Invasion USA 3 - The Battle for Survival

by T I WADE

“Please count it and make sure that it is correct. May I have the keys? I feel that I now own this apartment and I want complete privacy. Also, here is one thousand dollars, your retainer for my apartment’s security.” The man, his mouth hanging open, looked Mo directly in the face. It was the easiest deal he had ever done.

  “What use is the money?” he replied. “I can’t spend it here.”

  “I agree, but at least I’ve paid you and I believe Preston here will pay you the other half in supplies, for securing my ship. Do you have any weapons?” The man said that he didn’t, and Mo went back to the ship and returned with an M-16 and several boxes of ammunition.

  “Reminds me of my days in the Marines, years ago,” stated Tim O’Shaw. “This will come in handy. You have got yourself a deal, Mr. Wang!”

  Barbara landed on the short runway two hours later and Tim O’Shaw happily took them there in his old Dodge diesel truck. He didn’t have anywhere to really drive it and had stashed several hundred gallons of diesel from dead vehicles around town. His only generator was a gas generator and Preston off-loaded a dozen five-gallon gas containers and a military-issue diesel generator, as well as canned food, cases of water and beer, and even a case of whiskey for the happy man. Also included were a new razor, clothes, a few towels, several cakes of soap, a dozen MRE packs, two bottles of propane gas, and a gas burner, enough to keep Tim O’Shaw happy for the month to come.

  The old Dodge carried the remaining three heavy fish and other items back to the DC-3. The group took off, after closing down the ship and the new apartment. Scraggly Tim O’Shaw, now well-armed and looking happy, waved farewell to the group, proud to be of service to somebody.

  Chapter 21

  Flight to China – April

  The occupants of Preston’s airfield were excited to see the fresh game fish so a fish BBQ was organized for that evening. Many weren’t around, including the President and General Patterson who were in California touring new developments in Silicon Valley and the Cube.

  Mike Mallory had returned to the farm two days earlier to report on the growing problem of increased disease among the surviving populations in the temporary accommodation camps. The most noticeable danger was diarrhea due to dirty water.

  Physical injuries were on the decline, but very little could be done for the injured; they either died or got better. Without electricity, medical personnel could not do even the most basic things such as monitor minor operations or sterilize operating rooms properly. Thousands of doctors, military and civilian, had to renew their knowledge of simple medical procedures without complex sterile systems to back them up. Medical supplies were scarce because the thousands of hospitals and pharmacies around the country had been ransacked, with many destroyed. Apart from several factories and storage facilities commandeered by soldiers, much of the available medicines were stored in military installations. These problems had often been discussed in the dozens of meetings Preston and his buddies didn’t attend. They were not doctors.

  Following the briefing, the President and Chief of Staff contacted all available military medical personnel to go on standby across the country. Then the three men—the President, General Patterson and Mike Mallory— headed out with several of the top military medical corps to find out how many people in Silicon Valley were working on the future of medicine. This area was soon to have active electricity and Mike’s idea was to get medical facilities in the areas up and running. From there they could at least send mobile electricity units out to the camps with generators and establish more availability for the sick to be treated.

  The time for Preston’s trip to China was growing near. He left the farm on the last day of April for Hill Air Force Base in Salt Lake City, where the mission to China would begin the next day.

  The Super Tweets were away flying much of the time, and Martie and the rest of the girls weren’t around for his departure. Marie, Beatrice, and the teenagers offered to look after Little Beth, Clint and the animals for the month Preston and Mo Wang were expected to be away. There were hugs and kisses from all as Preston and Mo Wang boarded the C-130 bound for Hill. Preston was only a passenger on this leg. Carlos was still in California and the Gunships were being serviced and inspected at Edwards for their flight across the world.

  By midnight they had met up with the Marines at Hill who had flown in from Camp Lejeune and Quantico. The fleet of C-130s was certainly growing in numbers. Preston remembered that the last time he flew into Hill there was only one C-130 on the aprons. Now there were nearly thirty, all in lines and ready for their next leg into Edwards. There they would meet with another 1,000 Marines arriving in twelve more C-130s from Camp Pendleton, and also the Gunship, Blue Moon.

  At Edwards, the next batch of 130s waited for them. Every operational 130 was on the tarmac at Edwards. It was certainly a sight to see. From Edwards they would fly to Elmendorf in Alaska with six more 130s loaned from the Navy and Coast Guard. The aircraft from the two branches of service were distinguished by their colors. The Navy’s 130s were gray and the Coast Guard’s white with a red stripe. Valuable supplies were being transported by these six aircraft into Alaska, after which they would return to resume duties across the U.S.

  Carlos and Lee were already there and greeted Preston as he exited his aircraft, Easy Girl. He was the copilot. He and his flight commander had picked her up, serviced and ready to fly at Hill.

  “Which one are you copilot of?” Preston asked Carlos.

  “I’ve got Blue Moon,” he replied, looking towards the five other Gunships now in a line in front of them. “Apart from Blue Moon and Easy Girl, we have Plain Jane, Surprise Package, Pave Pronto and Pave Spectre over there,” he stated, looking over to the line of the four “new, old” AC-130s. “Great names, don’t you think?” Preston nodded.

  For the first time since arriving in the country, Mo Wang was seeing that Zedong Electronics had greatly under-estimated the tenacity of the armed forces of the United States of America.

  “Were all these flying when the Supreme Commander attacked in New York?” he asked, surveying the 54 C-130s of all types and colors now silent on the tarmac.

  “No,” replied Carlos, telling Mo Wang for the first time that the aircraft he had just flown in from Salt Lake City was the second aircraft to bomb the Zedong Electronics buildings in China. It was a place Mo Wang knew well; an office in the second building with his name on the door was now rubble.

  Mo was shocked and his face went white. He had seen the fire power of the 105mm howitzer and the 3 large cannons in the fuselage and he had wondered if this aircraft had reached China. If it had it would have done much damage.

  “Many of these have just come out of the refurbishment hangars,” continued Carlos. “It’s taken the Air Force, Navy and Coast Guard four months to get all these C-130s operational. Mo, now that you are part of the program, I’m authorized to share more information with you than before. Preston, you’re familiar with Blue Moon and Easy Girl because we just completed fifty hours in them. The other four were ripped apart, have reconditioned older turboprop engines, and have the same armament configuration as Blue Moon. We have five Howitzers and five of the 40mm Bofors between us, enough to fight a much bigger war.”

  “You are right there!” stated Preston, excited.

  The Marines, a large group of well-trained men, could be seen heading into a hangar to be given new and specialized equipment made for the mission. Twenty minutes later the dozens of pilots were in the briefing room, General Patterson and Majors Wong and Chong in charge of the briefing.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” started the general. Preston had noticed several women in the crowd of pilots, Sally’s and Jennifer’s faces not among them. “Our first stop is Fairchild Air Force Base in Washington State for the C-130s to refuel, distance 900 miles. The seven HC-130 Tankers are taking fuel into Elmendorf Air Force Base in Alaska to top off their tanks and will be returning the 1,500 miles to Fairchild to refuel again twice, before we head down to Japan. T
hey will have enough fuel aboard to get 21 of our C-130s full of troops to Misawa, Japan, distance 3,100 miles. All our 130s are equipped for air refueling. The movement of all our aircraft into Misawa will take two flights, the tankers will return to Elmendorf within 24 hours for the second flight. It is going to take 48 hours to get the 36 C-130s and six AC -130s to Japan. Once we are in Japan we will have a second briefing for our move into China. We begin takeoffs in 60 minutes, once all refueling here has been completed.”

  Preston was one of the last to take off due to the refueling queue. Mo had been transferred to the general’s refurbished AC-130, Plain Jane. It took an hour for all the aircraft to take off and another hour for them to get into a large formation of aircraft flying up the West Coast at 15,000 feet.

  Fairchild was cold, much colder just before midnight, when they arrived. Again, refueling would take place and they managed six hours of sleep before waking to a rain-swept morning with strong winds coming in from the west. With only one runway, the slower C-130s took off first into the wind and, just after lunch Preston saw the Alaska coastline 18,000 feet below them. The large flight of aircraft was already in single file, a mile between each for final approach into the single north/south runway at Elmendorf Air Force Base.

  There was little wind, the temperature 29 degrees, and the landscape white with snow. There were only 36 spots for the personnel aircraft to be placed at the main terminal so the Gunships headed east across the field to a more narrow secondary apron normally used by fighter jets. The base still had decent fuel reserves, but every extra gallon flown in would assist the dispensing of the fuel.

  The tankers were emptied of their fuel, and with only enough to return to Fairchild, they departed with fresh crews for Washington.

  Preston and Carlos had enjoyed the flying. It was Preston’s first visit to Alaska and Carlos was beginning to see how General Allen had flown such a distance with nothing more than a wing and a prayer, and he—Carlos—guiding him in safely. This flight had directional beacons everywhere and they could even pick up the Misawa beacons from Japan, their next leg in 48 hours’ time.

  It was still winter in Alaska so the pilots stayed indoors enjoying heaps of salmon steaks. One of the radio operators met Preston and Carlos over dinner the second night and told them about his meeting with Allen Key when he arrived in Elmendorf in mid-winter, coming like a ghost out of nowhere.

  They had enjoyed the hamburgers the general brought with him. They had lasted a full week. The radioman was happy that one of the Navy C-130s had brought in another load of frozen burger patties and burger buns from Camp Pendleton’s storage warehouse. Preston hadn’t seen the six other C-130s off-load and return; they left pretty quickly, needing to continue their mission of feeding the U.S. population while all these transporters were on their mission.

  The first flight to Misawa took off the next morning two hours before dawn in sub-zero temperatures, with General Patterson in command. He flew one of the HC-130 Tankers. He had done this in Desert Storm for two years and enjoyed this part of flying more than any other. There were two dozen pilots able to fly 130s stationed at Elmendorf and these men were earning their future non-existent paychecks while the mission crews rested.

  Within 23 hours the general was back with the tankers. They were quickly refueled and the balance of the aircraft took off at dawn in a snowstorm, winds howling in from the west at fifty to seventy miles an hour. Preston did not have the experience of flying in white-out conditions and he gripped the controls harder than usual as the heavy Gunship used far less of the east/west runway than usual. A heavy gust of snow-swept wind pulled the aircraft off the ground and it rose quickly into the air, heading west and into a powerful Alaska snowstorm.

  For an hour, he fought with the controls, the air around the aircraft pulling it to and fro as if it was a leaf in the wind. Then, suddenly they were out of the clouds at 16,000 feet and the layer of white below them was so thick that Preston was sure he could land on it.

  “All aircraft, sunlight at Flight Level 16. Over,” stated General Patterson over the radio in the lead aircraft ahead of him. “Once you are at Flight Level 17, join up into formation and we will head towards our destination, ten and a half hours ahead of us. Transporters, we will begin refueling you in seven hours. You will each get twenty minutes of fuel. There are only 15 of you this trip and we will be done within 90 minutes. AC-130s, you will only need eight minutes of fuel to keep you airborne.”

  They cruised down the island chain between the Bering Sea and the Pacific, the weather getting better as they flew further south. They picked up a tailwind directly out of the north in their third hour of flying and it sped them faster towards their destination.

  Refueling began two hundred miles off the Russian coastline and it all went smoothly. Preston and Carlos hadn’t been trained on this aspect of flying yet and they were told to get some rest. The aircraft commanders would take them into Misawa.

  Three hours before they reached the Japanese coast, night closed in on them. The refueling was completed and each aircraft had sufficient range to get into Misawa 800 miles in front of them.

  Carlos was chatting to Preston on their satellite phones. Not many people in the world were lucky enough to have that privilege, but both Carlos and Preston had refused to give up their phones. Martie also had one, the only one in the training program, and Carlos and Preston spent time talking to Sally and Martie.

  After saying goodbye to the girls at some terribly early hour before their training in an undisclosed location (Martie had hinted Kansas by referring to the Wizard of Oz), the two men chatted with each other in their separate aircraft several miles apart.

  Preston was shocked that General Allen had made this eleven-hour flight over nothing but water and hostile territory, totally blind, apart from simple, antiquated equipment and directional changes suggested by Carlos. Carlos explained that it wasn’t so dangerous, but it showed the strength and endurance of these well-made aircraft. The pilots hadn’t batted an eyelash about the flying on their return either; it was just Air Force flying.

  Finally, they went into the single east/west runway one by one at Misawa Air Force Base on the northeastern coast of Japan. The other 21 aircraft were waiting for them and some of the 747s were due to arrive direct from Hickam Air Force Base in Hawaii early the next morning.

  It had been a long flight. The crews rested while the Marines worked out their boredom by jogging around the heavily guarded airfield several times.

  At 08:00 hours the next morning, after a breakfast of MRE rations instead of the salmon they enjoyed in Alaska, the pilots entered the briefing room as 747s were heard taxiing in to the apron just outside the building. Preston was enthralled to see them up so close. They were certainly beautiful and massive beasts, especially compared to the Gunships.

  Coffee was available and Mo and Preston headed for it immediately, with Carlos not far behind. General Patterson waited until the four aircraft were silenced and the pilots in flight gear entered the briefing room.

  “Sorry we are 30 minutes late,” apologized Major Chong as the 747 pilots entered the briefing room. “We hit heavy headwinds an hour out of Hawaii and they slowed us all the way into Misawa.” Preston noticed that all eight pilots looked Asian.

  “Not a problem, Major,” replied General Patterson. “The rest of today is a relaxing and planning day anyway.” The pilots grabbed seats and the briefing started.

  “Welcome to Misawa, Japan,” began General Patterson, who had flown more miles in the last week than most of the pilots in the room. “It has been a pleasure to get back to full-time flying with you men. Washington is not my area of expertise, as many of you know. Misawa is our only still-operational Air Force base in this part of the world. We have enough supplies and fuel to stay here until the end of the year. The President has stated that we are all going home and every man, woman, and child will be stateside to help rebuild our country. Thanks to Mr. Mo Wang here,” he stated, noddi
ng to Mo in the front row, “we have a chance to go into China for a third time and this time, collect electronic parts, which could help in the rebuilding efforts. As Majors Chong and Wong have done on two previous occasions, we have hoodwinked the enemy into giving up valuable items to help our cause. Without the use of their aircraft, four of which now stand outside this building, we would not have managed to retrieve our many military personnel and other important assets such as food, military hardware and stockpiles of ammunition we had stored overseas. As of three days ago, we have 70 percent of our troops back home and that mission could be complete by the end of June at the present rate. We intend to keep small pockets of Special Forces or Marines, maximum one 747 aircraft load, in certain areas of the world to monitor where it is necessary.

  “We might keep 300 Marines here on an ongoing basis, but that has not yet been decided. It depends on the radiation cloud heading this way from Beijing. By the end of June we could have 1,250,000 military personnel ready to defend our country. Many of you don’t really know how thin we were on the ground back home last year.

  “Now, to our mission: Tomorrow we leave here with the four 747s and go straight into the Harbin area. The Zedong Electronics top secret airfield is twenty miles south of Harbin International. The runways are identical in direction 05 and 23 to Harbin International and there are two parallel runways long enough for your 747s to get in. So, all C-130 pilots, don’t get mixed up with the wrong airport if or when you are needed. You will have exact coordinates for the correct airfield only. You all will be going into Runways 05 left and 05 right. The control tower and main buildings are in between the two runways. Once we are on the ground Mr. Wang will guide us to the main apron. We believe that security will be lax until they see us coming in on radar. Majors Chong and Wong will go in first in two of the 747s, using normal international radio procedures, but in Chinese. We expect that whoever is in control will want higher verification on who is approaching. Mr. Wang, who was a part of their Politburo, will then identify himself and tell ground control that they are returning victorious and straight in from the “new” country. Once the four aircraft have landed, 50 of our Chinese-American men will go out on parade dressed in their captured uniforms. We decided not to use any of Mr. Wang’s Chinese troops for this mission. We also have five of the Chinese engineers and ten of our own Chinese-American engineers ready to look at the stock we are going to retrieve. We hope this will look like an official return by a member of their Politburo to China.