Both Claude and Anne-Marie took branches and used them as brooms to spread pine needles over their tracks as they backed 50 paces. They then tossed the branches far from their path and set off in a new direction at a sharp angle away from the direct route home.
“Hold on to my hands and walk backward. That way we will leave tracks both directions, looking like we had come and gone along this route.”
They kept this awkward process up for about 500 meters until they came across a granite outcrop. No tracks would show up on the hard rock surface. They both paused and drank some water before crossing the rock surface. Anne-Marie came up with a plan
“I know a way back that should fool them. Let’s go down to the streambed and then walk up-river. They won’t be able to follow tracks on the rounded stones on the bank.”
Claude nodded and the set off. It would take them another three hours to get home.
* * *
“Where have you two been?” asked their Father Jean as they entered the cabin. “I’ve been worried sick.”
Jean hugged them both firmly and kissed their cheeks. He glanced at the beautiful mink on Anne-Marie’s pack, but did not speak of it.
Claude answered first. “We came across some men in a clearing on the way to White Mountain. They were speaking English and talking of killing farmers. They all had weapons and were very dirty. They were drinking their own fuel.”
Anne-Marie added “I could smell them at 50 meters. They are worse than animals.”
Their father sat down and was silent for a moment. Both Anne-Marie and Claude turned as they heard their mother’s coughing. The spasm of coughing went on for some time. She sounded worse than the day before. Their father motioned them to sit while he composed himself.
“I have known this day would come, but hoped it would not be so soon. The English speakers that you saw are terrorists. They move from house to house killing everyone and taking what they can. They don’t just kill, but rape and torture their victims before killing them slowly. They do not care about wasting alcohol or the affect it has on their bodies. They are sadistic killers, but they are not stupid. We cannot win against them.”
“But why do not the Gengon Council act against them Father? Surely the Council has the power to arrest a small band of men.”
“My daughter, you are right, but the Council does not act. These men empty the mountains of our people, leaving the land free for more Northern English to inhabit. As long as they only kill our kind the Council looks the other way. I have heard that the Council supplies them with weapons, but not with food, so that they will continue the killing. The Council is just as evil as the men you saw, but more subtle in their methods.”
“It is good that you saw them, for it gives us some time. I have made preparations for your escape.” Their father opened the trap door to their basement. Inside were two fully stuffed packs made of fine hide and several canteens. He opened a small door on the side of the basement wall and led them in.
“This tunnel was built many years ago by the farmers who used our basement to store kegs of cider. It opens straight to riverbed here.”
They came out beneath a willow tree on the side of the river. The remains of a wooden pier were visible at their feet.
“The farmers would load and unload the kegs here from small barges. The tunnel saved them the work of hoisting the kegs up the hill to our house. They were clever people. Now you can use this tunnel to escape when the time comes.”
Claude frowned. “But Father, we can’t abandon you and mama here. Those men will surely kill you.”
Their father led them back through the tunnel towards the house.
“If your mother were well we would all leave and go south. But she cannot travel in this condition. I will stay here and make sure that neither of us is taken alive. But you two most go. There is no reason for all of us to die. We have given you all the knowledge we have. You must put it to work for the next generation.”
Their mother made a faint sound as the emerged from the trap door, and all three entered the bedroom. Her skin tone was grayish and there was little color left in her lips. But her eyes shown brightly as she gazed at her children.
“You must make me one promise before you leave children. Promise me that you will teach your children all that you have learned from your father and I. Promise this to me now.”
Her words were faint, but carried determination. Having children was a remote idea for Claude and Anne-Marie, and normally they would have argued with their mother. But it did not seem the time or place to argue. Both children nodded.
“Oui, mama. We will do as you ask, but we want you to get better and leave with us.”
“I too wish for this, but it is too late. The pneumonia has taken over my lungs. Your father should shoot me now and leave with you, but he is a stubborn man. We have had a good life and have had the joy of seeing you grow into fine people. It is sad that we cannot live longer, but I will die satisfied if you leave in safety.”
“Come” gestured their father. “We must let your mother rest and go study the map. There are good people to the south of here, but you must travel 150 kilometers to reach them. Pay attention. We haven’t much time.”
John was distracted. His mind kept switching between Eric’s impending arrival and Barbara’s command to dinner that evening. As he walked towards his plane he spotted a young pilot standing at attention next to the cockpit. This must be Gabriel Hermandez. The recruit snapped a salute and barked “Lieutenant Gabriel Hermandez” reporting for duty sir!”
John’s return salute was not nearly as crisp. “Glad to meet you Lieutenant. I’ve seen you several times before, but never had the chance to meet you.”
“Very happy to meet you Sir!” Hermandez shouted, while still maintaining his full attention posture. John realized the boy was scared stiff, and compensating by being 110% correct. He was not going to be able to fly well like that.
“At ease Lieutenant. We are going to be flying together, not marching on parade. Military formality has its place, but not in my cockpit. For the duration of our flight I’d like you to treat me as a friendly flight instructor, not as a superior officer. Understood?”
Hermandez relaxed slightly and said “Yes Sir.” John could see that the Lieutenant was not sure how to behave. What were they teaching in flight school these days John wondered?
“Let’s preflight the aircraft together” said John as he reached into the open canopy to pull out a check list. “My method is to do the entire preflight from memory, and then double check it from the written list to see if I missed anything. That OK with you?”
Hermandez relaxed some more. “Yes Sir, that would be fine.”
“This is my ship, registration number N151AR, call sign Alpha Romeo. It is a late a K model. 20 meter wing span and two seats. I usually fly the front seat, but I’m going to let you have it today since you will be doing most of the flying. You will find that the K model is pretty close to the trainers that you have been flying, but much more sensitive on the controls. My mechanic JP doubled the size of the primary control surfaces to make it more maneuverable in combat. You don’t need to move the joystick much to pull six Gs.”
The aircraft was beautiful. The wings were incredibly long and narrow, and drooped slightly with no air load to suspend them. The fuselage was perfectly streamlined, with just enough room to hold the two pilots in tandem. The tail was shaped like a T, with the horizontal stabilizer atop the rudder. The primary weapons were mounted beneath the pilots, although additional weapons could be mounted under the wings. Even the weapons were carefully streamlined. Covers hid the openings of the two 30 caliber machine guns until the trigger was depressed. The aircraft’s registration AR, or Alpha Romeo, was visible in gray on the tail. Otherwise the entire plane was blue-white, to blend in with the sky.
“OK, lets start with the cockpit and then work around the plane in a clockwise direction. Flip on the master battery switch and see if we have powe
r.”
Hermandez found the switch and flipped it to the red side. Several of the instruments came to life, and a low beeping tone could be heard from one. “That’s the audio instrumentation” said John. “I’ll explain how it works in the air. Let’s check out the IR communications before we go further. That’s the “com” switch right in front of the joystick.
The Lieutenant switched that switch to red. John adjusted a small knob on the front panel that rotated an antenna mounted above the wings so that it pointed towards the next plane down the line. John pressed the microphone button on the top of the rear joystick and spoke in the mike. “Alpha Romeo com. check.” Across the hanger floor another pair of pilots waved and then one keyed their microphone. “Alpha Romeo loud and clear. Confirm our signal, Juliet Bravo.” John responded “Juliet Bravo loud and clear, out.”
“The good part about these IR communication units is that the bad guys can’t hear us. The bad part is that the good guys can only hear us if we point the antenna at them and are in clear air. It takes some practice to work as a team and keep communicating, but practice is what you are here for.”
John and Lieutenant Hermandez checked every exposed system on the plane. John had never found a serious flaw in a plane that JP was maintaining, but since his life depended on everything working, he checked everything himself. He’d watched a young pilot crash on takeoff because one control rod had not been fully connected. Airplanes were not forgiving – you seldom got a second chance.
“Lets take a peek topside before we launch” suggested John. They had to climb five flights of stairs to get to the meteorological office, which had windows on all sides and a splendid view. Barbara spotted him and gave him a wink, but went about her business. “See those Turkey Vultures circling to the North? Those are great soaring birds. I like to launch about 45 minutes after they stay up, as they are better pilots than you or I will ever be. Of course, they fly for a living…”
Hermandez gave a slight smile. He’s relaxing a bit, thought John. John looked back out the window at the nearest peaks. “See those cumulous clouds forming over the high ground? Those are the tops of strong updrafts. It is going to be a great day. Let’s get back down and get launched.”
When the got back to the hanger deck the first flights were already launching. John explained the launch system. “We have a different system here than you had in flight school. The launch cables are attached to cement weights that fall down a mineshaft. The shaft is over a mile deep, so we can use some long cables. I usually get about 1200 feet of altitude from the launch if the wind is from the North. We have enough weights so that all the planes can launch without lifting the weights. The wind turbines on the ridge generate the energy to lift the weights, but it takes hours even on a windy day. On calm days they have to be winched up by hand – back breaking work.”
Both pilots put on their parachutes, strapped themselves into their seats, and closed the canopy. “Go through the pre-takeoff check list Lieutenant. You will be doing on the flying unless I want to show you something, so assume that you are pilot in command unless I say otherwise.”
The ground crew pushed them out to the launch point and attached a free cable to their release hook. Hermandez pointed the antenna towards the control shack at the far end of the takeoff area. “Alpha Romeo ready for launch.” Two seconds later the plane lunged forward. Hermandez started easing back on the stick and they shot upward at a 45-degree angle to the ground.
“I told you the stick was sensitive.” said John. “Nose over at about 1000 feet and release the minute you feel downward pressure on the nose. The Lieutenant did as he was told. “1100 feet is not bad at all for a first try Lieutenant. Now take us over to the foothills at our 2 o’clock position and find us some lift.”
Another plane was circling in lift in front of them. “There is almost no wind, so the updraft he’s in should be nearly vertical. Fly under him and see what we can find.” Hermandez adjusted course slightly to the right and continued the slow gliding decent. They were down to 900 feet before they felt the first bumps. Hermandez started to turn left before John stopped him. “Don’t turn too fast. We don’t know where the center of the lift is. Fly in a bit and see if you can find the core of the updraft.”
One of the instruments started making a beeping sound as the felt some stronger bumps. “JP has wired the rate of climb indicator to a speaker. That way you can hear when we are going up so you don’t need to look at the instruments. Start a turn when you feel the lift is starting to fall off, and then see if you can center our circle so that we are going up all the way around the turn.”
Hermandez executed a left turn, and the beeping noise immediately stopped. “Guess it was to the right, huh?” commented John. “No problem. You can correct when you get around this turn. Keep your airspeed at 45 knots.” Hermandez was making a number of jerky movements as he controlled the sensitive aircraft, but John kept quiet. One lesson at a time…
As the completed half a circle the beeping started again. They were climbing. John could see the other aircraft well above them, clearly out-climbing them, but at least they were going up. “You just gained 200 feet Lieutenant. Keep it up.”
Through a series of jerky corrections Hermandez was able to get roughly into the center of the lift and stay there. They rose just over 2000 feet before the beeping became intermittent. The other aircraft was long gone. “That’s probably all the altitude we are going to get out of this thermal. Take us over to the high ground north of here and see if you can find some more lift.”
They started another smooth glide towards the mountain range. They had been well below the ridgeline when they left the first updraft, and were descending further as they moved further away from Outpost Base. John could see the Lieutenant’s head swivel to look back at the landing area that was rapidly moving away. “This plane will glide eight miles for every 1000 feet of altitude we lose in still air, so we can go a long way before we have to worry about not getting back to the strip. There is another field over to our right that you could land in if you got in trouble. We’re completely safe. Relax.”
They started feeling some minor bumps, but no beeping sounds. The slope of the mountain range was looming larger in the canopy. Hermandez started a gentle bank away from the mountain until John stopped him. “Why are you turning?”
The Lieutenant shrugged and replied: “I don’t want to fly into the mountain. Aren’t we supposed to stay 1000 feet away from the nearest object?”
“That might be what the book says Lieutenant, but we aren’t reading right now, we’re flying. Let me take over the controls for a bit and demonstrate. My airplane.”
“Your airplane” echoed Hermandex.
The fighter seemed to become quiet the moment John’s hands were on the controls. The jerking motions Hermandez had been unconsciously feeding the controls had stopped. Their plane became part of the air mass.
John steered directly towards the spine in a ridge. The individual trees were clearly visible. The ridge was climbing underneath them and they were descending through the air, so the ground was coming up fast. Hermandez knew that John wasn’t going to fly them right into the mountain, but it sure looked like that is where they were headed. As the moved closer at 60 knots, individual pinecones were becoming visible on the trees. Then they felt a sold bump and the beeping started in earnest. John continued pointing the plane at the slope, but the updraft lifted the plane almost as fast as the rise in the slope. When they got within 70 feet of the ground John swung the ship around to the right in a graceful right circle. The beeping continued as they rose away from the ground, circling in the heart of the thermal.
John adjusted each turn to keep next to the slope. The instruments showed they were averaging over 500 feet per minute climb. As they neared the crest of this range John asked the Lieutenant if he would like the controls back. “Sure, but teach me how you fly so smoothly Sir.”
“The trick is to use small control movements, but
to hold them for longer. You are using big movements, and then having to correct when you go too far. That’s why the plane jerks around. All that jerking causes drag, which is why we were not climbing very fast. Try small movements, and holding them in until you get the correction you are looking for. Your airplane.”
“My airplane” said Hermandez. He was jerking again for a moment, and then stopped. The plane continued flying in a graceful right turn, and the beeping continued. Hermandez made a slight correction to get the speed down to 45 knots, and left it alone.
“Nice work Lieutenant” as they rose through 7000 feet. “I think you are going to be a pilot. Climb as high as you can in this thermal and then let’s get going North across the lake. We has a mission to accomplish.”
John could not see it, but there was a huge grin on Lieutenant Gabriel Hermandez’s face as he leveled out and headed North.
* * *
60 miles further north the two lead planes were just getting into position.
“Juliet Papa calling Charlie Zulu, do you copy?”
“Charlie Zulu copy. I’m under the Cu over Donkey Ridge at 8500 feet. What is your location?”
“Juliet Papa is two miles south of Show Mountain at 9,300 feet. Suggest we hold these positions and stay below the clouds. Any Gengon bomber have to cross the blue gap from the cloud street to this area and we should see them if we stay clear of cloud.”
“Roger that Juliet Papa. Will check in at 15-minute intervals. Charlie Zulu out.”
These two pilots had flow as a team for over six months. Juliet Papa (JP) was Joe Callanto’s plane, while Cindy Cho flew Charlie Zulu (CZ). In the air they referred to each other by their call signs. Each had over 1000 hours of logged flight time, most of it in combat conditions. They knew every aspect of their aircraft’s performance, and had each downed two enemy planes. The Major had put them on point today for a reason. They were damn good.
Heavier Than Air Page 3