by D F Capps
“There’s nothing to defend them from,” Andrews said forcefully. “Russia is not going to attack Europe.”
Farnsworth shook his head. “They will. This has been Russia’s plan all along: to take Europe.”
“I am giving you a direct order. Withdraw all military assets and personnel from Europe, now,” Andrews said. His stomach tightened as the tension escalated.
General McHenry, Commander of the Army Forces Command stood and faced Andrews. “Sir, with all due respect, I cannot, and will not follow such an obviously illegal order. We are contractually bound to defend all NATO countries, and I will not shirk that responsibility.”
Andrews stared into McHenry’s eyes. “Are you refusing my direct order?”
McHenry glanced away. “It’s an illegal order, sir. I have every right to refuse to follow it.”
Andrews turned to an Army MP.
“Major, arrest General McHenry for refusing to obey a direct order.”
The major nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The Army major walked over to General McHenry and placed him in handcuffs.
“General McHenry, you are under arrest for insubordination and refusing to obey a direct order.”
“You can’t do this,” General McHenry said. “The order is clearly illegal.”
Andrews placed his fists on his hips. “Answer me this, General. Which NATO country has been attacked?” General McHenry stood silent and stared at Andrews. “Our obligation within NATO is to defend any and all NATO members who have been, or are being, attacked. We have no obligation, legal or otherwise, until an attack actually takes place. My order is legal on its face. Will you, or will you not, obey my direct order, General?”
McHenry stiffened, defiance in his posture.
“I stand by my position that this is an illegal order, which I am legally justified in refusing, sir.”
Andrews shook his head slightly. “You may argue that defense at your court martial. Take him to the brig.”
The MP removed General McHenry from the Situation Room.
“Who’s next?” Andrews asked, trying to sound as bold and in control as he could. He stood firm and stared at the remaining military officers in the room. This is the moment, he thought. Either they back down, or I have a full-fledged mutiny on my hands.
Marine Corp General Parsinian stood. “Sir, what are your plans when Russia invades Europe?”
Andrews turned to address Admiral Dosinski. “Admiral, does the Navy have sufficient resources in place to neutralize a Russian attack on any European country?”
Dosinski leaned forward. “Yes, sir, per your order, we have all the cruise missiles we would need in submarines off the coast of Europe and in the Mediterranean.”
Andrews glanced at Parsinian and then looked at Dosinski. “Are these forces in Europe?”
Dosinski shook his head. “No, sir. All of our submarines are in international waters.”
Andrews turned to face Parsinian. He needed to see his reaction.
“Admiral, is it your understanding that an order that covers all of Europe would not apply to our submarines in international waters?”
Parsinian tightened his lips and stared at Dosinski.
“Such an order would not apply, sir.”
General Parsinian glanced around the room and returned his gaze to the president.
“Sir, the United States Marine Corp stands ready to follow your orders to the letter, sir.”
“Thank you, General.” Thank God, Andrews thought. He then turned to the second in command of the army. “General Lansdale, are you prepared to withdraw all military assets and personnel from European bases and locations?”
Lansdale stood and glanced around the room. “I am, sir.”
Andrews nodded. “You are hereby promoted to Commanding General of the United States Army Forces Command. I expect to see equipment and soldiers being removed within the hour. Are we clear?”
Lansdale stood at attention. “Yes, sir, perfectly clear.”
“Sir,” Secretary of Defense Farnsworth said. “This is a very ill-advised and dangerous move on your part. You need to seriously consider the consequences of what you are doing.”
Andrews turned to face Farnsworth, thinking, This is a threat, and not a well veiled one at that. “Need I remind you that you serve at the pleasure of this office?”
“No, sir,” Farnsworth replied. His hands were trembling slightly.
“Then begin withdrawing our military forces, now.”
Andrews stared firmly into Farnsworth’s eyes, who looked away as he answered, “Yes, sir.”
Andrews breathed a sigh of relief as he and Franks, his chief of staff, left the Situation Room and walked swiftly to the elevator.
“There will be reprisals,” Franks said.
Andrews glanced behind them to make sure they were alone.
“Are we recording everything that takes place in the Situation Room?”
The expression on Franks’s face was determined but grim. He understood the risk involved. “We are. You can view it in the Secret Service office.”
Andrews was still feeling the adrenalin rush from the meeting when he said, “Then let’s go see who’s plotting against us.”
* * *
Andrews and Franks arrived at the Secret Service security office three minutes later.
“As you suspected, sir, Farnsworth, Lansdale, and General Tessier of the Air Force are conferring quietly in the corner of the room. They’re whispering, so we’re going to have to enhance the sound to get a clear record of what’s being said. But, from what I’ve heard so far, their opinion is that you need to be replaced.”
Of course, Andrews thought. “Any hints at how they plan to do that?”
“No, sir,” Secret Service Agent James said. He looked up at Andrews, concern etched into his expression.
“Okay, I want all of them under long-range surveillance—nothing they can see—and put all their communications on full monitored status.”
James nodded in acknowledgement.
“They have to figure all their electronic devices will be monitored,” Franks said. “I don’t think we’ll get anything that way.”
Andrews put his right index finger over his mouth as he thought. He lowered his hand then said, “Agreed. I’m more interested in seeing if there’s a change in their communications habits. That’ll tell me more than their carefully selected words might reveal.”
“Pull all recorded communications for those three from the last six months,” Franks told Agent James, the head of the president’s Secret Service detail. “We’re looking for small variations. They’re too smart to make sudden and noticeable changes.”
Chapter 36
Who could it be? Rosaq wondered. The speed and maneuverability of the craft attacking the scout saucer indicated off world interference, but who would be that bold? Earth human technology wasn’t capable of anything near this level of sophistication, so it had to be an outside force. But even with the dozen or so civilizations Rosaq was familiar with, none of them could prevent the weapon system from locking onto the targets. That hadn’t happened in eons.
Rosaq realized that whoever this new enemy was it was dangerous. From the data, only six craft were involved in the incident. Maybe that’s all there are. What if it were some rogue group? There were certainly some of them around, but they usually steered clear of the Zeta Greys. Plus, no one was able to defeat the weapon lock system. That was tried and true technology—had been for thousands of years. Why was it failing now?
Rosaq took the next logical step. Whatever it cost in scout saucers and pilots, recovering one or more of these enemy craft, preferably with its crew, was imperative.
* * *
Diane and the rest of Squadron One were eating dinner when the next scramble alarm sounded.
“Saucer intrusion! Saucer intrusion!” came over the PA system.
They ran for the elevators and from there to their ready rooms. With flight suits
on and helmets in hand they hopped into their fighter craft and took their positions on the flight deck.
“Single saucer intrusion over the Pacific Ocean,” Hollis said. “Target is heading east at high speed, toward L.A. at this time. They will be expecting you, so be careful out there.”
He hit the large button and the blast door slid into the ceiling.
They flew east off of the flight deck and hooked left into a westerly flight path, keeping close to the ground as they skimmed over the low mountains of Arizona.
“Target acquisition in sixty seconds,” Ryan said.
The familiar adrenaline rush sharpened Diane’s mind and amplified her senses.
“Something feels strange,” Hellcat said. “I don’t know what it is. I can’t describe it.”
Diane could feel it, too. “Commence jinking,” she said. “Bumping to next comm frequency.” She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
“Six bandits just appeared behind us,” Ryan shouted, using the military slang for enemy aircraft.
“Break, break,” Diane said—the command to break formation and scatter. She broke left and down, clipping treetops as she followed the slope of a mountain.
“I now count ten bandits, two behind us,” Ryan said. “They’re not firing at us.”
“They can’t get a weapon lock with the random jinking. They’re going to have to aim and shoot manually. Sharp ridge coming up, hang on!”
As she flew over the ridge she continued up for a second instead of following the downward slope of the mountain. One scout saucer trailed her up while the other took the downward path of the rocky slope. Diane jammed the control stick full forward, looping down and back, now upside down at the lower scout saucer. She fired the twin cannons, hitting the lower saucer with one shot, the other beam a near miss. She continued her tight vertical circle coming up under and behind the higher saucer.
The other scout saucer made a ninety degree turn to the right, trying to get away. She banked hard and pushed the thruster control higher, thinking, Oh no you don’t. She closed in on the scout saucer. Right again, her intuition whispered. She banked right an instant before the scout saucer made another sharp right turn. She fired both cannons instinctively, hitting the saucer dead center with both beams. The saucer tilted and fell to the ground.
“First target moving away at your five o’clock low,” Ryan said. “Slow speed, probably damaged.”
Diane smiled. “Not for long.”
She swung around and nudged the thruster higher. The other scout saucer fired back at her, missing. She used both cannons together and hit it with both shots. It, too, started dropping from the sky to the mountains below.
“Targets are gone from the screen again,” Ryan said.
Diane glanced around as she heard “bumping,” over the headset in OB1’s voice.
“Bumping,” Ryan confirmed. “Images are back. Dog fight, at your seven.”
Diane banked to the left. “Roger that.”
She swung around the mountain ridge, and through the canyon. OB1 scrambled above her with a scout saucer tight behind him. The saucer fired, hitting OB1’s right wing. Buddha fired and hit the saucer from above with both shots. OB1 went into a slow downward spiral.
“Your four!” Ryan shouted.
She pulled up sharply, banked right and fired at another scout saucer going after OB1, missing with both shots. She flipped the firing control to single shot mode and swung to follow her new target. The saucer fired at OB1, hitting the back of his fighter craft. The bright white glow of OB1’s craft dimmed dramatically.
“His jinking control stopped.”
She held the trigger down, firing shots at half-second intervals. After the second shot, the scout saucer pursuing OB1 broke sharply to the right and up. She followed while continuing to fire, missing twice and connecting with the saucer on her third and fourth shots.
“OB1, status!” Diane shouted.
“Power at ten percent, limited flight control, craft is not stable.”
Diane checked the sky behind OB1. “Are you hurt?”
So far, no saucers were closing in on him.
“Negative. No injuries. Trying to make a controlled landing.”
Controlled crash, Diane thought.
“Six o’clock high!” Ryan said.
Diane banked left and dived evading a scout saucer right behind her. Silver was closing in on the same saucer, firing every half second. He hit the saucer just as it was breaking away, sending it into a slow spiral to the ground. Two scout saucers closed in on Silver from behind.
“Silver, six!” Diane shouted.
Silver broke right as Buddha swooped down from above, firing at the nearest saucer on Silver’s tail. That saucer broke away to the left. Hellcat swung in from the side, firing at the second scout saucer, hitting it as it, too, tried to break away in an upward direction.
“Bumping!” Ryan shouted as he switched frequency again.
Diane followed the scout saucer that was on Hellcat’s tail, maintaining a stream of shots after it. The saucer bolted upward at high speed. She pushed the thruster control higher again, firing at the saucer as she closed in. She hit the saucer once, and then again as it reached the upper atmosphere. The saucer tipped and started a slow arc back down to the earth. Diane banked back down to rejoin the dogfight below.
“No bandits on the screen,” Ryan said. He called for a frequency change again. “Still no bandits. Status check!”
“OB1 is on the ground,” Hellcat said. “Both okay. His wingman, Silver, took a direct hit to the canopy. No chute, crash confirmed. Missing one other craft, anyone see what happened?”
Diane searched the sky, looking for any movement.
“Mad Dog was hit,” Buddha said. “I saw a chute. Locator beacon is active.”
She pulled back on the thruster control.
“Any other saucers on the long range screen?” Diane asked. Her heart pounded as she waited for an answer.
“Nothing,” Ryan said.
Diane took a deep breath and relaxed. “Then we stay in place and guard our own until ground support arrives.”
* * *
The debriefing with Hollis went on for three hours and covered every detail of what had happened. Mad Dog, OB1 and their RIOs had been picked up by an Osprey and were on their way back, compliments of the 27th Special Operations Wing at Cannon Air Force Base, New Mexico.
Hollis suspended the meeting until the four remaining members of the squadron could join them in the morning. The six who had returned went down to the cafeteria and got something to eat, then retired for the night.
Diane couldn’t sleep. Her hands were shaking. She paced a U-shaped pattern around the bed in her room, reviewing every detail of the battle. Helen had been the first to sense that something was wrong. The Zetas had gotten through the encryption on the communications system and blocked their awareness of the scout saucers on the tactical screen in their fighter craft. The saucers had disappeared a second time from their screens and their sight when Clay had issued the bumping command. Evidently Ryan had taken note of the time it took the Zetas to get through the encryption and bumped to the next frequency before they got through the third time. That was a valuable piece of information.
There was a soft knock at her door. She wondered if it was Ryan, but opened the door to find Dr. Cowen standing there.
“I see you’re still up,” he said.
She motioned him into the room. “Couldn’t sleep.”
He looked her over carefully as he walked in.
“Neither could anybody else. Adrenaline rush. Hollis authorized something to help get you to sleep.” He looked at her hands. “You’ve got the shakes. Happens when your adrenaline crashes. You’ll feel tired, exhausted even, but not sleepy. You want something? It’s optional.”
She tried to evaluate how much help she needed to get to sleep. “The others take any?”
Dr. Cowen nodded. “So far, three yes, two
no.”
She shook her head. “I’ll pass.”
Dr. Cowen smiled. “Half and half. Matches my experience. Sleep till you wake up, okay?”
Diane couldn’t stop worrying about the other pilots. “Any word about Obers and the others?”
Dr. Cowen reached out and touched her arm. “They’re here. Just get some rest.”
Yeah, she thought, wondering just how that was going to work.
* * *
Diane woke around 9:30 in the morning. She showered and dressed, feeling stiff, sore, and physically exhausted. Maybe she would take the help sleeping next time. Hollis was waiting in the cafeteria.
“How are Obers and the others doing?” she asked.
“Still sleeping. Obers shot down three saucers. All together we have sixteen confirmed kills. Fifteen crash sites. We’re recovering everything except the one you shot down in the upper atmosphere. It crashed in the ocean.”
She sighed. “We lost three craft and two people. Not a good day.”
“I understand,” Hollis said. He motioned her over to a chair. “But overall, you and your squadron proved yourselves capable against the Zeta Greys.”
She sat, still feeling overwhelmed. “It’s not my squadron, sir. I’m just one member.”
Hollis sat in a chair next to her. “Not any more. I’ve promoted you to lieutenant commander. It’s officially your squadron. Keep in mind that none of the saucers came away from the battle. Six of our craft went up against sixteen saucers. Losing only three craft and two people? That’s impressive in my book. We could have lost everything. Then where would we be?”
Silver and his RIO: killed, she thought. But Hollis is probably right. It could have been a lot worse.
“Look,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about something. The Zeta Greys were getting through our communications equipment. Ryan figured out the time interval and bumped the frequency before they could get through again. If we expand the encryption algorithms and set the radios to change encryption on the shorter time interval, I think we can keep them out of our heads.”