Motherland

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Motherland Page 17

by L. Todd Wood


  “Israel has faced these threats before and has come out on top with the help of the United States, why do you think the outcome will be different this time?” asked Peter.

  The briefer looked at the older man for guidance. The older officer hesitated.

  “What is it?” asked Natasha.

  “Tell them,” said Reshma Nadir, an Arab Mossad agent who had uncovered the truth about the Sultan earlier in the year. She knew Connor, Peter, and Natasha well as she was in charge of the small tactics unit in Brazil which saved them from certain death at the hands of the Russians the previous summer. “They deserve to know. They have been active in this scenario for some time. It is the right thing to do. They can be trusted.” The old man, obviously the officer in charge, nodded his head in the affirmative.

  The briefer, having received clearance, continued. “After much laborious, detective work, agent Nadir uncovered the real identity of the Sultan, a man we have been trying to unearth for almost a decade. He has been coordinating the attacks against Israel from all parts of the Islamic world for years. He has been very successful in weakening the support for Israel within the United States and Europe. It is for this reason that we do not believe we can trust or count on America for support and rearmament during the next conflict. Israel is on her own. That is why this threat to the north is so serious.”

  “But how does he wield so much power within the U.S. if he is in the Middle East?” asked Peter. The briefer again looked at his chief who nodded in the affirmative.

  “Because the Sultan, the man who is trying to destroy Israel, the man who engineered two tactical nuclear weapons into the country last year which were thankfully detected and destroyed by the Shin Bet, the man who has organized and spearheaded this latest threat our country, the man who could be behind the bio weapon, the man who allowed Iran to gain a nuclear capability, the man trying to pressure Israel back to the indefensible 1967 borders, well, I could go on and on. This man is none other than the president of the United States, President Chahine.”

  Peter and Natasha were thunderstruck. Reshma looked at them and slowly nodded her head in confirmation. Peter sat back in his chair and let out a long whistle. “Where do we go from here?” he asked.

  “And what about my husband?” asked Natasha.

  “Let them go,” said Reshma. “Perhaps they can be helpful in Argentina as our hands are full here.” The older man nodded his head once and left the room. Once again, the meeting was adjourned.

  Connor pulled back on the yoke of the Otter and the aircraft gained altitude to cross a ridge that was in their flight path. The two men were enjoying flying at rather low altitude as they were literally completely alone in this part of the country. An occasional road, powerline, etc. was seen but no sign of large-scale civilization. It was just the way both of them wanted it.

  The Otter is performing magnificently, thought Connor. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time. What a fabulous, powerful aircraft. The Andes foothills were now in their crosshairs and Connor could feel the air start to thin as they climbed higher and higher. This is complete freedom and I love it. I’d forgotten how much I love it.

  As they crested the ridge and powerfully careened down the opposite valley, Connor noticed a cell tower to his left along the ridge, strategically placed to further communication to the small village down below to their twelve o’clock low. At the same moment he noticed the tower, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket as the device synced to the global network. “You have the controls,” he said to Fabian.

  “I have the controls,” Fabian responded in a military manner.

  Connor pulled out his iPhone and noticed a message in his long dormant high yield account that he only used for communications with Peter. He opened the page and the message popped up on the screen from his dear friend.

  I’m in Tel Aviv. Your mate is fine. Be careful. Sultan is POTUS.

  Connor felt like a brick had hit him in the head. The president of the United States is the Sultan? This is the man who caused me so much trouble last year and almost had me killed? Is he the man behind this little adventure I have been on? Connor continued to try and make sense of the situation. He had no reason to doubt Peter’s assertion but this was hard to believe. Connor’s entire world was now upside down. Everything he had been taught to believe in, was it wrong? Jesus, where do I go now? Who do I trust? I trust my friends, that is who. And I have to trust that this bastard will be removed from power and the America I knew will one day be reborn. Until then, I trust my friends, and my friends only.

  Fabian noticed the look on Connor’s face as he stared at his phone and said, “Well, whatever it is, you might as well tell me about it, since we are in this thing together, you know.”

  “Yes, my friend, I will fill you in. In the meantime, we need to talk about where we are going don’t we? The air is getting thinner and time is growing short.”

  Anatoly looked out the window at the deep, blue sky of the Andes mountains. Then he scanned the craggy peaks of the mountains which were dotted with patches of white snow. It was a beautiful scene, he had to admit. He also had to admit he loved it here, where he could be with like-minded people, Germans, lots of them. Even Nazis, he did not care. But he was here to develop the bio weapon for the Motherland. Anything else did not matter. However, God was kind to him. He had lived to see the day when his life’s work would be fulfilled. They had finally been successful with recent tests. The previous trials, unfortunately, had casualties, but that could not be avoided. The final architecture of the weapon, however, was perfect.

  The leaves of Alpine trees were turning. Pungent golds, yellows, and orange filled the ravines in a collage of bright art from nature. It is fitting. It is poignant that I will die in Winter, when the leaves have turned to nothing, when the snow comes. Anatoly knew he would not live another year. Something in his body had told him that. He could feel his internal processes shutting down. He could accept that now. His time on this earth was over. But I have lived to see my dream come true! The Motherland will now be saved! My people will be secure, their future bright and filled with peace and happiness! I can go in peace and with contentment.

  There were only a few more tests and the bio weapon would be operational. The only task would be to acquire DNA material from the target and then a bespoke weapon could be created within months. It would change the nature of warfare. It would alter the course of human history. The enemies of the Motherland would be vanquished. It is God’s will. Let it be done.

  Fabian gave Connor back the controls and they continued flying up into the Andes mountains. “Connor, we are going to the Bariloche area. It is a region of the country where many of the Nazi leaders and collaborators fled after the war, during the late forties and early fifties. Your own government helped many of them escape. The Americans did not feel they would get a fair trial in the Soviet Union. They also wanted to understand the science the Nazis were working on as much of it was not fully understood at the time. The Nazis were much further along in many areas than the world thought and it is frightening how close they came to developing their own weapons of mass destruction. The world would be a much different place than it is today.

  “The built a society up in the mountains to continue their beliefs and traditions. It’s like going back to Berlin in 1942. The Juan Peron regime encouraged it, help them flourish. There are Nazi symbols everywhere. There were many secret enclaves built to support the Nazi leadership all over the Argentine mountains and jungles. Some parts of the society are known to the world, such as Israel, the U.S. and so on. Other parts are not. That is where we are going. A part that very few people know about. I can get you in there because of some contacts I have inside the government which allows this part of their society to exist. Not very many people know about this facility. I believe your scientist is there. A little bird told me that might be true. I really don’t know. However, I know it will be the best place to start to look for him.”

 
“Well, this should be interesting,” replied Connor. “Do you know any of these people?”

  “No, we only have permission to land at a small, secluded airstrip up in the mountains.”

  “You can make the landing? How long is the strip?”

  “Not long enough.”

  “Great. I guess I have something to look forward to then.”

  “Yes, you do I’m afraid. The strip is right off the shelf of an ancient glacier, several kilometers west from Bariloche. You may remember from your Alaska flying days, the glacier creates its own weather patterns. The change in temperatures play havoc with the gusts of wind flowing off the ice. It’s kind of like what Forrest Gump’s mother said, you never know what you’re gonna get.”

  “My kind of landing.”

  “We have to keep the power up coming over the ice formation, in case we have to

  power our way out of a downdraft, but once we clear it, we have to cut power and slow to stall speed to have any chance of making the landing. Then we have to pray.”

  “Have you ever put a plane down here?”

  “Yes, I ferried a military commander here years ago. I hear nothing has changed. I have to admit, it’s a sporty landing my friend, even for an ace pilot like myself.”

  “Well, you were never one for bravado.” Connor looked at his friend and smiled. “We’ll get her down together.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The two flights of MV-22s took off from the U.S. Navy ship in the Atlantic Ocean in the dead of night. The rather short flight inland and through the valleys and ravines of the Andes foothills masked their radar signature perfectly. No one in the area had the need to worry about an insertion of ranger and special operations troops so only air traffic control radars were in operation in Chile and Argentina. The USAF and Marine aircraft had no problem evading detection, even though they were a rather large target.

  There was no landing zone at the target large enough to allow for touch down of the multiple large aircraft. Therefore, the ground force was to be inserted four kilometers away in a large pasture meant only for the local sheep to graze. There were no human eyes any anywhere to be found according to satellite and signal reconnaissance. In any event, the insertion was done quickly and the MV-22s egressed back out to the ship for refueling.

  Two hundred rangers and one Delta Force unit were inserted at midnight and began the trek to the target, up a long and winding mountain path. These were troops especially trained in mountain warfare. The Rangers were there to back up the special operators as they hit the target and to secure the perimeter. The plan was for the entire force to egress back down the mountain to the waiting MV-22s several hours later. All electronic and signal communications were jammed by Navy electronic warfare aircraft in the area. No one would know the hit even happened until it was too late. The operation was being watched and monitored directly by Joint Special Operations Command (JSCOC) at Fort Bragg and by the White House itself in the Situation Room.

  As the large force neared the target, the Rangers spread out and established an impenetrable perimeter. The target with the hoped-for ‘precious cargo’ was directly ahead. Delta Force prepared to infiltrate and remove Anatoly and the research into the weapon. As verified by satellite photos which had been pored over for days, the compound consisted of one large building, thought to be a laboratory, and several smaller dwellings which looked to be sleeping quarters and a cantina. No human activity was seen as the inhabitants were thought to be asleep as expected.

  The Delta operators moved in for the hit, hoping to not have to use deadly force. Two of their party were specialized scientists trained in the use and recovery of biological warfare agents. Overhead, satellites monitored the situation real time and transmitted troops movements and video to the command chain. Strike aircraft were orbiting offshore in case they were needed for fire support which was not expected to be needed. The Rangers carried enough firepower to deal with any possible situation that could arise. The Argentine and Chilean troops were located far from this area. No security force at the location had been spotted for days. It looked as if the operators felt their remote location was secure enough against any unexpected, foreign threats to the facility.

  Delta moved in for the hit.

  The Russian officer walked into the room where the woman was being held. He saw her eyes widen with fright as she looked at him. Her gag prevented any screams coming from her mouth. He wondered why she gave him such a response and then he looked down at his shirt which had the Iranians blood all over it. He had spurted a good bit when we cut off his nose, the Russian thought. I forgot about that.

  “Don’t worry,” he said to the woman in Spanish. “We are not going to hurt you. However, we cannot let you go just yet. This room is impossible to escape from. The walls, and the door are hardened. There are no windows. There is a camera in the corner of the ceiling. We can see everything. So, I am going to untie you and take off your gag. However, as I said, you cannot leave yet. Your husband is ok. This Iranian thug who took you was going to kill you and him for your money. We prevented that. But, there are other issues at play here so I can’t have you running to the police, not just yet.

  He took off her cuffs and the gag. “So, make yourself as comfortable as possible. He pointed to the bed. There are blankets also in the closet, along with a pillow if you would like to rest. You will be escorted to the bathroom every two hours.

  “I would like to speak to my husband,” she said.

  “That will not be possible at the moment. However, soon, we are going to take you to him. As I think you know, he is not in Buenos Aires at the moment. As soon as we find out exactly where he is, we will take you there. Thank you for your patience. Oh, and by the way,” he said as he pointed to his bloody uniform, “The Iranian will not be bothering you any more. Take care.” The Russian closed the door and locked the room.

  Connor held the portable GPS navigation instrument in his hand and guided Fabian in to the landing strip. He hated GPS. In the old days, it was just finger on the map. You either made it or you didn’t. None of this electronic video game stuff. That’s the way it should be. Connor’s old habits died hard. In the other hand he held a topographical map that Fabian had secured for the site. Light was falling and they would get only one, maybe two chances at landing, then they would have to go to an alternate for the night. That was not a prospect that either one of them relished, flying through the mountains at night. So, it was now or never in both of their minds.

  My instructor always said, what if the golden bee bee hits you right through your little class cockpit, what are you going to do then? You need to have a map. Connor literally traced their progress up the ravine on the paper and soon the glacier opened up in front of them. It was a massive sight. They flew about three hundred feet over the ice and the giant caverns opened up underneath them inside the slowly moving fortress of frozen water. It had been like this for the millennia.

  Unexpectedly, a downdraft caught the Otter as the wind shear from the temperature changes on the glacier played havoc with their flight path. Fabian gunned the throttle and the piston engine groaned against the strong winds. As quickly as the downdraft came, it suddenly disappeared and the aircraft shot up in the air with all the power that Fabian had applied. He chopped the throttle to maintain the glidepath to the airstrip which Connor suddenly saw opening up to them straight ahead. It’s a very short landing distance and actually sloped upwards. That should help bleed off our ground speed when the time comes, he thought.

  Fabian looked for a wind sock and there was none. “Can you tell which way the wind is blowing?” he asked Connor.

  Connor looked outside the window and saw a small pond in one of the ice caverns of the glacier. The cool water was rippled to one side which pointed out the direction of the wind. Noticing that ripple was a technique he learned in flight school. One could also look at the direction of the leaves blowing in the wind. If you saw the underside, you had a tail wind. Smoke
from a fire was also a dead giveaway.

  “We have a slight crosswind to starboard, to the east. You’re doing great. The strip looks like it has an upward slope so that should help bleed off groundspeed once we touch down.

  Fabian fought the Otter over the glacier. As they neared the opposite side of the ice flow, he began to prepare for landing, running the pre-landing checklist. Connor assisted. Once the aircraft left the icy flow underneath them, Fabian reduced power and pulled up the nose of the plane in order to bleed off airspeed as quickly as possible. The stall warning horn began to go off in both of their ears. Any further reduction in speed would cause the lift on the wings to stall and the plane would sink like a rock; just stop flying. Fabian expertly guided the plane down, like riding a bubble, always on the edge of losing lift, barely maintaining a flight path, and when they were about five feet above the ground and very slow, he literally stalled the plane and it sank down, landing hard at the beginning of the airstrip. He cut power completely. There would be no go-around. There was not enough room. The Otter violently slammed into the ground and the over engineered bush landing gear performed perfectly. Soon the plane came to a stop near the opposite end of the runway. Both Connor and Fabian slumped back in their seats in instantaneous relief of built up stress. As they turned off the engine and got out to chock the Otter, the sun sank below the horizon.

  Fabian and Connor secured the aircraft and then began walking back to the small hangar that was located in the center of the strip to the east. “So what do we do now Commander? We’re here, what next?” asked Connor.

 

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