by W. R. Benton
“Perhaps it might just do that. Tell someone I have pain, please.”
Adolpha called for a doctor and minutes later, the Boss was asleep.
The President of the United States was speaking to the press outdoors, when a sudden gust of wind blew his notes from the podium. He bent over to pick them up when he heard a scream behind him and two men fell, the same bullet striking both of them. Two Secret Service agents were suddenly on the President, as helicopters in the air and police officers on the ground moved toward the building holding the sniper.
“Roger that, we have two down.” an agent said as he stood beside the President.
The screaming continued, because both men had taken painful injuries.
An EMT ran up on stage and minutes later the yelling stopped.
Shots were heard off in the distance and then a police radio said, “The suspect is hit and down. I repeat, the suspect is down and he has been hit.”
The agents moved off of the President, stood and then helped their boss to his feet.
The President gave both men a pat on the back and said, “Thank you both. I'll see you're taken good care of in the future.”
His aide appeared and said, “We have two bystanders down. One was your press secretary, down with a bullet through his hips, and the other was an Army General, who took what was left of the bullet in the left thigh, shattering the bone. Initial estimates, from the medics, is the same .50 caliber round struck both men.”
“Where was the sniper at?”
“See that tall building almost a mile off? Just to the left of it is a smaller building. The chopper spotted him on the roof at first, but he was caught on the ground minutes later and I was told he was killed.”
“From now on, no more press meetings outside.” the President said, and then walking to the microphone said, “Due to the attempt on my life here today, this press meeting is canceled. I ask all of you, and your viewers or readers, to pray for my press secretary, Tobis Jones, and, uh, General David James Carson. I understand both men were struck, but I have no other information at this time.”
The President walked to his limo, climbed inside and immediately poured a glass of strong amber colored bourbon. He knocked it back and refilled his glass, intending to sip on this one.
His aide and wife entered and the vehicle started.
The driver asked, “Where to, Mr. President?”
“Uh, back to the White House.”
“While you were speaking, ISIS has taken more of Iraq and they executed another five hundred Christians.”
“Look, I have my damned hands full here as it is, so what do you expect me to do?”
“Uh, well, I have no idea, sir. I'm just letting you know what happened while you were busy. I do this all the time.”
“I'm sorry, John. I've got a war on my hands, one we're not doing so well in, I might add. Muslims killing Christians, rebels in Africa kidnapping young girls to use as sex slaves, Muslims rioting in the United Kingdom, riots by everyone in California, and I'm just tired of all this crap.”
“I can understand, sir. Do you still want to speak with Lieutenant General Dalston at noon?”
“Oh, yes, because I'm pushing his promotion through Congress, and he will be my overall allied leader and Commander for this war. He's got the military skills, the guts and the intelligence to make things happen. I'm pushing for him to be promoted to the highest level as General, five stars.”
“I think General Dalston is well qualified for the position, sir.”
“Also, I want my daily military briefing moved up an hour, along with the weather and security meetings.”
They pulled into a long avenue that went by the White House, when suddenly anti-aircraft guns began to spit lead in the sky, missiles were launched from the front lawn, and cannon shells struck the road in front of them, throwing concrete over ten feet into the air.
Picking up his phone the President pushed #1 and a voice answered, “Yes, sir?”
The sound of a jet passing low and fast drowned out all communications for a minute and then a loud explosion made the world shake, so the President had to yell to be heard, “What in the hell is happening at the White House?”
“We're under attack by the CSA, sir!”
There came a sonic boom and then UN aircraft entered the fight.
“Quickly, as they're busy, drive us to the back door, hurry.” the President ordered.
Just as they entered the gate, another loud explosion was heard and, looking around, they saw nothing. Raising the phone, he asked, “What was that noise?”
“One of the UN jets crashed on the avenue you were just on and blew up, sir.”
“I see smoke out of my window.” the First Lady said.
“Okay, into the house now!” an agent said as he opened the limo door.
As they moved for the house, the aide noticed where bullets had struck the specially armored limo and knocked the paint off. He gave an involuntary shudder.
Once in the building, the agents moved them by battery powered elevator ten stories below, to a bunker. Once in the bunker the President moved to his war room and listened to the communications between the UN aircraft.
“Bogey at your twelve O'clock high, Falcon two.”
“Roger, Eagle One, returning to base.”
“Eagle One, your engines are smoking badly and I don't think you'll make it.”
“Break right, break, break! Damn you, break right!”
Turning the volume down, the President realized he'd become like Adolf Hitler in his final days in his bunker. That angered him, because he wanted to be on the offensive. In the room with him were General officers and an admiral from each branch of the services; ignoring them, the President picked up the microphone and said, “Attention, Attention all United Nations aircraft. This is the President of the United States. I humbly ask you to make the Conservatives pay highly for this attack on my home and the home of all Americans. I am safe, so do your duties. Remember, the NWO is depending on all of us.”
Once he released the mic button, bullets were heard striking aircraft, with the sounds of guns and cannons loud. The yelling of warnings and directions to fly continued to be screamed over the radio.
“Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is Bear Three One. I'm going down, I repeat, I'm going down now!”
“Eject, Bear!”
“He's out! To the left at about 5,000 feet.”
“He's got a good chute.”
“Cut the chatter on the radio. Keep it professional.”
“Pull up, Gator two six, up!”
“Got the bastard! Hoooaaahhh!”
“Gator two six just impacted on the White House lawn. I saw his canopy fly off, but the ejection seat never fired.”
“Negative, I have two parachutes at about three angles, near the nine O'clock position.”
“All of us, protect them on the way down. Protect Bear too, second flight!” The loud whine of engines was heard.
“Hawk Three-four, break left, bogey on your six.”
“Jesus, Bear's parachute is in flames!”
“Flames? Must be the heat from the burning buildings and the gas stations.”
“Roger that, because I see no CSA aircraft in our area. Falcon two just shot the last one down.”
“This is the tower, all bogeys are currently leaving California. The air space over the entire state will soon be clear.”
“My God, he's going to fall any second now!”
“Just a bit more, Bear Three One!”
“He's on the ground and on his feet! Bear Three One is safely on the ground!”
The sound of an emergency beeper on guard was heard and then 15 seconds later, Bear said, “This is Bear Three One and I'm safely on the ground, but I'd not like to experience that again.”
“Bear this is Falcon One, and I have notified Search and Rescue. They are sending a chopper, but ask you to move away from the flames, to the avenue in front of the White House.”
“Falcon One, this is the President, can you give me an estimate of losses on both sides?”
“Uh, roger, sir. I can report that our losses were seven aircraft and they lost two birds, sir.”
“We suffered seven losses to their two? Once you land, Colonel, I will have a car waiting for you. I want you to brief me on how we can prevent losses like this in the future. President out.”
“Uh, yes, sir.” Falcon One replied and all knew the Boss was in for an ass chewing.
“The air space over the entire state is clear. I repeat, all enemy traffic is clear over the state. All UN aircraft return to base.”
“Roger, copy tower let's go home, boys.”
The President cocked his head to the left and turning to the Air Force General he asked, “From what you heard, General, how can we improve our attacks?”
“Sir, I think it's crucial you understand our forces were outnumbered over three to one. It appears a few CSA planes were kept flying high over their ground attack and when our aircraft appeared to defend the White House, they had the advantage of not only altitude, but speed as well. Imagine them as Hawks diving on birds or fish. Using that tactic, from the German Air Force and learned during the second World War, it gave them a great advantage, not to mention their overall superior numbers.”
“Mister President?” his aide said.
“Yes?'
“Radar has detected flights of B-1s, B-52s, and even C-130s on a direct course for the state. Our intelligence thinks it's a bombing raid, and they plan to carpet bomb the White House.”
“Are all aircraft heading here?”
“No, sir, not yet. The aircraft are approaching from all directions except west, sir.”
“General, get everything that can fly and fight into the air and do it now, by God!”
The Air Force General walked to the President and said, “Sir, you and the First Lady need to leave this bunker now. There is a tunnel in here that leads to a spot by a river. The exit is well camouflaged, and in a parking lot near you'll find four black armored SUVs. Your aide will have the keys. I suggest you, the First Lady, your driver, aide, and at least six Secret Service agents leave, and now.”
“Why the rush? I mean you make this sound like they'll drop nukes on me and I don't see that happening.”
The C-130s may carry "daisy cutters," which were used in Vietnam and Afghanistan. The bomb has the ability to flatten a forest into a helicopter landing zone. It's a 15,000 pound (6,800 kg) conventional bomb, delivered from a C-130 and if they drop a few here, you will want to be someplace else. Then, again, they might use a MOAB bomb, which is 22,600 pounds and the blast area is 500 feet. Used or planned to be used against soft to medium targets, it will flatten the White House and all surrounding support buildings, including the air conditioners, power, communications, and water to this bunker.”
“What of all the people in the bunker, then?”
“We have emergency backup systems for 24 hours. Once the backup systems come on, I'll have the troops use the same tunnel you used to leave, sir. Of course, all electronics, classified and other high security items will either be destroyed or brought with us. We have thermite grenades to ruin the gear left behind. Now, go, sir, and stay safe. I have no idea of the kind of damage a MOAB can do here.”
“John?”
“Here, Mr. President.”
“Get the First Lady and a half dozen Secret Service Agents; we need to leave. Be sure to bring the keys to the black SUVs parked near the tunnel. Hurry; I understand there is some danger coming and quickly, too.”
Minutes later the hatch covering the tunnel had the padlock unlocked and a code was punched into the keypad. The numbers all turned green and the door opened. The small party left the bunker and moved into the tunnel. Electric lights lit the way and about half way to the exit, the ground shook violently, the lights went out and then came back on, but noticeably dimmer.
One of the agents said, “The main power source has been wiped out, and we're on auxiliary power.”
Seconds later, there came another shaking and dust and cracked concrete fell from the roof of the tunnel. The First lady screamed, her eyes large in fear.
“Ma'am, you're safe. The bunker and this tunnel were developed to survive a nuke attack. We're all safe.” The same agent spoke again.
They began to trot to the exit, having heard the agent's words, but not even he believed them.
CHAPTER 21
“I hear armor, but it must be ours, right?” Frank whispered.
“Tanks and such could have been dropped using Low Altitude Parachute Extraction System (LAPES). It's easily done, and all they need is an open field.” Joda said.
Frank strained his eyes to see better, then remembered the NVGs he'd taken from the crashed helicopter. He ran to the supply cabin, pulled the NVGs and handed one pair to Ben.
He donned the goggles and then whispered, “Three tanks, and they're bad guys. It looks to me like they're looking for a place to spend the night.”
“Let them stay here and we'll surprise them later this evening.”
Ben said, “I see troops too, maybe a platoon or more of infantry.”
The tanks were heard to stop moving and then the engines went into idle. Orders were heard, but it was too far away to clearly hear what was said. Minutes later, the engines stopped. When James took a peek, he saw a big 'UN' on each tank.
“Captain!”
“Yes, sir?”
“Have the men dig in close to the tanks. Have their holes deep enough so if we get into a fight, our tanks can drive right over them. Tell them if they are not deep enough, they'll be buried in a pizza box back home.”
“I will tell them, Colonel.”
Frank whispered to Ben, “Let them go to work, and near midnight we'll visit our friends. I suspect after the adrenaline of a combat jump, walking for most of the day, and then digging holes, our friends will be tired tonight. Once they are asleep, we'll try to take the tanks out. I want the keys in the vehicles, including the deuce and a half, ready to go. Even if we knock out the tanks, the ground troops will hit us hard at daylight. Everything of any value should be packed now, but absolutely no noise.”
Once all of importance was packed away, mostly in the big truck, they moved into the trees near the edge of the clearing, where they could keep an eye on the enemy. Near midnight the last man finished his foxhole and then dropped into it for some much needed sleep. They'd heard the order given for fifty percent of the troops to stay alert.
As prior military men, all those in the trees watching knew staying awake after jumping from an aircraft, combat, and moving all day, the fifty percent alert would actually drop to about 15 or 20 percent, as fatigue visited each man. Near 0300 hours, they'd strike the tanks.
Little movement was seen but snores were heard, as well as someone mumbling in their sleep. The time passed slowly, but James was excited, because all three M1A1 Abrams Tanks had their hatches open. If they could get close enough to drop some grenades Ben had brought with him, then they'd take all of the heavy beasts out. Tom would man the M-60 machine-gun taken recently from the chopper they'd downed at the barn, while Nancy would be his ammo person.
Each of them carried a couple of Molotov cocktails, so they'd not use all the grenades they had. No one had any idea when they'd get more military supplies and explosives, if ever. The plan was for James, Joda, and Dick to drop a Molotov cocktail down an open hatch, followed by a grenade. It was hoped that the resulting explosion and fire would cause the ammo and fuel to explode, thus destroying the tank. The key was for all of them to release the grenades at almost the same time.
Later, glancing at his watch, James said, “Time to move. Frank and Ben, if you see anyone moving after the fighting starts, take them out. Especially if they are an officer or senior NCO.”
“We'll keep them off your back and our rifles have sil
encers, so even as you move forward, I'll have your back covered. I'll use Ben as a spotter, well, at least until you mount the tanks.”
Looking at Joda and Dick, James then said, “The key here is for all of us to drop our grenades at the same time. Even if we come under fire, we all drop at the same time. Understood?”
Both men nodded and then they followed James as he crawled toward the tanks. The leader felt his heart pounding in his ears and his senses were finely tuned, looking for any danger. He heard or felt nothing from the men sleeping in the fox holes. He hoped the snipers and M-60 would keep them safe, but things always went wrong in combat, always.
All three made it to their tank because they'd moved slowly, and had camouflage makeup on their faces, necks and hands, provided by Ben. When James was on his tank, he squatted by the turret to wait for the others. After all three were on their tanks, James threw his Molotov cocktail as hard as he could down the hatch, but the rag had not been lit.
He pulled the pin from his grenade, looked at the other two men and they were ready, too. He tossed the grenade at the same time a tank crew member asked, “What was that noise? I smell gas.”
James jumped from the big heavy tank and took off running behind the other two men. Rifles began to pop, but they were coming from the trees. The first tank suddenly exploded, sending flames out of the open hatches and making the area as light as day. A bullet zinged by James' ear just as he reached the trees. When he glanced at the tanks, thick black smoke and fire were rolling into each other above the burning vehicles.
The second tank gave a huge ka-boom as it exploded and sent the turret high into the air, twisting and turning as it ascended toward some low clouds. The third tank shot off with a loud explosion, the turret lifting about six feet, as the flames shot out of the hatches and the round spot on its body where the turret usually rested. Two men, their foxholes too close to the tanks, stood and stumbled around, aflame as they screeched in pain. A silent shot from Ben killed one, but he couldn't see the other, and apparently Frank wasn't going to waste a shot on his burning man.
Less than three minutes later the man, still in flames from splashed fuel, fell to his knees, and fell forward onto his face in the grass, his pain finally gone.