Fractured Nation

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Fractured Nation Page 7

by Kurt Winans


  With that Victoria smiled while lessoning her grip and put the man at ease. She replied, “Well now. That is how a proper Texas gentleman shows respect for his hosts through an apology, and I gladly accept it as such. Your parents must have raised you correctly sir, and if they were alive today, they would be proud of you for what you have just conveyed.”

  For an instant Mr. Fisk wondered how Victoria Tillman could possibly know that his parents were dead, and that he had served in the military, but he didn’t inquire. The young man realized that he had no desire to underestimate her knowledge of events ever again.

  Then his host Mr. Tillman spoke up by asking, “Now then, can we all have a cool drink and get down to the business at hand before many of our other guests and their young children arrive?”

  Victoria replied, “That is an excellent idea Samuel, but I must bid you all a temporary farewell. I need to go over a few things with Ms. Holloway, as the catering group we have hired should be here soon. Perhaps you and the gentlemen can retire to your office to discuss business. I’m sure that you all have many things to cover about various aspects of the plan, and that may take some time.”

  Samuel nodded with agreement, and motioned for his three guests to follow him into his office. Then after closing the door, he began what would become a lengthy conversation by saying to his old friend, “You have done well number thirty one, and I once again thank you for your continued efforts.”

  Ever conscious of security measures, he responded without the use of a numbered identity. Instead, number thirty one merely stated, “Anything for the cause Samuel.”

  With another nod, Samuel turned toward the men who had accompanied his old friend and stated, “So number thirty one informs me that both of you received your initial instruction while attending Texas A&M, and that you have since developed an excellent skill set when it comes to flying helicopters. This morning’s flight over Austin was just the beginning, as your collective skills can and will be of meaningful use to our cause. I’m pleased to say that the vetting process for each of you is complete, and both of you have passed with no issue. Therefore Mr. Capra and Mr. Fisk if you will accept, on behalf of those in the organization I welcome you to the party.”

  Savanah and a few of her friends who came with their parents to the big celebration barbeque were having a wonderful time splashing about in the pool. The doctors had conveyed to her parents Kyle and Ashley, as well as the rest of the family, that time in the pool with the stretching and exercise was good for Savanah. With that in mind, the family had given Savanah every opportunity to get in the water during the warmer months of the year. However with the sun sinking low and becoming one with the western horizon on this hot and humid late evening, the time had come for her to change into dry clothes and watch some of the many fireworks shows.

  Beyond what could be viewed on the giant holographic screen in the family room of fireworks extravaganzas in the eastern megacities of Boston, New York, Philadelphia, and of course Washington D.C., Savanah was excited for what was to come. Her grandparents had promised her a good show right here on the family ranch, and they had never failed to keep a promise to her. During the dazzling shows on the screen, Savanah listened to the opinions of the adults in the room. They spoke of how each of the first three cities had played an important role in the birth of America, and therefore had earned the right to celebrate her two hundred fiftieth birthday on this July day of 2026. She also heard them speak of how Washington D.C., as the capitol city of America, had not earned that same right. Their collective thought was that many of those working within the elected government structure and multilayered entangled bureaucracy of Washington D.C. had done more to destroy the concept of America in recent times than to help improve upon the many problems that existed. Although Savanah certainly didn’t understand the finer details of all that was being discussed, or the definition of many words that had been tossed about, one thing was abundantly clear to the bright young lady. Each and every adult at the party had nothing good to say about what went on in the nation’s capital.

  A Soviet made MIL MI-8 HIP-C helicopter that Samuel had arranged to purchase during his visit to Nuevo Laredo had begun a revival to its former glory just a few days after his initial meeting with Mr. & Mrs. Flores. As the fuselage measured only inches short of sixty feet in length, the bird had been brought across the border into Laredo and northward on interstate-35 toward Austin by use of a huge flatbed truck and accompanying “wide load” pace vehicles. After retrieving the helicopter from a surplus field near Monterrey, the spectacle viewed by hundreds at the border crossing had been interesting, yet tedious. The height of the fuselage at more than eighteen feet had posed a problem, so the landing gear tripod needed to be removed before she could be loaded onto the truck. With the five overhead rotor blades and three tail rotor blades also removed for transport in a separate truck with that landing gear, the MIL MI-8 HIP-C took on a completely different appearance. She suddenly looked more like a huge pale guppy than some form of military aircraft. Even so, the officials from the United States customs and border control had taken an inordinate amount of time searching through the fuselage with drug sniffing dogs. Much to their collective dismay, they found nothing within. It was in their nature to assume that something of that size must be used for hiding drugs or other illegal contraband while crossing the border, and in most cases they probably would have been correct, but Samuel had no such intentions. The helicopter had been purchased legally under a falsified name, and Samuel had the bill of sale and proper identification to prove it. Beyond the fake identity, the cover story created for customs officials, and anyone else who might be inquisitive, was actually true. The helicopter, if refurbished to operational readiness in time, would become part of a grand aerial showcase over Austin for the July fourth celebration. If not, then she would become one of many military aircraft on the ground that people could view and photograph. The intent of this particular helicopter was to acknowledge the Mexican American influence and citizenship that existed within Texas and the aircraft would be painted in military colors for the event.

  Work crews had taken five weeks at a feverish around the clock pace to complete the refurbishing, but she was ready in time. Every inch of the mainframe, both of the engine compartments, and the flight deck instrument panel had been disassembled and inspected by a team of men and women. Then each part was cleaned, repaired, or replaced by newly manufactured parts as they were put back together again. The landing tripod had been inspected for structural integrity and necessary repairs were performed, while the old rotor blades, both overhead and on the tail section, had all been replaced with new ones.

  Made ready for test flights only days before the July fourth celebration, the bird had performed well. Then while in formation with other vintage aircraft, she had been flown by Mr. Capra over the University of Texas and the Capitol Complex in Austin during the festivities. In the course of doing so, he and his co-pilot Mr. Fisk had an excellent overhead view of the empty Darrell K. Royal–Texas Memorial Stadium and the playing field. Such an opportunity provided them with valuable perspective.

  Now in mid-August, the MIL MI-8 HIP-C had since been stripped down of any unwanted weight within to hopefully create a slight increase in speed and fuel efficiency. Repainted in a special pattern of red, white, and blue to resemble the Texas state flag, the helicopter had been flown out to the training facility with logos for the fictitious “West Texas Skydiving School” emblazoned upon each side panel door.

  Throughout a large portion of that restoration process and subsequent transformation into its present state, Kyle had been working on another special assignment. From nearly the moment after the delivery and inspection of the weapons that had been brought into the gulf by the Madura, he had begun what was thought to be a difficult task. Although challenging and time consuming in the research phase, Kyle was to locate and procure additional aircraft that would be needed to compliment the role of the refurbished heli
copter. The task eventually proved to be far less than impossible, as while scouring potential sources throughout the nation he had come across something useful in the Orange County area of southern California. There were several small jets, similar in size to that of the Tillman Gulfstream G280, which had been repossessed by banks from those who had failed to maintain the payments. Kyle had learned from his studies of the human endeavor that some people were known to be extremely vain, so such occurrences weren’t a surprise to him. Those people who fit that mold were always attempting to outdo their friends and neighbors in order to maintain a level of self-worth, and as a result, some had become overextended financially. Such habits had created an opportunity that Kyle could exploit, as he learned of an early August auction in that portion of the country at the Chino Airport in neighboring Riverside County. The auction would have a selection of high end vehicles, boats, and most importantly, planes.

  After notifying Samuel of the discovery, they took a trip west for the auction. Arriving separately to the event, they had each assumed the cover of business men from different locations. While one supposedly hailed from Atlanta and the other from Chicago, the common thread between the supposed strangers was that both they and their families loved skiing in western Colorado. Therefore it was completely understandable for those representing the auction process that each of them would be interested in purchasing a plane for direct access use to the airport near Aspen. Two identical Cessna Citation Latitude jet planes that were slightly smaller than the Gulfstream G280 were purchased with cash, so another aspect of the plan had come together. Each of the used planes were capable of comfortably carrying a flight crew of two and eight passengers, while the fuel range and flight maneuverability of the small jets would be more than adequate for the task ahead.

  Ten days before the MIL MI-8 HIP-C had been painted and on its way to the training facility, Samuel rented a car for the short drive to the Chino Airport from the John Wayne Orange County Airport. Then with the two vetted pilots that he had pulled from a group of recruits, he and Kyle rode shotgun in the co-pilot seats of each Citation Latitude as they were flown from the southern California area to Aspen Colorado. While in the course of that action, the Tillman family plane that had deposited the group of four in Orange County, headed east for another rendezvous. When the newly purchased planes reached Aspen, where they would remain until needed, another car was rented for the purpose of a scouting road trip. If anyone had bothered to pay close enough attention, the four within could have potentially been identified as a father and his three adult children. While acting as tourists, they followed the twisting mountain highway-82 to the east over Independence Pass at slightly more than twelve thousand feet. After descending into a valley region, they rolled south through the small towns of Granite and Buena Vista before reaching Poncha Springs. From there they turned east onto highway-50 for the journey through Canon City, and stopped soon after to have a detailed look around. Feeling satisfied in what they had taken note of; they continued east to exit the last of the rolling foothills and onto the plains as they closed on Pueblo.

  After turning in the rental car at the Pueblo Memorial Airport, they boarded the Tillman Gulfstream G280 that had arrived several hours earlier and headed for Texas. As Samuel, Kyle, and the two female pilots had been dropped off and retrieved by the family plane at different airports than those of the flight plan for either of the newly purchased Cessna’s, there would be no cause for the FAA or any other governing body to believe that the travel of the three planes were somehow related.

  As another weekend of grand celebrations were taking place all across the nation, the men and women at the training facility continued to hone their respective crafts. The women had been running miles each day both on the flatlands surrounding the facility, and on nearby Bird Mountain via a lift from the helicopter. As a consequence, they were in better physical shape than when they had arrived. Additionally, each of them had continued to practice their hand to hand combat and martial arts techniques, while also learning some basic medical skills in the event they were needed. The group of twenty that had been assigned to be evenly split between the two eastern sites had arrived at the training facility on July seventh, and had been joined by five others in the late days of August. Those five most recent arrivals had been recruited for missions that although less lengthy, contained more complexities than what would be required of their sisters in the east. Unlike the drivers back east who would mainly be used for the retrieval of the attacking forces and their subsequent safe return to Texas, the drivers for the singular western assault had mission assignments both before and after the day of attack.

  Three black suburban’s would need to be driven from Amarillo to various locations throughout Colorado, Kansas, and New Mexico during the days surrounding the impending attack, with two of those women drivers being called upon to impersonate government officials on a least one occasion. Recruited solely for their skills as jet pilots, the final two women had a more dangerous task ahead of them. As such they focused on little else than increased physical fitness to assist with that task, and how their flying skills could be best utilized. That personal quest was aided by intense study of various maps which detailed the exacting terrain for their upcoming flights.

  Although offered to receive time off from her labors for the holiday weekend as she was the only one with a husband and children, the eldest of the now twenty-five women had declined. Having been designated as their leader, she felt that it would have been an unfair advantage over the others to escape the late summer heat of west Texas for a few days. More significantly, accepting such favoritism would have also delivered a poor message to the collective that could upset the balance of team unity.

  A minimal addition to the forty-two men of the assault teams were Mr. Capra and Mr. Fisk, but like the pilots who had joined the group of women, their mindset was also of a singular focus. Beyond that belief was an exception to their training that would set them apart from the other newcomers. The two helicopter pilots had been informed that they would also embark on a refresher course with regard to the art of parachuting to safety. Although both had performed numerous jumps during the training and military service of yesteryear, neither had utilized such a skill for several years. It was hoped that said action wouldn’t be required within the body of the plan, but if for some reason one or both of them needed to bailout, refreshing them on how to do so seemed prudent.

  When Mr. Fisk then asked, “Why aren’t the women who will fly the jets be going through the course with us?”

  The lead recruiter at the facility replied, “Because they won’t have any parachutes to jump with.”

  In a reply of obvious puzzlement, he asked, “They won’t, why not?”

  “Well think about it Mr. Fisk. The flight status of the ladies is quite different from that of you and Mr. Capra. Most of your flying will be pre-mission during the training stage, and then the repositioning and delivery of the western attack force. With yourself included in the equation, you will be carrying a valuable set of assets on every flight. Should the helicopter develop mechanical problems or failure while doing so; the safety of those assets must be protected. As the attacking air personnel will always have parachutes for those training jumps and flights, it only makes sense that you do as well. In short, we can perhaps replace the helicopter with a back-up, but those of the attacking force or the pilots that will deliver them are more of a challenge.”

  After a moment of contemplation Mr. Fisk replied, “Alright, I understand your point, but what about during the mission? Won’t the two women pilots have parachutes then?”

  “No they won’t. But if it’s any comfort to you Mr. Fisk, you won’t have one during the mission either.”

  Knowing that none of them could be taken alive, Mr. Fisk suddenly realized why he wouldn’t have a parachute during the mission. If the helicopter were to be shot down by an opposing force, then he and all hands on board would perish in the act.


  With knowledge that the training aspects of the air and ground personnel were firmly under control, and with his son Mason spending much of his time in west Texas under the tutelage of number thirty one, Samuel took the opportunity to offer Courtney a special mission of her own. He had seen something within his daughter-in-law that led him to believe she was capable, but he didn’t taint Courtney’s decision process by providing her with that insight. Samuel informed her only that if she accepted the challenge, and he wanted her to take a few days to sufficiently ponder over that decision, then there would be no turning back. Her training for the mission, although just as physically and mentally demanding, would be separate from all of the other recruits. The content of her assignment in various locations would be dealt with in complete secrecy. No one other than Courtney, Samuel, and number twenty three as a contact would know anything about her mission parameters from the moment of her initial briefing on through and beyond the execution of those tasks.

  Now fully immersed in his senior year as a first classman at West Point, Jason Tillman was enjoying the privileges of being one of the more highly ranked cadets within the corps. Via assistance throughout the previous spring from Kevin Flores before he had graduated as a Battalion Commander, and with the recommendations that were put forth by him in Jason’s name, Jason had advanced in rank to the level of being awarded the occasional special favor. Based on not having abused that opportunity since receiving said latitude, and as his one and only request for such a privilege was different than most with a similar opportunity, it was granted without much question. Firing the pre-game salute from the cannon next to Lusk Reservoir at the final home football game of his senior year was Jason’s desire, and so it would be.

 

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