FATAL eMPULSE

by Mark Young

The two men sat in silence.

  Jack’s eyes wandered to the other screen where the red blinking dots represented his people. Most of markers centered on the aircraft, the men, the scientist’s laptop, and the aircraft. And across the grid, he still saw two blinking dots representing Alena and Shakeela. At least they’re safe. A contingency plan had been created to pick them up in the event Gerrit and the others died.

  It looked like they would have to go to the alternate plan. He watched the red dots at the farmhouse. He could no longer watch the airport. Once those jets arrived, markers coming from Gerrit and the men would go dark. Their lights would be put out forever.

  Alena got a text off to Jack just as she saw the man closest to the main road rise and start zigzagging in their direction. Here they come! She gripped her weapon, waiting. She would take out the first guy, then dash to the rear of the farmhouse, anticipating that the others would be coming.

  If any of them got to the building, it would be over. Only one attacker had to get close enough to hurl a grenade to finish them off. Once the attackers got that close, she’d raced back to Shakeela and try to protect her until the end.

  The first man reached the open area between the house and where the orchard began. He hesitated for a moment and then ran toward the house. She broke the glass and fired, her first burst spinning him around as he fell. The man did not move. Alena did not wait to see if he was dead.

  Gripping her rifle, she dashed across the house to the far wall. The man she saw hiding on that side of the building had already made it across the open area. He was just reaching the farmhouse when Alena fired again. She shot right through the glass, catching the man in the chest. He faltered and then kept running toward her, firing as he ran.

  Body armor!

  She returned fire, aiming for his legs, and when he stumbled again, she aimed for his head. The man pitched forward, his body falling through the window. Not waiting, she scrambled to another room and saw she was too late. A gunman had just reached the house and ducked out of sight. He must be working his way toward the door. She calculated where the man might be at that exact moment.

  Seeing a shadow on the ground outside, Alena fired through the wall where the gunman ought to be standing. The man rushed past a window. She’d missed. Now she saw two shadows, two men running together. Alena fired once more through the wall in a burst that used up her magazine. As she reloaded, she heard the front door kicked open.

  Dashing toward the front room, Alena burst into the room only to see that she had missed whoever had kicked in the door. One of the men lay dead. One gunman got inside.

  Shakeela!

  Angry that she let these killers get this close, she charged toward the bedroom where Shakeela lay beneath the mattress. Just as she reached the room, she heard a shot ring out. Bursting into the room, Alena prepared to fire.

  The intruder lay dead.

  Emerging from the mattress, Shakeela tried to rise, pistol in hand.

  Alena glanced around the room. No more intruders for the moment. “Are you all right?”

  Shakeela nodded and lay back exhausted.

  Whirling around, Alena ran from room to room, looking for more attackers. When she got to the front door, she glanced out where she first spotted one of the attackers and saw an Army lorry roll up with a number of soldiers in the bed.

  She took a position near the window and made sure her extra ammunition was in arm’s reach. The soldiers leaped from the truck and grouped together, looking toward the house. They seemed to be uncertain as to what to do. They began to spread out and walk toward the orchard.

  Gripping her rifle, Alana got ready for the next attack. Based on the number of soldiers, she knew the next assault would overwhelm them. She would just do her best until she could no longer fight.

  Jack sat watching the screen. Perlman had already started a countdown when it would be the point of no return. At that point there would not be enough time for the pilots to shift game plans. They would be committed. There was two minutes left.

  His cell phone vibrated, alerting him to an incoming text message. He thought of ignoring it, given the circumstances, but decided to take a quick look. It was from Alena. He activated the message and read what she wrote.

  We are under attack. Send help ASAP.

  Jack glanced up at the screen and saw that the two bleeps belonging to Alena and Shakeela were still active. That didn’t mean they were alive, but it did mean that they were still in the farmhouse.

  He tapped Perlman on the shoulder. “Just got a message from Alena, she—”

  Perlman lurched forward. A phone at his console was ringing. “Just a minute, Jack.” He snatched it up. “Perlman here.”

  Perlman nodded, his jaw tightening. “Got it.” He slammed the phone down and yelled to the Air Force officers directing the raid. “Go to primary plan. Now!”

  Perlman turned to Jack. “Max got the message through. Now, let’s see if there was enough time.”

  Jack sprang out of his chair. He dashed to the where those communications sat directing traffic. “Can you patch me through to the Marine unit coming in on our choppers?”

  One of the men nodded, punched in a few frequency numbers, and handed Jack a headset.

  He jammed the headphones on and heard a series of squelches before a voice came over the air, identifying himself as the lead pilot for the extraction team.

  Jack identified himself. “Listen careful. Split your group into two. You have a secondary target—a farmhouse. You were given the coordinates. Head for that location with some of the gunships. We have two on the ground under fire. They need our help.”

  “Roger that, sir. We’ll commence that operation immediately.”

  “Thanks.” Jack pulled the headset off as he watched a small group of blips on the screen—choppers and gunships tailing the jets—veer off as they crossed into Syrian airspace. The lead aircraft had initiated an electronic pulse, blinding Syria’s air-defense systems. At least the Marine helicopters—as well as the rest of the Israeli aircraft—would not have to tangle with any Syrian jets. The enemy was blind to anything flying. Now, Jack and the others only had to worry about those on the ground. The best air-defense attack in the world could not stop a bullet on the ground.

  Jack and Perlman watched the screen that signaled where Gerrit and the others were fighting. Jack found himself holding his breath. In the next sixty seconds, the red dots at the airport would disappear from the screen. After that all communications would be cut off until Gerrit and the others on the ground hooked up with Israeli and American forces.

  Dead or alive! Only time would tell.

  Chapter 69

  March 18

  Damascus, Syria

  Gerrit tried to hold them off. He must buy Max and the others time to take care of business.

  Gunmen came leapfrogging their way until they reached the smoldering truck Gerrit and the others left behind. A fire had not broken out yet, but he could see smoke coming from the truck’s undercarriage. And where there was smoke…

  Gerrit reached into his vest pocket and withdrew a hand grenade. He was about to spring the pin when Max yelled out, “I got the message through. We will have to wait until the jets arrive to see if they got the message.”

  Gerrit motioned to one of the other men. “Lay down suppression fire for me.” He held up a grenade. The man nodded. Gerrit sprang the pin and yelled, “Go.”

  The man began firing, and the attackers drew back behind the truck. Gerrit stepped through the doorway and hurled the grenade toward the truck. It hit the ground and bounced underneath. A few seconds later, he heard the explosion and saw a ball of fire envelop the truck and car. Men screamed, running away from the wreckage, their clothes on fire.

  A second later he heard the explosion he hoped to hear—the one they were waiting for in the sky. He saw a jet that must have released the first of several HPM bombs screaming overhead. Others screamed past as other explosions shook the ground. Gerrit
grabbed his cell phone and looked at the screen. Blank.

  “Max, check your cell phone,” Gerrit yelled back. “Is it dead?”

  Max glanced at his phone and then looked up at Gerrit, grinning. “No life showing.”

  Gerrit grabbed his satchel and ran toward Max. “Get your guys together and make a sweep outside. I think most of the soldiers—those who aren’t barbecued—are probably backpedaling big-time.”

  “Back peddling?” Max looked puzzled.

  Gerrit glanced outside. “They are moving back because they are not sure what just happened. And they can’t call anyone. That’s the beauty of this operation.”

  “Everything is toast?” Max asked, looking toward the main international airport. “No one can call, text, drive, or do anything that has anything to do with electronics. Those bombs you just heard wiped out everything for miles around.”

  “Fantastic,” Gerrit said. “Now clear out. Let me go to work.”

  “How long do you need?”

  “Just a couple minutes, but you guys need to be clear of the plane.”

  “Got it.” Max motioned his men to head out. Max grabbed Scott Henderson by the collar and dragged him outside.

  Gerrit waited until they had reached ground level and began to spread out a safe distance from the aircraft. He heard in the distance the welcoming beats of helicopters churning the air on their way. He knew they were friendlies. The enemy’s aircraft at this airport would be grounded for some time.

  Once Max and the others were at a safe distance, Gerrit ran to the center of the plane until he reached the system that had cost so many lives. Even though this system was inoperative, there were enough parts here, added to the part that Henderson said was missing, to make a functional system. He wanted to make sure the system was completely destroyed.

  He pulled out his remaining C4 charges, set them to blow in a few minutes and then ran for the exit. Once outside, he headed toward Max and the others. They had encountered a spattering of gunfire, but they quickly cleared out the threat, using the vehicles the Syrian Army left behind as cover.

  Gerrit reached Max’s position and yelled out, “Take cover.” They just swung around to the side of the truck opposite the plane when the explosives ignited, engulfing the aircraft in a massive ball of fire.

  Two UH-60 Black Hawk helicopters loomed into view and several gunships hovered above, looking for prey. Gerrit threw out a flare to mark their position and waited for the pilots to land. The gunships spread out and searched for any enemy fire as Gerrit and the others clambered aboard. In minutes they took off.

  One of the helicopter crew members tapped him on the shoulder. “Sir, are you Gerrit O’Rourke?”

  He nodded, and the crewman handed him a radio. “Colonel Jack Thompson needs to contact you immediately.”

  Taking the phone, he put it to his ear and covered his other ear to drown out the noise. “Sir, Gerrit here.”

  “Glad you and the others are safe. I’m going to make this quick. We sent part of our aircraft toward the farmhouse. Your people on the ground are taking incoming.”

  Gerrit bit his lip, waiting. “Can you get me in touch with the lead pilot?”

  One of the crewmen handed him a headset. Before putting it on, Gerrit asked, “How far away are we from the other choppers?”

  “Just a minute or two,” the pilot responded.

  “Start in that direction and let’s hook up with the others.”

  The pilot nodded.

  Putting the headset on, he reached the lead pilot heading for the farmhouse. “We will be there in just a minute. Let them know we will be coming in right on their tail.”

  The chopper banked toward the farmhouse ten miles away. He hoped they’d get there in time. After all this, to lose Alena and Shakeela seemed wickedly twisted. He quickly passed on the information to Max and the pilots.

  The others grabbed their weapons to make sure they could move out as soon as the chopper touched down. Gerrit knew it was useless to check to see if their markers were still on the screen. Everything for miles around the airport went dark—including the farmhouse and his laptop. Everything—toast.

  The platoon leader tapped Gerrit on the shoulder. “Sir, Colonel Thompson already sent us the layout. We have a game plan once we touch down. You want to follow us in?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it, Marine. Let’s make sure we come in from the side farthest from the road and get into the trees as fast as possible. We’ll need cover from above.”

  “Roger that.”

  Gerrit reached out and grasped his shoulder. “Thank your men for me, will you?”

  “You bet, sir. See you on the ground.”

  Gerrit nodded and the platoon leader returned to his men.

  Ahead, he saw the roof of the farmhouse pushing above the orchard. From this distance, it was hard to see where the threat might be, although he saw several military transports parked just off the main roadway. They must have disembarked from there and walked in through the orchard.

  If the soldiers made it to the farmhouse, the women could not survive. Just too many guns.

  Max leaned over. “Let’s have the choppers land beyond the orchard, away from the road and the enemy military transports.”

  Gerrit nodded. “Agreed. I’m going to tell the pilots to have the gunships work that area from the farmhouse out to the military transports. Everything in that area dies. Make sure your men don’t go beyond the farmhouse. Okay?”

  Nodding, Max slid over and briefed the others while Gerrit went forward and made his request to the pilots. They would be arriving in just a minute. The chopper broke off to the right and began to circle, coming in low and fast to the landing site they selected. As they sped toward that location, the gunships banked away and came in one after another, hammering the orchards, the truck, and the courtyard.

  We’re coming to get you. Just hold out.

  Alena saw several of the attackers rise from the ground and start forward. An explosion a few moments ago seemed to puzzle the gunmen as an Israeli jet screamed overhead. Using her binoculars, she saw the team leader trying to talk into his portable. The guy seemed to be slapping the radio before trying to transmit again. He shook his head and threw the radio to the ground.

  That made her smile. Gerrit’s plan must have worked. Now, if they could just last until the cavalry arrived. The team leader motioned for his men to group up and began walking toward the farmhouse. Here they come.

  She raised her rifle, aiming for the leader, when she heard what sounded like a belching sound in the distance. A second later she realized what she was hearing. The ground kicked up dirt as hundreds of bullets tore through the air, sweeping over the advancing soldiers like a deadly wave. Men collapsed, some screaming, some just lying motionless on the ground. Right behind that came another gunship, riddling the transport vehicles and the orchard with hot metal.

  No one survived.

  Then she heard her name being called through a back window.

  Gerrit?

  She ran outside and around to the back of the house. Gerrit took her in his arms, hugging her so tightly it cut off her wind. She did not care. She hugged back as if her life depended upon it.

  They survived.

  Chapter 70

  March 25

  Lake Tahoe, California

  Gerrit watched the car pull into the driveway. Bones, still not letting Gerrit out of his sight, gave a quick bark to let him know they had visitors. Willy came into the room, followed by Alena. Shakeela remained upstairs resting after her stay in the hospital. The prognosis was good. All she needed was rest and quiet.

  The car rolled to a stop and Frank Collord and Jack Thompson climbed out. He went outside and greeted the men as they came down the path toward the house. “I thought Beck would be with you.”

  Frank grimaced. “He still has that wire up on the Muslim Brother’s UIB group in Washington. He sent his apologies.”

  Gerrit motioned them toward the lake. Th
ey skirted the cabin and headed toward the water’s edge.

  Frank was the first to break the silence. “Beck is still trying to track down that leak. He knows it’s someone close to President Chambers, but he can’t seem to pin it down yet. Needless to say, the president is going crazy until they can find out who it is.”

  Gerrit nodded. “Maybe we’ll never know.”

  “Hey, on another matter,” Frank said, “the president wanted me to thank you for that idea of using the HMPs—the e-bomb over the Damascus airport. Took out their ability to respond, neutralized our stolen jamming equipment in case you guys couldn’t blow it up, and did all that without any civilian casualties. I guess the really ironic thing was that we used the same jamming devices against them when our jets and helicopters crossed the Syrian border. It was 2008 déjà vu. Once again, we were able to stop the enemy in their tracks. Like poking them in the eye with a stick. Made their electronic systems go belly up.”

  Picking up a pebble, Gerrit pitched it across the water, watching it skip. “Frank, I knew the Navy had been experimenting with those bombs. Thought it would be a good time to see if they really worked in combat.”

  Frank picked up a twig and broke it in two. “Russia still has their hands on our jamming technology, and we can only assume they have duplicated a working prototype, but for now…”

  Gerrit knew for the moment another crisis had been averted. “I still don’t understand why Hassan and the Russians would give Raed and the Muslim Brotherhood a, inoperative system. What if they’d found out?”

  Jack looked at Gerrit. “I’m sure Hassan hoped they wouldn’t find out until they violated Israeli airspace. The Israelis would attack and destroy the evidence, the world would think Syria’s president authorized the attack, and Israel would retaliate with a strike on Syrian soil. The attack would either lead to Assad’s demise, the Brotherhood would finally gain power, or a power struggle among Assad’s surviving government would create a power base friendly with Iran. That would leave the Iranians—with their Russian cohorts—with enough leverage to position themselves closer to the seat of power in Syria. Bottom line, Hassan wanted to make Israel and her allies focus on targets closer to home. He wanted to buy the Iranians more time to get their nuclear weapons program to a stage where Israel could no longer do anything about it.”