“I couldn’t agree more. Do you have your man in place yet?” Durance asked.
“Not yet but it’s just a matter of time. I’m sure he will be soon.”
“I guess we're about ready. Keep me informed. Good day Admiral,” Durance said, hanging up the phone.
* * *
- OTIS AIR FORCE BASE –
Peter was just finishing up in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. He hurried to open the door.
“Can a girl get a decent meal around here?” Susan asked as he opened the door for her.
“I think that can be arranged,” he said showing her in.
“Nice place. Looks a lot like mine.”
“Somehow I thought it would. All of the housing for officers is the same. You know how the military mind works.”
“Indeed I do. My father was in the military for twenty years,” Susan told him.
“Really? I didn’t know that. I don’t see you as a military brat.”
“Oh I was. So what’s for dinner? I didn’t eat lunch so I could consume this culinary delight you’re fixing.”
“I hope you’re not too disappointed. Its hot dogs and French fries,” he lied.
“Great. Hard to find a good dog around these parts,” she said straight faced in case he wasn’t kidding.
“How about a glass of wine?” Peter asked.
“Sounds wonderful. Hot dogs and wine.”
“I have a bottle of Pinot Noir or a great Vouvray.”
“The Vouvray sounds interesting. Is it French?”
“You bet. Really easy to drink. It’s not too sweet or too dry, just right with almost anything.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
Peter opened the bottle and poured her a small amount to taste.
“Excellent. That’s very, very smooth,” she said, approvingly.
Peter filled her glass and poured one for himself.
“To a nice evening,” Peter said, holding out his glass to hers.
“To a nice relationship,” Susan added.
“Now, you sit here,” he said pulling out a chair for her, “and I’ll bring out the hot dogs. Do you want mustard or ketchup?”
“Sure. Whatever you have will be fine.”
“You know it’s hard to find a good wine that goes with hot dogs but this Vouvray seems to do the trick,” he said heading to the kitchen. He was gone for several minutes.
“Do you need any help?” Susan asked.
“No. Just relax. I’m on my way.”
Peter brought out two Caesar salads.
“With hot dogs?” Susan asked.
“You can have class with hot dog you know.”
They made small talk while they ate their salads. They were well into the bottle of wine by the time they finished. Peter collected their empty bowls and took them to the kitchen. He returned with two plates piled high with food.
“That smells and looks delicious. It doesn’t resemble any hot dogs I’ve ever seen,” she said.
“It’s actually cracked peppercorn fettuccine noodles, covered with grilled diced chicken and topped with Alfredo sauce.”
“You made this?”
“I did.”
“The Alfredo sauce as well?”
“Don’t be insulting, of course I made it.”
“I’m impressed,” she said taking a bite, “Wow. This is great. Dr. Ferris, I have to admit, you are full of surprises.”
“I have more,” he said grinning.
“Eat,” she said and started digging into the food.
“More wine?”
“I would love some,” Susan said, holding out her glass. They finished the meal and sat talking at the table for some time. He learned more about her past and how she had happened to end up at AccuTech and then became the head of the VLA program. He told her about his background and his relationship with Luke.
“Let’s adjourn to the front room, shall we?” Peter said.
“Sure. I’ll help you with the dishes first.”
“No. Really, it’s not a problem.”
“Sorry buster. I can’t just let them sit here. I’ll help you.”
They carried the dishes into the kitchen and washed them quickly while continuing to learn more about each other. When they were finished, they went into the front room.
“Susan, I need to talk to you about something. This may sound like I’m crazy but I swear it’s the truth.”
“Hey, we already determined that you were crazy earlier, so shoot. What’s on your mind?”
“Bear with me on this. It will take a little while to set up what’s going on,” Peter said and launched into the background of what he had been told about the transmissions from Titan and how the President had concocted a plan to try to locate the source of the transmissions.
Susan listened without interrupting. He could see that she had a thousand questions but she let him finish first.
“You do know that I was the one to bring this to the President don’t you?”
“They alluded to that but never actually came out and said it. I know that you were the one to discover the Titan connection to the Earth’s oceans.”
“And now they want us to go there and locate an unknown life form? Take an untested prototype submarine to who knows what depth and make contact with aliens that we know nothing about?”
“In a nutshell.”
“Do they want us to go to Titan and check it out as well?” she said.
“Probably. If they could find a way for us to get there,” Peter said.
“Why now? Why the big push all of a sudden?” she asked, “Who knows how long they have been here?”
“Maybe they have been doing this all along but we either didn’t want to believe, or were not advanced enough to make the connection. Ships and planes have been disappearing for a long, long time. You are partially to blame you know. You’re the one who figured it all out, the transmissions and all. Naturally they think we should go talk to them or whatever.”
“Oh sure, blame the girl” Susan said, “And now they want us to go out in the Chameleon and find these creatures or whatever they are and make contact.”
“That’s the plan.”
“We may be scientists but I don’t think we’re the right people. There must be many more qualified people than us to send.”
“How many real scientists do you know that have any on the job experience with aliens?”
“Granted. But still, I don’t know anything about this procedurally.”
“Neither do I, but we are there to see that the Chameleon works as designed.”
“Peter, I don’t know one thing about being on a submarine.”
“What? Do I look like Popeye to you? I’ve never been on a sub either. Just think of what this could mean. We could be the first humans to ever make contact with another life form.”
“It happens all the time. Don’t you read The Enquirer?”
“Silly me, I forgot.”
“I believe them. Would a reputable paper like that lie?”
“Susan, let me tell you the rest,” Peter said seriously, “The military intends to sequester anyone who won’t go along.”
“What do you mean, keep us here?”
“Basically. Anyone choosing not to go after being briefed will be kept at Otis Air Force base until the mission is completed.”
“They can’t do that. That’s illegal.”
“We’re not talking about legal here. I’ve been informed that under no circumstances will anyone who knows about the mission and refuses to go, be allowed to leave.”
“Fine. Don’t tell anyone. Who do they think they are?”
“Susan they need our help. Our planet could be in serious jeopardy.”
“They don’t know that for sure.”
“That’s the point. They have to find out and they need our help to do it. No one knows the systems but the few who either designed or installed them.”
“Why do they feel like they have to resort to bla
ckmail and threats? Can’t they just ask?”
“They are worried about this getting out. Once it hits the streets it could start a worldwide panic.”
“Bull. They never give people credit. They have been hiding things, in the so called interest of the nation, for years. It’s their own paranoia that’s the problem.”
“I think you’re probably right for the most part, but can we afford to take the chance?”
“I don’t know. It just seems so wrong. I hate it when I’m backed into a corner like this,” she said.
“I understand how you feel. I don’t like it either. But, I think the threat is real, Susan. We never looked for it before. I helped to get the first Pioneer probe pushed through. Its mission was to check out Titan.”
“What goes around comes around, as they say,” Susan said.
“Too true this time,” Peter agreed.
“Who do you intend to ask?”
“You, Luke, Dr. Morgan, Dr. Phillips, Okeefer and just a few others. I can’t see involving everyone. Marcus is going to select a couple of others to join us.”
“So we finish up, go out for sea trials and then take on the mystery quest. Is that about it?”
“Pretty much so, as I understand it.”
“You sure know how to show a girl a good time, Peter Ferris.”
“Shucks, it’s nothin'.”
They talked for the next two hours about the Chameleon and the scope of the mission as they understood it.
Susan decided that if her only choices were to go or be confined, she would rather go along, besides Peter would be there to protect her. She was sure of that. They said good night and Peter walked her to the door.
“Thanks for listening. It was great to spend time with you. I’ll be in Washington the next couple of days. I’ll call you when I get back.”
“That’s fine buster but you had better not just shake my hand tonight,” she warned pressing against him.
Peter kissed her deeply and she opened her mouth to meet his probing tongue. It was a long and passionate kiss.
“Wow,” Susan gasped as they parted at last, “That’s better than a handshake any day.”
“Glad to be of service. I’ll call you,” he said as he turned to leave.
“I’ll be waiting,” she said, and slipped into the night.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
- General Durance US Air Force-
(Earlier)
The three high ranking officers had a number of striking similarities. All of them had served with distinction in Vietnam while the US involvement was at its peak.
Young Lt. Durance had been assigned to duty onboard the B-52 Stratofortress bomber based in Guam. It was Christmas Day, 1972, and the huge B-52 was loaded down with eighty-four, 500 pound bombs in the internal bay and twelve more ‘ghosted’ under each wing in external racks. While the B-52 carried a devastating amount of explosives, it had very little in the way of built-in protection.
The four M3,.50-caliber machine guns located in the tail section offered some deterrent but its best defense was the ability to drop its payload from in excess of 35,000 feet. Lt. Durance was in the right seat of the massive, 156 foot long, killing machine. His mentor and best friend, Captain John ‘Hap’ Henderson was the pilot. They had become friends from the first day they met.
‘Hap’ was one of the best the Air Force had to offer and it was apparent to everyone who came into contact with him that he was destined for greatness in his career. Henderson was on his third tour in Guam and had Lt. William ‘Wild Bill’ Durance assigned to his command. He had taken an immediate liking to the young Lieutenant.
This was their nineteenth mission together and they had learned to communicate almost without speaking. Each was confident in other’s abilities. They went through the routine pre-flight check and eased out onto the taxi runway. They were number three for takeoff in the massive strike force that was to eventually reach a peak number of 51 aircraft taking part in the mission to bomb Hanoi. The long flight from Guam was grueling and boring.
“Wake up Wild Bill,” Hap said from the pilot's seat.
“I’m awake. I was just checking my eye lids for holes.”
“Right. We will be coming up on the glide path soon. Navigation reports that we will start our final turn in two minutes.”
“All gauges read normal except for the number four EGT,” he reported without having to be asked.
“It always reads high. You would think they could figure out a simple thing like that by now,” Hap said disgustedly.
“Hey. I’m just glad they have them all up and running after that last mission,” Durance responded.
“I guess you’re right.”
“Come to 111 degrees,” came over the headset.
“Roger. 111 degrees,” Hap repeated.
“Here we go,” Wild Bill said to no one in particular.
“Starting final. Going tactical....now.”
“Thirty seconds to initial target,” came over the headset.
“Roger.”
“Looking good. On the beam. Keep it steady. Fifteen seconds.”
“Hang on. We should start to get triple A any second.”
Just as he finished the sentence a large flash of light followed by the sonic boom, appeared between them and the nearest plane. The percussion rocked the plane.
“Nice call,” Durance said.
“Bomb doors open. Release in ten seconds.”
Red and white flashes were now filling the sky as they inched closer to Hanoi. Suddenly one of the B-52’s erupted in a huge ball of flame as a SAM missile came streaking up from the ground and hit the left wing fuel tank. No slow roll, just a huge chunk of steel and human remains plummeted to the earth. They continued on in formation.
“Five...four...three...two...one. Bombs away,” the bombardier said, releasing the deadly cargo onto the city below.
“SAM up,” came a message over the headset.
“I count six,” came another voice.
“Make it eight,” chimed in another.
“Ten more seconds,” the bombardier said in a calm voice. Anti-aircraft fragments were filling the air at such a rate it seemed impossible that they could fly through all the debris. Another B-52 exploded as a SAM missile slammed into the fuselage. The wings collapsed straight up and the nose dropped down toward the waiting ground. No one was going to get out of that plane alive.
“Okay Captain, you can get us out of here. Turn left to 210 degrees.”
“210 degrees,” Durance answered as the big, slow moving B-52 started its turn. An anti-aircraft shell exploded just below the plane sending hot metal through the radar bay. A chunk penetrated the flight deck and a piece sliced its way through the foot and leg of Captain Henderson.
“Ahhh. I’m hit. I’m hit,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Where? How bad?” Durance asked.
“Foot. Leg. I can’t tell how bad. It hurts like hell.”
“I have control Captain,” Durance said trying to assess the damage to the plane.
“Oh man. Oh man. My left foot is gone. It’s cut off. I think most of my leg is missing too,” Hap moaned.
“Hang in there. Can you get a tourniquet around your leg?”
“I’m trying,” he said, wrapping a belt around his leg. He was covered in blood.
“Report. How is everyone back there,” Durance asked the crew over the headset.
Just then a second shell exploded near the right side inner wing flap. A huge section tore off and the air craft shook and started to slip down and to the right. Durance fought with the controls and was able to correct the angle of descent. The bomb rack just in front of the damaged flap tore loose and was flopping around in the wind's icy current. It slammed into the number four engine cover before breaking off and falling away.
“Were losing number four,” he said as calmly as he could to Hap”.
The Captain was trying to maintain consciousness but was losing blood at a heavy
rate. Durance had his hands full trying to keep the giant ship airborne.
“I don’t think I can hold it together much longer,” he said, but the Captain didn’t acknowledge him.
“Crew. This is the co-pilot. Get ready to bail out. I’m going to keep us up for as long as I can but I don’t think we can make it all the way back. Just be ready when I say ‘go’”. They were down to 15,000 feet and losing altitude. He was doing everything he could to keep the plane in the air. Every mile further from Hanoi meant a better chance for survival.
“Damn. We’re losing number three,” he muttered to himself. He shut down the fuel flow to the engine.
“How are we doing?” Hap asked with a thick voice.
“Just hanging in there. How are you doing?”
“Not good. My leg is cold. I’m cold.”
“Loosen the tourniquet every once in a while,” Wild Bill told him.
The plane continued to buck and shudder as he fought to keep it up in the air but it was apparent that they were going to have to bail out very soon.
“Where are we?”
“As near as I can tell we just passed over Haiphong Harbor. That looks like it just off to the left,” he told Hap.
“We will never make it this way. Head out over the ocean. Maybe we can find a Navy ship in the area.”
“Not this far North of the DMZ.”
“It’s our best chance. How is the crew doing?”
“Everyone seems okay.”
“SAM coming up,” came an excited voice from the tail gunner.
“I can’t do much about it,” he said, turning further out to sea. The craft started to slip down in altitude almost immediately. He was trying to increase the angle of attack of the incoming missile. The missile slammed into the back of the aircraft and exploded. The rear section twisted and tore off. The nose started down and the fuselage was beginning to roll.
“Bail out. Bail out,” Durance screamed into the intercom.
“Go. I’ll try to hold it as long as I can,” Hap said to Durance.
“No way. We will go together.”
“Get out. That’s an order. I couldn’t make it anyway. Even if I did get out I would be dead before I hit the ground. Now get your butt out of here while you can.”
THE BRINK - OPERATION DEEP FLIGHT Page 23