A Mig screamed by in front of him and he quickly switched to one of the AIM-19 missiles. He intended to get off at least one last shot before he went out. He immediately got a lock and fired. He looked back out of the canopy and saw the orange glow of the homing SAM. It was going to get him and he knew it.
“Bail out. Bail out,” came over his headset. A shudder ran through the aircraft and a deafening roar followed. The cockpit filled with smoke and he could feel the F-4 start to pitch over. He released the canopy and pulled the ejection lever. He could feel his stomach being forced through his feet as the seat catapulted him out of the aircraft. His chute deployed and he started the long drift down toward the ocean waves.
Everything seemed so peaceful and surrealistic. Within 500 feet of the ocean he caught sight of another MiG-21 Fishbed going down in a burst of smoke and flames. Suddenly bullets ripped by his ear. One of the Migs had seen his chute deploy and was making a strafing run at him as he descended. The Mig screamed past and started to climb and turn. He could see the plane leveling out and starting to make a return pass. He estimated the distance to the water was still close to 100 feet. The plane was starting its run. 75 feet to go. The Mig was looming larger and larger. The pilot was opening fire again. He could see the tracers heading towards him. He released the belts and plummeted toward the ocean just as the Mig’s bullets tore into the chute. He hit the water hard and sucked in saltwater.
The Mig flew off and rejoined the air battle raging overhead. His shoulder felt like it was dislocated but other than that he seemed fine. He inflated his vest and checked for further damage. His wingman had seen him get hit but he was embroiled in his own battle for survival. He did call in his position just before the Atoll missile ripped into his plane.
Zoren floated in the calm seas, watching the war spectacle being played out high overhead. He could see different aircraft being hit from time to time but the distance to the action was widening as the bombers continued to the north. He could do nothing but wait. Finally he could see no evidence of the battle that must still be going on. By this time, he estimated, they were over Haiphong Harbor and were releasing their bombs. He had been in the water for over an hour when he heard the high pitched scream of a jet coming low over the water. He could see smoke coming out of the back of the plane. He waited anxiously, trying to see if it was friendly. It was getting lower by the second. The engines cut out and the plane started to glide down. It was another F-4B and it was in serious trouble.
The pilot pitched the nose up just as the fuselage touched the water. A huge spray of water washed over the plane. It sat there floating, not fifty yards from where he was. He began to swim over to the slowly sinking Phantom. The cockpit canopy was still on the plane but partially open. He reached the wing and climbed on to it. He forced open the canopy and unbuckled the unconscious pilot. There was a great deal of blood on his uniform. He struggled to get the pilot out of the plane but his dislocated shoulder was hindering the process. The plane was starting to sink faster and he was standing up to his waist in water by the time he finally pulled the pilot out. He inflated the man’s life vest and started swimming away from the sinking aircraft while pulling the pilot along.
Once they were far enough away he checked the pilot and found that he had taken a round to the shoulder. He had lost a lot of blood but he was still alive. He applied a compression bandage to the wound as best as he could while bobbing around in the water. They floated in the calm waters for hours before he heard noise coming from the north. A fleet of patrol boats were headed in his direction. They were VC patrol boats and they were closing fast. It would only be a matter of time before they spotted them floating in the water. Another sound caught his ear as well. This time it came from the south. There was no mistake about it being an American plane. The HU-16 Albatross had zeroed in on the homing beacon built into the life jackets. The Albatross pilot spotted the orange dye that Zoren had released and landed the plane. They were aboard in short order and just as quickly airborne again. The VC patrol boats were less than a mile away when they took off.
“You’re going to be fine,” the corpsman told him after checking him over. “Your co-pilot, Davis, isn’t doing as well. He has lost a lot of blood. If we get him back in time I think he will make it though.”
“He isn’t my co-pilot. He was in another plane that crashed near where I was floating. I swam over and pulled him out. He was in bad shape,” he told the corpsman.
“Man. That is one lucky dude,” the corpsman concluded.
Lt. Zoren was promoted to Captain and awarded both the Distinguished Flying Cross and the Navy Cross for risking his life to save Lt. Davis, son of Rear Admiral Arnold Davis. Zoren’s career took an immediate leap forward.
* * *
- Present Time -
Now, what seemed like a lifetime later, the three warriors were getting ready to go into battle once again. All three were convinced that the only way for America to remain strong and to control her own destiny was to have men of action in control of the military. Civilians that did not deserve the right to be called the Commander-in-Chief might be tolerated in times of peace, but in times of war, it had to be a military man. They had all agreed to that years ago. Now they felt they were at war. This time with an unknown force and no civilian was going to interfere. They were unwilling to risk the fate of America with an unqualified Commander-in-Chief.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
- The White House -
A long black limo pulled up to the waiting Lear jet as Peter was descending the stairs. The flight had been routine, almost dull after the wild flights with Mad Dog in the F-14. The driver opened the door for him and he climbed into the back, only to find Admiral Marcus already seated with a drink in his hand.
“I didn’t expect to see you so soon. I figured we would meet at the White House.”
“I thought it best if I met with you beforehand and brought you up to speed before the meeting,” Marcus said.
“We must be in for a rough day if you’re drinking so early.”
“Slim Fast. My wife is always on me to watch my weight. Want one? I sure don’t mind sharing.”
“Gee thanks. I would enjoy a Diet Coke if they have one in here.”
“Can do,” Marcus said taking a cold can from the refrigerator and handing it to Peter.
“So, what’s going on that I need to know about?”
“We have located one source of the transmissions in the Atlantic and one in the Pacific. When I say located, I mean we have come closer to getting a fix than ever before.”
“How close is close?”
“Several hundred square miles in the Atlantic and less than that in the Pacific. It’s the best we have done so far. The Air Force and Admiral Zoren have cooked up a scheme and they want to send a flotilla of ships and planes to those two areas and see if they can locate the source and force it to the surface,” the Marcus informed him.
“Force?”
“As in dropping enough bombs in the area to cause a reaction.”
“Brilliant. It might cause a reaction all right. Whoever or whatever is down there may just come to the surface and kick our butts. Are they that stupid or just crazy?”
“A little of both. They are scared too. A dangerous mixture. They think they can handle anything.”
“The point is they need to know the lay of the land. Without that, they are just shouting at the wind. So, what are we up against?” Peter asked.
“Admiral Zoren does not like me much, to put it mildly. Doesn’t like how I got to the rank I hold in such a short time. We have clashed in the past several times. Not having the Chameleon under his control is just the latest in a long list of things he doesn’t like. Both he and General Durance think that the President is a worm. They love to badger him because they think he can’t or won’t make the hard decisions. He has no military background so they have all the more reason to dislike him. They want to see a strong military figure leading this country. Most o
f all they want to have a greater say in military policy. They view this current situation as a classical situation where the military should be calling the shots. To them, this about national security and they should be in charge of national security. Not some weak willed President.”
“Gee. Anything else they don’t like? I do agree with them on one point. This could well be a national security problem, especially if they go off halfcocked and start a war with an unknown race of beings. I would think that they would want us to be extremely cautious and gather as much information as we can, rather than being the aggressor.”
“You see, that's what’s wrong with you Peter. You’re using common sense and logic. Believe me, they are using neither. All they see is the disappearance of US vessels. To them it is reduced to a simple act of war. We have been attacked, so we need to attack back. To them it’s not all that complicated,” Marcus said.
“They don’t know it was intended as an act of war. How in the world would anyone know what an undiscovered alien race is thinking? To them, we could be nothing more than bugs to be examined. Have they given any thought as to the type of weapons these beings could be capable of producing? The fact that they can get here to earth and live under the oceans says something about their level of development versus ours. I would want to know for sure that they were ninety pound weaklings before I tossed sand in their faces, if they have faces,” Peter replied.
“Peter, I understand what you’re saying. I agree with all of that but I do think that something has to be done. We can’t have these creatures, or whatever they are, coming to this planet and taking people just to see what makes us tick. We’re not here for their experimentation.”
“Hum. I wonder what a butterfly thinks when it’s caught and pinned to a board?”
“That’s not the same thing. We have intelligence. We’re civilized.”
“Did you ever stop to think that our perception of intelligence could be drastically wrong? As for civilized. I don’t’ even want to touch on that. To them we could be not much higher on the intelligence curve than that butterfly we capture.”
“Look. We can debate mankind all we want but the current problem is just a few blocks away,” the Admiral said, looking out the window. “We must convince the President not to let the General and Admiral have their way until we have gathered all the information possible. We need to convince him to let us attempt to make contact first, and then we can evaluate our options.”
“I would think he understands that already,” Peter said.
“He’s just human. He puts his pants on the same way we do, one leg at a time. People are pulling at him from all directions. I’m not sure I would know what to do in his place.”
“I guess you’re right,” Peter conceded, “I’m sure the others have been badgering him to take some sort of action.”
“You can count on it. Not to mention the thousand and one other national level problems he has to deal with. That’s one tough job.”
They arrived at the White House and after clearing security were immediately taken to a large conference room. They had just been seated when the door opened.
“The President of the United States,” was announced by a Marine guard. They all stood as the President entered. He waved and shook hands with several men in the room before being seated.
“Please sit. We have a lot to do.”
Admiral Marcus said, “Mr. President, I have Doctor Ferris with me.”
“Yes I can see that. Thank you for joining us on such short notice doctor.”
“It’s an honor to be invited here,” Peter said shaking his hand.
“You may not think so by the end of the meeting, I’m afraid,” the President shot back.
Peter wasn’t sure if that was meant as a joke or not.
“Now, if we could get started. We have a lot to do today. Let me start by saying I would like for this to be as frank as possible. I have an open mind to any suggestion. However, I must warn you that I will not tolerate petty bickering. If it comes to that, I will immediately halt the proceedings. Factual or relevant statements are the order of the day. If we resort to talking down or personal attacks the meeting is over and I will formulate my own plan of action. Now that that disclaimer is out of the way, I would like to start with you General Durance. Is your opinion that a first strike posture is necessary, unchanged?”
“Affirmative sir. We have a much better fix on two of the locations now. We have narrowed the Atlantic contact down to the Mid-Atlantic ridge, someplace around the Kane Fracture zone. The North Pacific contact is located in the Sikoku Basin, just off the Philippines. We feel that by concentrating our efforts in one of those two areas we could get a fairly good fix.”
“How would you accomplish that, General?”
“In a joint effort with the Navy we would send out a fleet of ships and surveillance air craft. Using sonar and ROV’s we could blanket the area. Then all we would have to do is get their attention.”
“How would you go about getting their attention?” the President asked.
“We could send a low yield nuclear device to the approximated depth and detonate it.”
“Without warning?”
“Well sir, what warning did they give us before they took our ships and planes? I’m not trying to be flippant but what goes around, comes around. If they want to know more about us why don’t they just come to us?”
“I understand your feelings. Wouldn’t an explosion near them cause a considerable amount of damage to the inhabitants? What if it really made them angry and they decided to retaliate?”
“Admiral Zoren and I have talked extensively about this. We have worked up several military exercise models and we are confident that we can handle anything they might throw at us,” the General answered.
“Admiral Zoren?”
“I totally agree. We have looked at all the known facts and with a concentrated force of combined Naval and Air Force personnel we feel we are ready to take on any aggressor.”
“And if you don’t have all the facts? What would keep them from wiping us off the face of the earth?” the President wanted to know.
The debate went on for hours with input from each branch of service represented. Each one added to the general confusion. The President was trying to be fair and give everyone a voice before he made up his mind. Every time it came close to getting out of control he would hold up his hand and let them know they were walking on dangerous ground. He was determined to maintain control of the meeting. It was not an easy thing to do with the Army, Air Force, and Navy all calling for a confrontation.
“Mr. President. We simply can’t allow any more of our ships and planes to disappear. Those are our American fighting men and women we’re talking about. We can’t just shrug our shoulders and tell them that it goes with the job. It’s hard enough to get qualified personnel today. We have to do something and soon. Wringing our hands and hoping it will just go away isn’t going to work. We need to show them that we are a race that will not submit to their whims,” General Durance said.
“I understand where you’re coming from, really I do General. And the rest of you as well. Honestly, I can’t say that I like it one bit better than you do. I just want to make darn sure that we have our butts well covered before we commit to aggression.”
“Don’t think of it as aggression. We are defending ourselves,” Admiral Zoren suggested.
“Dr. Ferris. You have been listening intently but haven’t said much. I would like to know your thoughts on all of this,” the President said, turning to Peter.
“Mr. President. Gentlemen. You are all much more aware of the situation than I am. I only know what I’ve been told and for reasons of national security that’s the way it should be. But I must say, after listening to all of you, I feel you are all overlooking a significant fact. So far, as I understand it, you have only been able to approximate the location of two transmission sites. I understand that you believe there are at least four in
total. What I am getting at is that even if you attacked one of the sites you still have the unknown factor of what the other three would do. Your element of surprise, if you ever had any, would go right out the window. No country can fight a four front war and that seems like what you’re risking.”
“We don’t know that they wouldn’t just high tail it out of here,” interrupted Admiral Zoren.
“And you don’t know that they would. Maybe even more significant, is the location of the transmission sites. I would like to talk a little about them. We know they are in all four major ocean areas. The Mid-Atlantic, Southern Atlantic, Northern Pacific and Southern Pacific. I doubt if that’s by coincidence. You mentioned the Sikoku Basin. I happen to know quite a bit about that area. The Kuril Trench, one of the deepest in the world, and the Mariana Trench almost meet in the Sikoku Basin. Just to the west of the two trenches is the Northwest Pacific Basin, an area riddled with fracture zones where the continental plates start to overlap. It is a very deep and unstable area.”
“So? What does that have to do with anything?” General Durance challenged.
“The South Pacific has the Kermadec Trench and the Tonga Trench all located, more or less, near the Central Pacific Basin. This is another highly unstable area. Now over on the other side, in the Atlantic, you have located them near the Kane Fracture Zone. If I’m not mistaken, there is a whole chain of fracture zones interlinked running the entire length of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. There are something like twenty or so fracture zones. They extend all the way down to the Argentine Abyss, not far from the Falkland Islands. If you start dropping nuclear devices that explode at great depth the percussion shock could cause a series of earthquakes and tremors like we have never experienced before. The basalt is darned thin in many of those places. The eclogite layer is very thin as well. Just below that is molten lava. You rupture the crust in that area and all the soldiers in the world won’t be able to put humpty dumpty back together again,” Peter told them.
THE BRINK - OPERATION DEEP FLIGHT Page 25