the two exited the building and made their way to the John S. Gibson Park only a block away from USS Iowa’s berth.
The tremor was light at first, then suddenly the ground began to convulse. Scooping Steve into her arms, she grabbed a palm next to the sidewalk she held on for dear life. All around her things began to fall. The street began to crack and tear. Water began cascading out of the cracks as the water mains were torn apart in the upheaval. Light poles began whipping back and forth and the power lines also began parting, sending showers of sparks along the road where they met. She heard what sounded like an explosion and turned to watch City Hall begin crumbling to the ground. Other snaps could be heard and she saw several of the large cranes, used for loading and unloading ships fall to the ground or into the water. The shaking became so violent, she could not remain on her feet. She fell to the ground still clinging to her son and held on while the quake tore into her community. For a full six minutes the ground shook. Then, almost as quickly as it began, it stopped.
There was a strange quiet all around her as she lifted her head from the dust and began looking around. The usual noises of cars and the harbor were gone. Only the splash of water from where the pipes broke disturbed the quiet. Patricia looked at her son. His bright eyes were calm and looked around in wonder. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m okay, Mommy,” he said as he began pushing himself up from the ground.
Patricia got up and dusted him off, then herself. Looking around, most of the buildings were damaged. She looked back at City Hall to find that the entire front facing of the building was gone. It was nothing but rubble in the street. Fortunately, people were starting to come out of the rest of the building, stepping over the rubble, to gather along South Beacon Street and look at the destruction around them. She called out to them and motioned for them to come over to her. Once there, she began getting things organized.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Patricia said. “It seems we now have to put on another set of hats and get some things done. Mister Conseca, can you take a couple of people and get over to the Iowa. I want to ask their help during this crisis. We’ll need everything, food, shelter, electricity, the works. I want to make the site our disaster relief station.” She turned to another. “Ms. Ranier, try and get with the police and fire departments to let them know what I want to do. Have them start directing anyone down to the Iowa. Then I need them to get me an idea of how bad it is. I’ll be there.” Turning to another man, “Jason, get some people and see who needs help in City Hall. If you can, get them out or wait with them till the fire department arrives.”
“Sharon, can you see if we can get hold of the Red Cross? I need cots, blankets, water, medical care and other services down at the Iowa as quickly as they can,” she said.
The Mayor turned to the rest. “People, now is the time to do good. Get out there and help people. Get them down to the pier and we will operate from there. I know you will want to check with your families, but we may not be able to for a whi
le. Let’s all work on taking care of the people we serve. If you need anything, come see me at the Iowa.” She paused a moment. “And thank you all. I know I’m asking a lot, but as you can see, there’s a lot we need to do,” she said.
As they began to break up, the earth shook again. This time it was almost as violent as the first. Everyone was thrown to the ground. After a few more minutes the quake ended. After this one, most of the buildings were either down or very close to toppling. Through the dust the people heard Patricia say, “Let’s get going.” Each began making their way to get the recovery started.
USS Iowa
The ship didn’t feel the quake like the others. But the bobbing and rocking made it feel like Iowa was in a storm. Fortunately, the hawsers used to hold her to the pier had enough give that the ship remained in place. About half way through the shaking, the electricity went out on the ship. Lieutenant Commander Bill Strasser, the Officer in Charge of the Iowa Detachment sprang into action, ordering his people to be ready to light off the plant. Already one of the Machinist Mates had gone to the forward Motor Machinery Room. The beam from his flashlight illuminated a huge diesel engine used to provide auxiliary power to the ship. Making sure all the valves were opened and that there was fuel and coolant to the big engine, he pressed the “start” button. The big diesel turned over and within a few seconds electricity from the generator began lighting the space. Flipping some breakers, the Machinist Mate directed the power to the rest of the ship.