The Final Proclamation (An America Reborn Thriller Book 2)

by Carlton James

  Sean said, “As it happens, I can answer that one. No, regular military troops are not considered to be suitable for that mission. Instead, they will want to use Special Forces operators to do that dirty work.” Everyone in the room froze and gawked at Sean.

  “Unfortunately, those resources aren’t available to them quite yet.” Sean just let the statement hang in the air and didn’t clarify. Finally Mike decided to move on.

  “Well, all right then,” Mike said with resolution, “let’s continue to plan for securing the neighborhood. I mean, we’ve already got a fence, right?” Again, there were chuckles all around. Mike had arranged with five of the small cattle farmers to bring their cows into the neighborhood. This had required the purchase and installation of an electric cattle fence completely encircling the neighborhood. It was made up of a single wire, strung about three feet above the ground and attached to spaced fence posts with electrical insulators on them. It would hold in cattle and maybe lazy horses, but nothing else. “How are the designs on the entrance gates?”

  Rollie responded, “We’ve got all the lumber and hardware we’ll need to build them, plus a few tricks I have in mind. We’ve also got two Bobcat front-end loaders to dig some fighting positions.”

  He gave Linda a small salute for that idea. “I’ve been waiting for a pretty day to get a crew out to get it done.”

  Mike just smiled and said, “Do ya suppose tomorrow will be a good day for that? A little bit of rain mixed with snow shouldn’t slow you down none, now should it?”

  “Sure thing, Mike. Tomorrow it is.”

  Chapter 54

  The New Year - Plus Forty-Six Days

  The Mountains of Southeastern Afghanistan

  1600 Hours Local Time

  Ahmed rode in the passenger seat of the old, bouncing Toyota Corolla with Hadi driving and Ali sitting in the back seat. Ali was wrapped up in full, black robes like a woman. On the seat next to him was a box covered in black cloth, shaped like a small casket. A large van trailed the Toyota loaded with fifteen men and their luggage. Hadi drove slowly, as was fitting for someone heading for a funeral. At this rate it would take several more hours to get to Kabul and their hotel, but it was also unlikely they would be stopped.

  In the trunk was a quiet Cho, with shackles still on, that were now chained to a bolt through the floor. Ahmed had told him that when the martyrs were on their planes, he would be released. He had not decided whether he spoke the truth to Cho. No dishonor is earned if one lies to an Infidel anyway.

  It was a struggle for Ahmed to contain his excitement. He was about to do something no one had done before. Once the Infidels were gone, the JOTP would be able to spread the word of the Prophet across the world.

  Hadi had arranged to purchase plane tickets for each of the martyrs, departing in two days. Ahmed had wanted to send them out immediately upon his arrival in Kabul, but Hadi had convinced him to get the tickets and have an extra day in case anything came up to prevent efficient travel. They had been slowed by a washed out bridge, as it turned out. He would ensure the martyrs remained true as they boarded their airplanes to do their most important work.

  . . .

  Command Bunker

  Outside of Beijing, China

  1545 Hours Local Time

  Song was miserable with an annoying cough that brought sharp pains in his cracked ribs and broken bones. His mood was brightened when Wong announced Lao’s arrival. Song began with the usual polite pleasantries before turning to the upcoming invasion.

  “Lao, the General Staff briefer just left an hour ago and reports the invasion can happen as early as two days from now. Is this information accurate?”

  “Yes, General Secretary, it is.” Lao made the declaration with some reservations, but he knew Song only wanted an answer to the basic question, when could they invade.

  “Good.” Song said this with both satisfaction and finality. “The invasion will commence at 0300 hours in three days.”

  Lao bowed and responded, “I would recommend, General Secretary that everyone is told to prepare for two days, and let my intelligence people assess whether there is too much advance warning preparations by our renegade republic.”

  Song responded, “Yes, see that it is done.”

  A painful coughing fit began as soon as the door closed behind Lao.

  . . .

  SOCOM Headquarters

  1115 Hours EST

  The analyst, a CWO3, or Chief Warrant Officer, grade 3, knocked on the Colonel’s door before coming in and saluting in front of his desk. “Sir, I have that data you asked for regarding the JOTP.” He then continued to stand at attention waiting for a response from the Colonel.

  After only a few seconds, the Colonel looked up. “At ease, son. What have you got for me?”

  He got up from his desk and motioned the CWO3 to follow him to the conference table nearby. The CWO3 quickly spread out maps of the target area on the table. “Sir, I’ve been able to locate human traffic at two locations in the target area that look very promising. Infrared imagery shows the usual pattern of guards stationed around what I believe are the main entrances to two cave complexes. Intel suggests that over the past three months, any patrols by the Afghan military are lead on a trail away from the area. Imagery also seems to show at least two major venting holes for what we believe are large generators at one of the sites. And here, Sir, is something very curious.” He held up a grainy infrared photo. “You can see what looks like someone in a chemical suit that has been unzipped and is half hanging from his waist. The video showed him coming out of the cave and opening the suit quickly, before sitting down to smoke.”

  “Son,” said the Colonel, “that just jumped this thing up to a top priority. Make up a dozen packets of this information and put it on a PowerPoint presentation. I want you ready to brief the operators within 12 hours. And make sure they understand they need to be in chem/bio protective gear when they hit the targets. Got it?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Chapter 55

  The New Year - Plus Forty-Eight Days

  Kabul, Afghanistan

  1100 Hours Local Time

  Ahmed rode next to Hadi, in the Toyota, feeling elated, exhausted and disappointed at the same time. He could tell no difference in Hadi, except for his small smile. His disappointment arose from his decision to release Cho, after the martyrs had all departed on their travels. He had enjoyed speaking with and learning from Cho about the world and how terribly the Infidels had ruined it. Men becoming women, women sleeping with women, men sleeping with men, and so much more. The world needed to be purged. Now, however he no longer had Cho’s descriptions and theories to occupy his mind. He had been dropped off with almost all of the documents and money he carried when captured. He had said he would not contact his government and would find a hole somewhere in the world where he could wait out the chaos. Ahmed neither knew nor cared where he would go. His work for Allah was done.

  Neither Ahmed nor Hadi had said anything since watching the fifteen enter the Kabul airport terminal in twos and threes and then dropping Cho off. Two hours earlier each martyr had received an injection from Ali. Men previously sent inside the terminal had called Hadi, as each group boarded their plane, on their trip to change the world. Each believed he would be well rewarded upon his glorious death, never realizing the horrible road of pain and suffering he now inescapably traveled and would inflict on innocent masses throughout the world.

  Ali was sleeping in the back seat, next to the refrigerated container with the leftover vials of the new virus. The return back to the caves would only take five hours, driving at a reasonable rate of speed. Not too fast to attract attention, but much faster than tha
t of a funeral procession. The two hour hike back to the cave complexes from the truck drop-off point would be much easier with their mission finally done.

  “Hadi, the day after tomorrow you can move the wives and families of all of the fighters from their villages to the caves. The Americans will soon be too busy to bomb us.” Both men chuckled.

  Ahmed also decided he would, once again, take his second wife out of turn, possibly even twice, to celebrate.

  . . .

  Special Forces A-Team 1

  Mountains of Southeast Afghanistan

  2300 Hours Local Time

  The Special Forces A-team from 7th Special Forces Group had been in the vicinity of the second priority cave for over twelve hours. Between aerial imagery and their night vision equipment, the twelve operators believed they had pinpointed locations of four terrorist sentries. They had even seen the arrival of Ahmed and Hadi three hours earlier. Unknown to the operators, the vast majority of Ahmed’s group, including a number of his personal security people, had remained behind in Kabul to visit with friends and relatives.

  Each operator carried a suppressed .300 caliber Blackout rifle, similar to the old M-16 rifle used by American soldiers in the Vietnam War era, but with much more knockdown power. They also carried a suppressed .22 caliber pistol. With a suppressor, its shot was much closer to the quiet “spit” depicted in the movies than other, larger-caliber weapons. When the team leader gave the signal, the eight operators quietly killed the sentries with .22 caliber pistol shots to the head. No alarm was raised, so they moved on to the entrance of the cave, where two more dozing sentries were quietly dispatched.

  The team leader made contact with the second A-team leader at the other site and prepared to enter the dark cave. At the same time, “Little Bird” small attack helicopters moved to provide direct air support, one at each location. SOCOM had denied use of heavily armed Apache helicopters, although one covert Blackhawk was twenty minutes away in case of the need for medivac. The requested A-10 close support aircraft and two or more Predator drones were also denied. Defense spending cuts had gutted all branches of the military, including SOCOM. They were literally having difficulty paying for fuel for any type of training.

  With two operators designated to guard the cave entrance, the rest of the team moved into the tunnel. Each man’s NVG, or night vision goggles, with infrared lights, illuminated the cave with eerie light that only they could see, as they moved forward quietly into the cave in single file. They were close enough to each other to communicate silently through touch. When the men came to an opening or branch of the tunnel, two men would quickly, but quietly, enter the unknown space to clear it of any threats. The rest waited quietly and provided over watch until the space was cleared. They would all then continue down the cave tunnel.

  The fun began when the two man team entered the third chamber entrance they encountered and found six men sleeping in the darkened space. Unfortunately, two more men were standing; urinating in a pot near the door as the operators stepped in, causing them to scream. They were all cut down as they reached for AK-47s placed haphazardly around the room. It took less than six seconds before the lead operator shouted, “Clear left.” The second operator responded “clear right,” and both men left the cave to continue on down the tunnel behind the now-moving line of operators.

  Just after the firing began in the chamber, the team leader, who had become the first man at the front of the line, could see a man holding an AK-47 rifle come charging out of a chamber a few feet down the tunnel. Instinct told the team leader this man might be important, so he shot him in the shoulder, knocking him to the ground. The man’s rifle went flying down the tunnel. The team leader and his appointed partner quickly moved forward to secure the man as two more from the stack tossed a concussion grenade into the chamber the man had just left, before entering to clear it.

  The remaining tunnel complex was cleared without serious incident, other than the operators being required to physically subdue three hysterical females.

  . . .

  Special Forces A-Team 2

  Mountains of Southeast Afghanistan

  2300 Hours Local Time

  The second A-Team was not as fortunate as the first. Before one of the sentries died, he fired off a blast from his AK-47 rifle. The team had trained for this, so they quickly dispatched the remaining sentries, aiming with the night vision scopes on their rifles. They then moved tactically into the main entrance of the cave, meeting and killing two more sentries. Four more guards had been sleeping in an alcove just inside the cave. Each died with two shots to the heart and one to the head. One had a Chinese–made hand grenade in his hand, but he had forgotten to pull the pin to activate it.

  Leaving two operators at the entrance for rear security, the rest entered the cave in a ten-man stack, each operator closely following the teammate in front of him. At each branch of the labyrinth that made up the cave complex, the team split apart, until soon there were five two-man teams clearing chambers dug into the cave sides as they went. Most of the chambers had food, water or other supplies, but no people. The lead operator and his partner rounded a corner in the cave tunnel to find themselves face to face with two crazed men in white lab coats and with what looked like empty, raised hands. When the operators paused and shouting in Arabic for them to stop, one of the men pulled out a pistol and shot the first operator in the leg. Reflexively, both operators released two short bursts of bullets into both men, driving them back down the tunnel, where they crumpled in a heap in the pool of bright light spilling from an actual doorway in the side of the passageway.

  Light spilled out of doorway, causing the operators’ NVGs or night vision goggles to become useless. When they flipped the NVGs up and out of the way, they squinted inside the room. It was brightly lit by LED lights and contained a modern laboratory. A lone figure stood by a refrigerated unit with a clear glass front, holding two flasks, one in each hand.

  The first operator, with blood pumping out of the arterial wound in his leg, entered the room and ordered the man, in Arabic, to put down the flasks. The man looked at him calmly and said, in English, “Oh, no. You should put up your hands and beg for forgiveness from your God. But it won’t matter anyway because we’re all dead.” He then hurled both of the flasks at the operators. While the flasks were in the air, both operators fired at the knees of the odd terrorist, having determined they needed to capture him alive. He fell to the ground screaming in pain. The flasks missed the operators, but smashed against the wall next to them, showering both men with liquid. Without a word, each man dropped to one knee and put on his gas mask. The injured operator then quickly applied his battle tourniquet and a pressure dressing to his leg.

  The second operator moved to Ali and applied flex-cuffsto Ali’s wrists, securing them behind his back. He then placed tourniquets on each of his shattered legs.

  Walking out into the corridor, the operator attempted to contact his team leader and was not surprised when the radio didn’t work in the tunnel complex. He could hear no echoes of shots being fired, so he increased the volume on his gas mask voice box and shouted “Gas, bio!” He then took out two small flares from his pouch and placed them down the tunnel, one to each direction leading away from the doorway.

  The team leader, Captain Charles Schneider, had encountered a mystery while clearing the furthest passageway. A heavy corrugated steel wall and padlocked steel door were blocking the passageway. He could see insulation poking out from the edges of where the steel met the rock wall. Beside the door were hung S.C.A.L.P. suits and gas masks. Schneider immediately held up his hand to stop his partner and began donning his gas mask. He thought about shooting off the lock when he spotted a key hanging from a metal screw next to the door. Opening the lock, he pulled the door open while his partner made a fast,
tactical entry into the next chamber. Seeing the small figure huddled in robes on a wooden bench against the wall, the operator shouted in Arabic, “Show me your hands!”

  The veiled woman looked up at the obvious soldiers and said in English, “What for, so you can rape me too?”

  Both men stopped in surprise. Schneider then responded softly in English, “I’m sorry ma’am. We have to be sure you’re no threat. We’re U.S. soldiers. I’m a U.S. Army Captain. What’s your name?”

  The look in Julie’s eyes said it all, to both operators. In less than three seconds her eyes went from disbelief, to wonder and joy to a flood of tears. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed uncontrollably. Through her fingers, the sergeant thought he heard her say, “Julie, Julie Carrithers.” She hardly noticed as the sergeant apologized while he patted her down for weapons.

  When Julie’s sobs subsided, she looked up at the gas masks of operators, tried to stand up, and fainted. Everything she had gone through over the past many months had built a wall in her mind. When hope had come through the door, her mind simply couldn’t cope.

  “My God,” Schneider said, “poor kid’s been through hell.” He was about to take off his mask, when something told him not to. “I can smell death in here, even through my mask. Let’s treat this as a chem/bio-weapons containment area until we can get the sniffers in here. You stay here with her. I’ll send someone back to help carry her out. Remember, she’s probably contaminated.”

  Chapter 56

  The New Year - Plus Forty-Eight Days