“Any indication that he was thinking about calling the whole thing off?” Winfield asked.
“I don’t think that’s in the cards. think he is considering letting the Florida governor know about the raid just shortly before it happens. That way the governor can’t say he wasn’t informed.”
“That’s just bullshit. He doesn’t care what the damn governor knows or doesn’t know. Telling him just makes our job that much more dangerous,” Ascot said angrily.
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just telling you what he said.”
“Sorry but it’s just stupid. We hurried up to get everything in place and how we are just sitting on our thumbs waiting for him to make up his mind. It’s not just stupid but it’s dangerous as well,” Ascot said.
“I guess you could always call him up and tell him that?” Erickson said with a slight smile on his lips.
“You know sometimes you’re an ass,” Ascot said to Erickson.
He just laughed causing Ascot to become even more irritated.
***
“Mr. President we need to just do this. Waiting will only increase the chance that the media will get word of it,” Hanna Cole said.
“I appreciate that Ms. Cole but once we commit to this course of action there is no going back.”
“Why would we want to? They are the ones who put the gun to our heads by not obeying orders, your orders as their Commander-in-Chief. No subordinate can be allowed to get away with that. Once you show them that you mean business, the others will fall into line. This has to be done for the integrity of the entire military force,” she said.
“Yes. Yes, I understand all of that but General Winfield hit a nerve when he said he never thought he would be asked to kill other Americans. These aren’t foreign insurgents. Right or wrong they are still Americans,” the President said.
“So you're saying we should just roll over and bury our heads in the sand and pretend it never happened? Somehow I don’t see that as showing not only America but the rest of the world that we will never back down from making hard decisions.”
“I am not backing down. Christ, aren’t you concerned about the backlash from attacking our own forces?”
“Concerned? Yes, but it has to be done. I don’t like it any more than you do but it has to be done for the good of the nation. You cannot have military leaders second guessing your decisions. If you had reason to go to war with another country could you have them second guess you?”
“That’s different.”
“How? How is that different? War is war no matter who the enemy is.”
“Ms. Cole the difference is that they are Americans above all else.”
“Then call the damn thing off before someone finds about it.”
The President sat at his desk, looking at the pictures on the wall. What a mess. Why couldn’t they have just followed orders or surrendered to the MP’s that were sent to get them. This would all be over now. He would be the first American President to order a strike against his own troops. What in the hell will history say about that, he wondered?
Finally he looked over at the Secretary of State and said, “You are right. We need to go forward or call the whole damn thing off. I will call General Erickson and let him know of my decision,” he said.
“What are you going to tell him?” she asked.
“To commence the operation.”
***
“Son of a bitch. He is actually going through with it,” Erickson said after he hung up the phone.
The room was totally silent as each man absorbed the message that had just been delivered. It was no longer speculation. They were being ordered to attack an American air base filled with American soldiers on American soil.
“Okay, I guess we need to get everything in motion. The plan calls for us to begin our opening attack at 0400 hours. We all have a lot to do before then. I suggest we get started,” General Ascot said.
“God help us,” General Winfield responded.
“I second that,” Admiral Swanson added.
***
The phone rang only once before it was answered.
“Scrambled?”
“Scrambled.”
“Word is that the strike is set for 0400.”
“We’re as ready as we can be. Everything has been moved to a secure place unless the attack is widespread. Then we may have some problems.
“Nothing you can do about that at this point in time. My people will certainly give them a shock.”
“Amblin has his people in place as well. He called a few minutes ago.”
“Then there is nothing more we can do until 0400.”
“Good luck Admiral.”
“God be with you and your men and women, Colonel Fox.”
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Thirty-five pilots sat in the large overstuffed chairs. At the front of the room was a huge picture of Eglin Air Force Base.
“Colonel Walters wing will come straight in over the water right up the main runway 01 and veer to the right. You will see a large pad that will have several C-130s and just in front of them will be F-15s. Your mission is to destroy any and all planes on the ground in that vicinity. You will then proceed north to Duke Air Field where more C-130s will be on the pad. Those are you targets as well,” he said, tracing the route to the secondary target.
“Colonel Stockton will bring his wing in directly behind Colonel Walters. Your job is to do as much damage as possible to the 01 runway and adjoining taxi strip. You will then proceed north to Duke and destroy their landing strip and taxiway as well.”
Once again he pointed to the area on the large map. Pilots were taking notes and listening intently. This was the real thing.
“Now,” he said, “Major Phillips will take his group and penetrate straight down runway 12. Maximum damage to the runways, taxiways, and any subsequent roads or strips that can be used for planes are to be destroyed. You will then form up and attack the hardened bunkers located here,” the briefing officer said, pointing to the large area in the V between the two main air strips.
“We have the element of surprise. We have the firepower and we have the best pilots in the fleet. There is no reason for us not to succeed in our missions. I know you have questions about the target and probably their air defenses but I’m going to turn that part over to Admiral Jean Swanson from Pensacola.
Admiral Swanson was a tall woman with steel gray hair that was cut short. If she had on makeup it wasn’t noticeable. She wore low cut black military shoes and had no jewelry of any kind.
“I know that this is a hell of a thing that we are being asked to do. I’m sure none of you ever thought you would be involved in such a mission. None of us did,” she said. Her voice was more husky than most had expected.
“This is one time I wish I was doing anything but directing this mission. However, we did not make this situation. We did not refuse to follow direct orders given by the Commander-in-Chief. The people at Eglin were offered a chance to leave with no repercussions. The Commanding Officer, Colonel Fox, was offered a chance to surrender his command but refused once again to follow direct orders,” she said looking out at the men and women.
She paused for a few seconds before continuing.
“I have a close cousin that is stationed at Eglin. I do not know if he stayed or left. Some of my own family members do not understand how I could direct such an operation. Believe me I have lost many a night's sleep over this day.”
She was pacing back in forth with her hands behind her back. They could see the strain on her face.
“Here is what I do know. For any nation to be protected by the government, the military must be structured so that commanders cannot question orders every time they disagree. The very essence of a strong military is the willingness to carry out directives handed down from those with a much larger view of the picture. No military can condone the Commander-in-Chief’s orders being disobeyed at an officer’s discretion. Think about that a
minute. Can you imagine what D-day would have been like if General Eisenhower had given the command to go and several others said ‘Well Ike old man, it’s a tad brisk and I hate getting wet. I’ll take my men in at a later date’,” she said in a false British voice.
A ripple of laughter ran through the room.
“Crazy isn’t it. But in essence that is what Colonel Fox did. He simply said, I have my orders but I’m not going to obey them. That’s when I decided that this could not be allowed to go on. We are the United States military and we are united in our resolve to defeat all obstacles that stand in our way. Eglin Air Force Base is that obstacle this time. We must show that we are but one military under the direction of the Commander-in-Chief,” she said.
It was totally quiet in the room again. She ran her hand across her brow and looked back out at them.
“I have faith that you will perform your duty to the best of your ability. Thank you for being a part of the United States military forces,” she said and nodded to the briefing officer.
No one clapped or made a sound. They were more or less stunned by her words. Most didn’t know what to do, should they clap or...what?
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
By 0400 pilots were strapped into their planes. The USS Harry S. Truman had turned into the wind and was making thirty-two knots. The Air Boss was on station with his crew. Alert five was already in place as the pilots went through the mental checklist one last time before launch.
The first F-15 was already in the box, the area where the catapults are attached by the air crew. The rest were on the ‘street’ and ‘six pack’, the double row just behind the blast shields. The shuttle was placed under the F-15 and the holdback was attached to the tail hook area. The deck was swarming with deck crew in their yellow shirts.
The ballet started as men scrambled in controlled chaos. Once the plane was ready to be catapulted down the flight deck the catapult officer gave his final set of hand signals. The plane was brought to full power, the cat officer made one last check of the flight deck for safety then dropped down and the plane went from zero to one hundred and sixty in two seconds.
The Truman was using a new electrometric air launch system (EMALS) which was entirely different from the older steam piston driven catapults. The first four planes launched without incident but the fifth was a cold shot. The plane did not obtain sufficient speed to launch and slid into the ocean. The crew ejected as soon as it was apparent they did not have sufficient speed.
Nothing could be done. The 100,000 ton carrier takes over a mile to stop so they kept on going. Choppers were already in the air as part of the pre-launch so within minutes they were searching for the pilots.
“What the hell happened,” the Catapult Officer bellowed but no one could really hear. Operations were shifted to catapults two and four while the problem with one was being investigated.
A different type of ballet was being played by the ships that had escort duty for the aircraft carrier. Their function is to protect the carrier at all cost. They also assist in locating pilots who have crashed on takeoff or landing.
Admiral Swanson was on the bridge of the carrier watching the proceedings on the flight deck. She saw the F-15 drop over the bow of the ship. She gave a silent prayer that the pilots were safe.
“Admiral,” the communications officer said, running up to her.
“Yes?”
“Admiral we just received this communication,” he said and handed it to her.
She quickly read it and then stopped and looked at the officer.
“This is real?”
“By all appearances,” he said nervously.
She looked down at the communication again trying to decide what she should do. She read it one last time.
TO: ADMIRAL J. SWANSON
FROM: COMMAND OFFICER, USS ANNAPOLIS SSN-760
You are to halt all flight operations immediately. Failure to comply will result in a strike upon the USS Harry S. Truman. This is not a drill. You are to cease operations and recall all aircraft. You have two minutes to start the recovery procedure.
“Admiral?”
“I’m thinking.”
“But we only have two minutes to comply.”
She stood there pulling at her chin.
“Marcus,” she finally yelled. The XO came over from the navigation station.
“Problem?” he asked.
She handed him the note.
“What the hell? They are going to launch a strike against the Truman if we don’t comply. Are they crazy?”
“No more crazy than we are in their minds.”
“What the hell are we going to do?”
“Recall the planes,” she said at last.
“But we have orders to attack. What about that?”
“We will recover the planes but keep everyone at the ready. Call the Air Boss and tell him to bring them home,” she said.
The XO couldn’t believe what he was hearing. One of the most lethal ships in the world was being dictated to.
Admiral Swanson picked up the scrambled phone and called the Secretary of Navy. She explained the situation and was told to wait while he conferred with the President.
It seemed like hours before he came back on line.
“The President said to continue with the operations immediately.”
“But sir. They know we are coming. There is no element of surprise. Did you tell him this came from a ‘boomer’? The Annapolis is out there ready to blow us the hell out of the water,” she said.
“Admiral the President is aware that the USS Annapolis is a submarine. He also understands that the element of surprise has been lost. His orders remain the same. You are to carry out your mission.”
“Sir. Do you agree with his assessment?”
“That is not the issue Admiral.”
“With all due respect sir. You are telling me that you approve of the plan and that you are willing to sacrifice this ship and almost six thousand men and women. You are alright with this order?”
“Those are my orders Admiral. I suggest you get on with it immediately.”
“Mr. Secretary this is crazy,” she said but he had already hung up.
The XO was looking at her intently.
“We are to resume the attack,” she told him.
“All I can say is that I hope the Annapolis is bluffing and won’t try to sink the ship.
“Call the Air Boss. Resume launch,” she said and when and sat down in the Captain’s Chair and called CDC.
“CDC.”
“This is the Admiral. Give me CDC commander.”
“Combat Directions Center.”
“Where is the USS Annapolis right this minute?”
“Uh...the Annapolis?”
“Yes. You know the big black thing that is getting ready to shoot us out of the water? I would just like to know where the missiles will be coming from,” she said.
“I...I...We show nothing. It is totally clean on every screen.”
“Of course it is. Nice working with you,” she said and hung up.
***
“Captain, they have commenced air launches again.”
“Thank you.”
“Weapons. Ready four Harpoon missiles.”
“Aye, Captain.”
“Notify me when you are ready to launch.”
“Can you believe this?” the XO said.
“I feel sorry for the Admiral. I’m sure she called to see if they could stand down but apparently she was overridden.”
“Nuts. There are almost six thousand men and women and billions of dollars’ worth of equipment. He has to know that the jig is up and they are surprising no one.”
“Apparently it doesn’t matter. Hell, he is safe back in the White House. What the hell does he care about six thousand Navy and Airmen?”
“Harpoons are ready Captain.”
“Lock us in.”
“Locked and ready.”
“Have the Coyote’s ready. Once
we launch they will try to get a fix on us.”
“We are cocked and locked.”
***
The anti-missile system is ready Admiral.”
“I should hope so. We won’t have much time. The radar range on the Phalanx Cannons is only around two kilometers.”
“Sound battle stations.”
“All hands man your battle stations. Man your battle stations. This is not a drill,” the speakers screamed and the wailing of a siren seemed to get the urgency of the situation across.
A few minutes later the XO said, “All hands at battle stations. Watertight integrity is established. Weapons reports they are ready and standing by.”
“Then there is nothing more we can do at this point. Until they launch we don’t know what direction they are coming from. The minute we do, I want to turn into them at flank speed,” she ordered.
“Aye, Aye,” came the tense reply.
***
“They have launched all air craft, Captain.”
“Aye. Send a burst transmission to Eglin. Coming.”
“Yes sir.”
“Weapons. On my mark.”
“Aye Captain.”
He looked over at the XO one more time.
“What the hell. They launched. It was their choice,” he said.
“Probably not but it makes no difference,” he said and keyed the microphone.
“Fire.”
“Four away skipper.”
“Acknowledge.”
“ATA has acquired the target.”
“Acknowledged the automatic target acquisition has locked on target.”
***
The phone rang and the Admiral grabbed it.
“Four inbound. 160 degrees, 100 kilometers and closing.”
“Type?”
“Harpoon.”
“Come to 160 degrees, all ahead flank. I want everything this tub can make and I want it now,” she said.
The ship did a hard over right turn and came to 160 degrees. The massive screws were churning to dig into the water and move the giant ship forward at maximum speed.
A NATION DIVIDED - THE SECOND CIVIL WAR (The Second Civil War - BOOK I 1) Page 18