by T I WADE
Few got rounds off and one hit Manuel himself in the arm hanging loosely down the side of the running Mendez and made a gash in the Seal’s side. He didn’t lose pace, and he and the three men close behind him made it through the door, the Seals’ fire enabling their escape.
“Into the truck, fast!” shouted Charlie Meyers as he turned back through the still open door and fired off the last of his rounds from his thirty-round banana magazine. He flipped the magazine out and over, shoving a fresh magazine into the weapon as did Lieutenant Paul, and they fired another sixty rounds into the mass of people falling in front of them.
Both men emptied their second magazines as they heard the horn of the truck below them blast. The Seals in the building, now out of ammo, caught up with the guys giving them covering fire from the door. They threw away the empty magazines, were thrown fresh magazines, shoved them into their hot weapons, headed down the exit ramp, and jumped ten feet onto the apron below.
A Seal began firing from the roof of the truck’s cab with a heavy machine gun as Charlie, the last man, jumped up and clambered inside the rear and over the closed gate. There were vehicles being started up everywhere under the building as the driver floored the truck, and it lurched forward with Lieutenant Meyers nearly being knocked out as his head hit the rear gate.
“Head for the perimeter, we have vehicles coming at us from everywhere!” shouted Lieutenant Paul as the men in the truck began firing in all directions.
They left the terminal area and the driver slammed the screaming truck into second as bullets began hitting the protective steel sides from everywhere. He got it into third and headed over the apron as vehicles of all sorts headed out onto the apron behind them, weapons firing.
An M35 isn’t the fastest vehicle in the world, and they reached the first taxiway when the faster jeeps began to gain on them. There was so much lead being shot at them that it was nearly impossible to fire back.
Three P-51 Mustangs screamed over firing at the lead enemy vehicles which literally exploded and somersaulted over, spewing men in all directions.
This gave the cumbersome M35’s driver a chance to double-clutch and loudly grind the gear lever into fourth, as the speedometer climbed through forty miles an hour. They passed by where the remains of Blue Moon were still burning, and Charlie looked over the rear gate to count more than forty vehicles still gaining on them a hundred yards behind. They still had several hundred yards to go as the men firing through the cab’s turret shouted “Choppers incoming” from the front of the truck.
“Hold your fire!” shouted Lieutenant Paul as the vehicles behind began slowing down; he looked outside and around the tarp over the rear bed to see a beautiful sight: a dozen of what looked like modern attack helicopters coming in low over the perimeter fence, and the lead chopper flew straight over the truck.
He looked back and saw the vehicles all turning and trying to head back as a dozen rockets went into the mass of vehicles; within seconds he lost sight of the enemy and the whole terminal area of Bush Intercontinental Airport as massive explosions and smoke obliterated his entire view.
Charlie Meyers, leaned back against the rear gate of the bouncing truck, his head hurt like hell, but he had a broad smile on his face.
Chapter 9
The End of the Battle for Houston
The invasion of the U.S. by the rebels went downhill from there. With their three leaders gone and seventeen armed and deadly Chinese Zhi-10 helicopters, as well as every aircraft the Air Force could muster, blasting the remains of Houston’s Bush Intercontinental Airport twice that day, there wasn’t much the survivors could do.
Over two hundred powerful Chinese missiles, and dozens of napalm bombs rocked the entire airport down to rubble.
When the helicopters left, ten AC-130 gunships arrived and flattened what was left of the northern buildings and then began to crumble the southern cargo and terminal buildings. General Patterson was achieving good tests on the seven newly fitted Colombian gunships, and they were escorted into the attack by three of the remaining U.S. AC-130s.
Then the Tweets came in and added to the carnage, followed by the remaining F-4s and the two F-5s. Finally the helicopters on their second run six hours later, and just before dusk, destroyed anything left standing.
General Patterson, now flying Easy Girl, which had returned for him, watched for five hours overhead as the airport slowly crumbled under the force of the firepower going into it.
Any escaping rebels were beaten back or shot at by the advancing Marines from the north and the U.S. Army from the south. They had the entire area surrounded, were closing in fast and, orders had been given that none of these invaders were to survive.
Finally, the soldiers on the ground had to take a few rebels as prisoners, as dirty white Tee-shirts appeared on poles. The trickle began just before the helicopters came in for their second round and the wave of surrendering men to the south became a torrent as the final buildings of the airport disappeared.
“Well done to all pilots of the United States Air Force, civilian pilots, our country’s brave Marines and U.S. Army soldiers. I would especially like to thank the Navy’s Seal Team Six who bravely went in and cut off the head of the snake,” stated General Patterson two days later at the battle briefing at McConnell Air Force Base.
The president had arrived in Easy Girl, which had flown into Andrews to pick him up.
Every man or woman from the Air Force who had taken part in the attack was still on base, as were the commanders of all the ground troops, whose men were still mopping up. Civilian personnel under the command of Captain Mike Mallory had been arriving in the area for twenty-four hours, driving into Houston with the most amazing collection of old drivable vehicles one could imagine.
Massive columns of smoke, miles high could now be seen twenty miles from the airport’s grassy areas where large open pits a hundred yards long, fifty feet wide and thirty feet deep were being dug by military bulldozers, flown in under Jolly Green Giants, and piles of bodies were being cremated with napalm bombs dropped by helicopters.
Once the flames died down over the holes, one after the other was filled in. It would take nearly fifty of these trenches to bury the enemy’s dead.
“The “No-Go Law” is the name of the new law in effect as of today. The whole of the southern United States of America, south of Dallas and across the entire country,” continued General Patterson, “is to be completely locked down to anybody, except military personnel until further notice. Only those states that border the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans are excluded from this law. The same “No-Go Law” will apply in the northern areas, where people have already been relocated. All areas in a line across the country from Denver, Colorado, have the same new Martial Law applying to civilians. Only military personnel are to be allowed into these areas to patrol and secure these massive swaths of ground for our future generations. As you know, the latest and, hopefully last, attack on our country is over. But, we will not let our guard down; thankfully, our one and only satellite is back in place and giving us constant-feed pictures of the entire country, and two hundred miles out from all of our four borders. If the satellite had been in place a couple of weeks ago, we would have seen this attack coming.
Now, to bring you all up-to-date: the U.S. army is clearing San Antonio of 10,000 rebels which have held the city for over a week. The Marines are clearing the border area around Laredo, where the rebels entered and, anybody found in and around the border city is being picked up or shot.
“I spoke with the two generals now in charge of our armed forces, and a new Army/Air Force base will be built at every border town or city along our southern border. A maximum distance of 200 miles will separate each new base. Patrols by ground and air along our southern border will begin from today, 24/7, and we will never be blindsided by an attack from the south ever again. For your information, ladies and gentlemen, the enemy was a large army of rebels from several different countries. From our latest
figures compiled last night, we have counted 121,445 rebel bodies in the remains of the airport. We believe the final number will be around 160,000 in and around Houston’s Bush Intercontinental Airport alone. Many of these bodies have no identification on them, and we don’t know where they came from. As for prisoners of war, we have 7,780 men being held in the area, and they are doing most of the work cremating and burying their colleagues.
“We can add another 10,000 men in San Antonio, and we believe 5,000 in Laredo, where several have already retreated over the border into the hands of the Mexican army stationed there. We have been told from south of the border that the Mexican army had fought and followed this army from their southern border and were hungry to have a chance to attack the rebels. We killed over 21,000 in the first air attack on Interstate-10 and a further 19,000 on the Houston Beltway. All together, we destroyed an army of nearly 240,000 men, of which we believe more than 30,000 of the dead have been involved in terrorizing our internal and southern areas of Texas, Louisiana, and Arizona since January 1st. Our forces suffered as we do in any war. I would like to remember the brave who died in this struggle for freedom.”
General Patterson read out the names of the twelve pilots who lost their lives in the battles for Houston. Three of the eleven of Blue Moon’s crew hadn’t survived their horrific wounds, and the pilot of Preston’s P-38 all joined the names of the Air Force personnel read out. General Patterson also read out the names of 47 Marines killed in action and fifty-one U.S. Army soldiers. Over 200 soldiers were injured in the Battle for Houston. A minute of silence was observed for the dead.
“As a result of their attack on our country, the Calderón brothers have done us two favors,” he continued. “First, they returned our attention to defending our southern border and second, it helped us annihilate entire bands of internal rebels and bad actors we would have had to fight over the next few years to bring peace to our civilian population. Now, it is time for us to regroup and help our population of the United States of America to grow and become the nation it once was.” He sat down and Admiral Rogers took his place.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have the Calderón brothers in custody; we will get every bit of information from them and then send them back to Colombia for trial. Thanks to my team, who has already left for a bit of R and R, we have the best results to this fiasco we could ask for, and we will let you know the results of our interrogations at our next meeting in Washington. I now give you the President of The United States.”
The president walked up and stood there for a minute before speaking. “This country always astounds me with its people, their bravery in times of duress, the way we handle ourselves under pressure and the successful end-results we always seem to achieve. I want to thank every one of you for your help coming to the aid of your country. Every one of you has given all you could at every needed moment, and I thank you and feel so proud to be your president. Thank you so very much.”
Preston heard the speeches and felt for the victims, the pilots and men who hadn’t survived. He could have been in the seat of the P-38 when it exploded into the fireball; he could have been the co-pilot of Blue Moon. Both pilots and one engineer died in the explosion. Martie, Carlos, Sally and so many of his friends could have been the victims being remembered right now. Thinking about what had happened while listening to the speeches, he realized how lucky they had been. Martie was feeling better and now over her crash landing. She still limped a little and needed to be checked out at a hospital sometime soon, but she and his close friends were still alive and there was still so much work to do.
He felt tired and drained, like he had just gone through a nail-biting movie and it had finally come to an end. Martie was holding his hand and Carlos was sitting on his other side and next to Sally. For Sally, the Air Force was over for the time being. It was time to look after her parents and get the people she knew back on their feet.
“What do we do now for seven whole weeks? We have no more wars or orders!” Preston asked his friends as they stood outside the hangar where the briefing had taken place. “Do you guys realize that less than six months ago, we were having our fly-in at my farm in North Carolina?”
“It feels like a lifetime ago,” added Martie.
“I feel so old,” stated Sally. “I don’t want to see the inside of an aircraft cockpit for at least a month.”
“Well, you can have lover-boy Carlos chauffeur you around in his latest toy, whatever he has going for him at that moment, maybe his top open and cool DC-3?” Martie laughed.
“He can chauffeur me back to California,” stated Maggie. “I feel like I’ve been flying in my sleep I’m so tired.”
“I reckon we should go back to North Carolina, finish off the fly-in party, and extend it for another week; then we can get back to work, whatever work is in this new day and age,” added Preston.
They all felt bad for Preston, losing his beautiful P-38 Lightning. She had been a pure piece of history, and they had all wanted to fly her at one time or another.
“Well, let’s all grab our aircraft and fly back together to North Carolina,” suggested Carlos. “The Air Force can come and collect them when they want.”
They did just that. Carlos headed for his Mustang; his DC-3 was in California and was being flown by Buck. Buck was left orders to return to Preston’s farm when he arrived back the next day. Maggie, Sally Jennifer, Pam Wallace and Barbara headed for their Super Tweets, Preston and Martie for their Mustangs.
They flew back from McConnell non-stop in flight formation, and enjoyed the blue sky and the beautifully clear weather that Hurricane No-Name had left behind.
Chapter 10
What to Do Next?
For the next few days, the group’s aim was to relax and party at the farm. The crew at the farm was glad to see their friends return and the first thing Preston saw when he came into land was a new blue hole next to his house, behind his original hangar; a couple of small bodies were swimming around in it.
“We got a filter system from the Air Force and a large above ground pool cover which we placed in the hole!” stated Little Beth excitedly as the adults went over to view the completed make-shift swimming pool after they landed.
The temperature was hot, well over eighty degrees, when they had touched down, with the summer-shimmer of hot air over the tarmac at just before four in the afternoon, North Carolina time. The pool was basic, but nevertheless looked inviting. It was pretty deep, over five feet in the center, and thirty feet across. The filter had been wired up to the house generator and was pumping water into the pool from a piped filter unit which looked like a white, horizontal fountain. A small and simple electric motor sucked the water out of the pool and fed it through the new-looking pool filter.
“They even gave us some chemicals to keep it clear,” added Clint, smiling, dripping wet and standing, pretty strongly, next to Preston. He was already brown and contentment showed on his face, accentuated by a massive grin. Preston noticed that his own one and only bathing costume was being put to good use.
Several sun loungers had been set up on concrete bricks next to the pool, which was now a sun-deck and all of the older girls had waved as the aircraft had taxied in. The girls were all in bikinis and in total sunbathe-mode when the aircraft had arrived.
“I would prefer to stay here than at a Hilton Hotel,” laughed Martie getting a wet hug from Little Beth. “I think we have run out of ideas to add to this old place. It is beginning to look like vacation town.”
“You could call it Prestonville,” suggested Carlos being showered by Sally, dipping her hand into the make-shift fountain and spraying the hot pilots.
“Let’s get out of this flight gear and pour several cases of cold Yuenglings down our throats, while sitting in the pool. I think we need to commandeer the pool from the younger set,” suggested Preston heading for the house; flying was thirsty work in this heat.
He was still upset about the loss of his magical aircraft, the P-38
Lightning; it had been really hard watching it die in a fireball. It had cost thousands of hours of work and nearly a million dollars to perfect and, now it was in billions of pieces over southern Texas.
Carlos brought him out of his reminiscing by handing him a cold beer from the hangar. They popped the tops and drank thirstily.
“Let’s rest for a couple of days and then begin learning to fly a 747,” suggested Carlos, and that sounded pretty sweet to Preston. He had always wanted to get behind the controls of a 747, ever since his father had been murdered flying one decades earlier. “I need to get over to China to see the three satellites they have over there, we can take Mo Wang some good American Yuenglings and help out with the flying.”
“Sounds perfect to me,” replied Preston noticing that Mo seemed to be now completely forgiven by Carlos. “Martie will certainly want to come along and I’m sure Little Beth and Clint would enjoy the travel.”
“Well, Sally is on unpaid leave and doesn’t really want to go back to the Air Force just yet,” added Carlos taking a good chug of the ice-cold beverage. “And I‘m sure a few others would like to go and see China, especially Lee and his family; maybe also Mo’s niece, Lu, and her kids; and, I’m sure Beatrice would be keen.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Preston replied seeing Joe and David in a jeep heading down the runway towards the house.
Joe and David were welcomed by the crowd and as they were passed beers an aircraft could be heard approaching.
“I hope another war hasn’t started!” sighed Preston as Easy Girl came into view from the west. She lazily turned in from the southwest over Jordan Lake and touched down a couple of minutes later. Everybody watched her slow approach, slightly worried that something new had started, as she taxied onto one of the aprons abreast of the new runway. Preston’s old apron was still full of aircraft, so many that it looked like a military air show.