by T I WADE
“Once we are in communication with the powers that be, Mr. Wang and Majors Wong and Chong will clear the airfield of all their military personnel. I think that ordering them an immediate leave-pass from the grateful Supreme Commander to return to their homes and see their families will do the job. C-130 pilots, you will not get into radar range until either Major Chong or Major Wong radio for backup, understand?” The pilots nodded.
“We will know their radar boundaries once they try to communicate with the 747s on radar and call in to our pilots. All C-130s will be at least fifty miles behind the lead aircraft. Since we are playing this mission by what their reactions are, we will continue with the mission briefings once we have their airfield in our control. C-130 pilots, Mr. Wong has found a smaller airfield about a hundred miles from the target. It is situated in a small town southeast of Harbin. You are to take over this civilian airfield and you will have with you a dozen Chinese-American Marines who can speak the local language and who will be dressed in their Red Army uniforms. They will set up a perimeter and make sure no civilians get close. We don’t want somebody to ride a bicycle over to the target and report there are American Air Force aircraft in the area waiting to attack. You will need to go in low, below 500 feet, to stay undetected for the first flight in. You will be given the exact coordinates later today.”
With the meeting over, Preston and Carlos stayed for a second meeting with all the Chinese-speaking members of the team. Major Wong sat with General Patterson, Preston and Carlos explaining in English what was being said.
“General, Mr. Wang is telling the men about how many soldiers he expects to be at the airfield. Since most of the Zedong army was to be the invasion force on the container ships, and the men who arrived and were beaten in New York would have initially left from this airfield, he doesn’t think that there are more than one to two thousand remaining troops. The airfield should be commanded by a Colonel Rhu and there should still be engineers in the storage depots protecting them from theft.”
“Since all their aircraft systems will still be operational,” stated General Patterson to the group, “remind me to take everything that still works around this airfield. By the time we leave there should be nothing left other than grass, tarmac and empty buildings.”
For another half an hour Mo Wang lectured on what the enemy commander would expect. He explained that he did not think these troops had received any communications since January, were waiting around for new orders, and were keeping the base safe. They shouldn’t expect any trouble apart from civilians in the area trying to steal food or equipment. He had already briefed the general about the nuclear weapons area that was under the control of another colonel, who he had never met. That location was five miles south of the airfield and would be well guarded with an equal number of soldiers; Mo believed he did not have the authority to get into the base or to ask the soldiers to leave at that site.
For the rest of the day the pilots rested, the engineers studied blueprints of parts they were expecting to find, and the Marines continued running around the airfield.
An hour before dawn the airfield came alive as the 36 C-130s and the six Gunships started their engines. Their flight into the area would take two hours, while the 747s could cover the distance in one. General Patterson was going in on the 747 Transporter with Major Wong flying.
Preston and Carlos were again copilots on two of the Gunships and would be part of the flight of C-130s over the Chinese coast at 500 feet. By this time the 747s catching up to them at 25,000 feet, and 100 miles from the Chinese mainland, would likely be contacted by Chinese air control.
Chinese air traffic control voices came over the air several minutes earlier than expected. Major Wong had the radios set to the frequencies they found in the previous Chinese pilot’s flight documents, which gave them all the necessary frequencies used by Zedong Electronics.
“Unidentified aircraft, state your identity and aircraft type,” came an excited but crackled Chinese voice over the radio.
“Chinese Airlines 747 Transporter incoming to your airfield,” replied Major Wong in Chinese.
“And the other three I see with you?” was the second question.
“Three of our glorious 747 passenger aircraft returning to our homeland victorious,” Major Wong replied.
“Wait, I will get the commander,” the voice continued.
Several long minutes later an older voice with more authority asked, “Chinese Airlines 747 Transporter, who do you have aboard who can give us authority to allow you to land?”
“Politburo Comrade Mo Wang is aboard with a message of success from our Supreme Commander, who is currently in his new office in Washington, America,” the major responded, sounding excited.
“Put Comrade Wang on, please,” was the response.
“Good morning, Harbin, this is Mo Wang.”
“Comrade Wang, please tell me my name. I am Harbin Commander and we have met,” the man on the radio responded.
“It is good to hear your voice again, Colonel Rhu. It has taken more time than we thought to get control of our new country and I will tell you all about it when we land,” answered Mo.
“It is good to hear your voice again, Comrade Wang. Why isn’t my uncle, Politburo Comrade Rhu, or the Supreme Commander himself coming to tell us the good news?”
“Everybody is so busy over there sorting out the control and areas to be given to all, that the Supreme Commander, as usual, orders me to do his travel work for him,” Mo replied.
“Yes, you always seem to do his dirty work, Comrade Wang. What does the Politburo want you to do this time?” the base commander continued. His relief that he knew the man aboard was quite apparent by his voice.
“As planned, we are to begin transporting the supplies of parts in the storage warehouses to rebuild our new country. We have four of our aircraft and I have orders to return to America within 36 hours, so I want these aircraft full within 12 hours,” Mo replied.
“What about all the other aircraft which left Shanghai?” asked Colonel Rhu.
“Busy moving soldiers and our engineers around the country. This country is nearly as big as China, a vast land with very few people left. I also have good news about leave for our men, but I will give you your orders when we land.”
The weather was clear and warm on May 5th, as the first two aircraft went into the parallel runways. Mo had communications with the second aircraft by satellite phone to make it look like the aircraft knew where to go and taxi. There was no welcoming committee for Politburo Comrade Mo Wang, this was reserved for the Supreme Commander alone, but he did see Colonel Rhu and a few dozen soldiers waiting for him on the apron where he directed both aircraft to taxi to. The other 747s came in behind and soon all four aircraft were the only aircraft on the large apron as their engines whined to a stop.
General Patterson thought it very weird that an air base of this size had absolutely no aircraft stationed here, but dismissed his concerns for the time being to concentrate on the airfield’s takeover.
Mo knew what to do and, as the mobile stairs were brought up to the transporter, he had 30 soldiers dressed in the captured uniforms run down the stairs waving at the welcoming committee who were totally alone on the apron. They looked happy and victorious and lined up as practiced in formation as Mo Wang descended the stairs. They saluted Mo as he reached the ground. The Chinese-American lieutenant in charge of the American soldiers was ready to fight at a moment’s notice and he was also carefully watching Mo’s ex-Chinese engineers’ behavior. Colonel Rhu walked up to Mo and saluted. Mo was actually smiling and a little happy to be back on home turf.
“Comrade Rhu, it’s good to see you again. I see you have put on a few pounds since we last met a year or two ago,” stated Mo, shaking the man’s hand.
“And the Supreme Commander has been working you harder than normal, Comrade Wang. You are much thinner than I last remember you,” Colonel Rhu smiled, feeling more at ease. “Why have you return
ed with men needed over there?”
“Your uncle sends his regards,” replied Mo, not telling the man his uncle was somewhere at the bottom of the sea, around the entrance to New York harbor. “Chairman Chunqiao and your uncle did not know what we would find here, and as the one chosen to travel, I’m glad to see you are all still alive.” The colonel laughed at what Mo said.
“You are always doing the chairman’s dirty work, Comrade Wang.”
Let’s go into your office. I have several of our engineers aboard and they can start telling your engineer personnel what the chairman wants in the first flight. The other three aircraft have had their seats removed and they will have to be loaded through the smaller passenger doors manually. Maybe I do the Politburo’s dirty work, but my assistant, my nephew Lee Wang, and my personnel pilot, Major Wong, are not going to load these aircraft ourselves!” he replied, smiling at the colonel.
The colonel laughed and turned to lead Mo to his offices. “Have I met this Major Wong?”
“Maybe. He is one of the chairman’s preferred pilots and I would assume is checking everything I do.”
The colonel laughed again at that joke as Mo beckoned to the aircraft’s front cockpit for Lee and Major Wong to join him. Their plan had begun and Lee and Wong knew their roles: assistant and quiet suspicious pilot.
Over his satellite phone, General Patterson gave orders for the C-130s and Gunships to land at the second airfield and wait.
Major Wong and Lee Wang caught up with the group of several Chinese soldiers and Mo Wang, and the major saluted the colonel, the only person with a more senior rank than he. Even dressed in a Chinese flight suit he still had “major” epaulets on his shoulders. The lower ranked captains in the group saluted him.
The colonel saluted Wong back and they continued into the building underneath the control tower, as engineers came out from the same building to join their comrades who had been captured in New York, and several Chinese-American military engineers, also wearing the standard white coats and civilian clothes underneath, under the command of Major Chong. These captured men were already happy to be part of their new country and also knew the others around them were armed and ready if any alarm was sounded.
For an hour, Mo Wang told the colonel and his fellow soldiers about a fake success on both coasts of the U.S., how in several areas there had been resistance, but their glorious Red Army soldiers had fought well and were triumphant, and there was nothing left but starving civilians. The colonel asked if he could return with them to see the new country for himself and Mo suggested that it was a good idea, much to Major Wong’s raised eyebrows on the matter.
“Your uncle would like you to join him over there,” continued Mo. “The Supreme Commander also suggested a vacation for you for your loyal control of his special base, but we must first satisfy the waiting engineers over there and also give special orders to the commander of the nuclear base to your south. Have you seen the commander there at all? I can’t remember his name.”
“Colonel Zhing,” the colonel replied. “He is certainly not a friendly person and has forbidden me or any of my men to go over there. He has loyal men there, enough provisions for several more months and is waiting for the Supreme Commander to personally arrive and actually walk in to relieve him in his heavily protected base.
“How many men does he have there? I have direct orders from the chairman to allow all loyal soldiers, including his, one month’s leave to go home to visit their families,” continued Mo. “That is why you can return and visit America with me. There is no reason for such heavy guarding of our facilities anymore as we now control the whole world. But the chairman did say that a minimum of three platoons, or 100 men, are to stay at both bases while the others vacation.”
“I understand. Many of the men have been waiting to go home for months now. When am I allowed to send them off?”
“Immediately,” replied Mo. “How many men do you have stationed here?”
“One thousand, four hundred,” the colonel replied.
“Then I suggest you let them go immediately, but remember the chairman suggested you keep one hundred here with somebody in command.” The colonel looked at his men, who had enjoyed hearing the welcome news. One man, a captain, suggested that since his men were the airfield’s Special Forces, they would stay and take their leave once the others returned in a month.
Colonel Rhu immediately let his three majors go. They were instructed to tell their men to pack up and get two weeks’ travel rations from the airfield supply stores. He told one major to inform the main gate about the forthcoming exodus from base.
“I will let the majority of my men go,” stated the colonel carefully, “but I think it would be better to keep 200 men at the base and two of my best and trusted captains in control, just in case.”
“It is your base, Colonel Rhu, and I’m sure the chairman would appreciate your vigilance,” replied Mo. Major Wong was thinking that 200 was a better deal than 1,400. Maybe Mo could persuade the colonel to let more go later. It didn’t really matter, as their Marines were coming in far greater numbers and could take over control of the whole base if need be.
“So, back to my question. I have to give Colonel Zhing the same orders from our chairman. How many men does he have?” asked Mo.
“I don’t know but I believe from reports that he has 500 crack troops there and I don’t know if he will take orders from you without the Supreme Commander himself being here to give him new orders,” replied Colonel Rhu. “When are we leaving?” he then asked Mo.
Mo could see the excitement in the colonel’s eyes as he looked forward to his trip to the “new world.” “As soon as I have carried out my orders, Comrade,” Mo replied, putting his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “I must first allow the men on vacation, and then I must oversee the loading and refueling of our four aircraft back to America. Once we have completed that, I am to leave my men here to aid the engineers to take stock of everything we need to transport in the next loads, while our aircraft fly the first load to Washington. Colonel Rhu, we can have the aircraft leave by midnight if we can get the men moving. The chairman wants to see me back in Washington as soon as possible and your uncle told me to get you over there on one of the flights. The travel is not comfortable, Comrade. You will need to sleep on the floor of the aircraft and it’s a long flight of over fifteen hours,” lied Mo, not really knowing how long it would take to fly to Washington.”
Major Wong saw the excitement building in the poor man. He was a decent sort of chap and he was in for a shock once they had taken off. The plan had been to get as many of the troops out as possible and also get the four aircraft full and out of there by midnight, as the first airdrop of Marines were to arrive just before dawn the next morning.
Colonel Rhu had been waiting for this day since October, when the Supreme Commander himself had told him that he could come to America one day. He decided to go and pack, and hurry the men going on leave to get out of the gates. Midnight sounded like a good time to leave.
Mo and Major Wong dismissed the two captains, ordering them to get their men out on parade. If they weren’t going on leave they could get on parade and then take over the duties of the airfield.
They returned to the transporter to see pneumatic trucks and lifts already placing cargo into the aircraft. Lee was ordered to go and take command of what was to be loaded.
Square pallets were starting to be loaded into the baggage compartments of the three passenger aircraft and he was sure that the Air Force pilots were already working out maximum-load possibilities and landing weights for all cargo going into the passenger areas.
Major Wong briefed General Patterson, dressed in civilian clothes in the transporter, about their meeting with Colonel Rhu. The general congratulated Mo on a job well done and looked out of an aircraft window to already see a stream of soldiers in civilian clothes heading for the storage area. Several were already heading for the front gate at the perimeter, but somethi
ng was still nagging at him.
For the rest of the day the loading went on and the line of soldiers heading out in civilian clothes didn’t stop. Mo and Major Wong completed a round of the massive storage area. They had nearly filled the transporter and the three bellies of the other planes and they couldn’t see a vacant area in the warehouse.
Three forklifts were lifting pallets off the highest shelf in the warehouse which had fourteen shelves beneath it. Mo recognized many of the parts through the pallet’s plastic wrap. Fuses for every type of device possible, whole modern computers, Acers out of Asia by the hundreds, computerized electric motors, several large electrical motors and six-foot high relay stations for electrical power stations. One pallet had engine-computer systems with modern battery banks attached, Japanese writing on them, and Lee and Mo were reminded of the idea Preston had about electric cars.
The warehouse made a man look like an ant, it was so large. Mo Wang knew it had taken twenty years to fill it with thousands upon thousands of everything Zedong Electronics had worked on. He noticed Colonel Rhu walking up to them, dressed in civilian clothes.
“Comrade Wang, do you think the chairman will mind me dressing in civilian dress for my vacation? I’m getting my best uniform pressed to be introduced to him when I get there.” Mo felt sorry for the man. He was a very good and kind man and a true soldier. His work was always impeccable and he hoped the truth wouldn’t destroy him when he heard the real story and found out what happened to his family, once he was aboard and out of Chinese airspace.