ALL ACTION THRILLER BOXSET: THREE MURRAY MCDONALD STANDALONE THRILLERS

by Murray Mcdonald

  “Well stop me having to shout across to you and get on over here!”

  “I’m afraid there are three of us,” he said, seeing no room for Lauren and Mike.

  Jack looked at the girl who, unbeknownst to her, had probably saved his life, her impostor ‘replacement’ having alerted him just before the attack.

  “Well I’m sure these two boys would be happy to trade places,” said Jack, much to Frank’s horror. He was already freaking out that the president was leading from the front. The loss of the two highly skilled ex-Special Forces soldiers in exchange for two students was not a good trade in his mind.

  “Ignore him,” he said, nodding his head toward Frank. “He thinks I can’t look after myself!”

  The three swapped with the two Special Forces guys and, as Bill began to tell the president what he’d been up to, the screech of jets overhead killed the conversation. Initial concerns were short-lived as they all looked up at the skies to see one of the ugliest looking planes ever to fly. A huge cheer erupted.

  “Go Ugly Early!” came a chorus of shouts. Men who had served and witnessed the power of the Warthog cheered their flying brethren on.

  Jack watched as the A10s flew overhead and on towards the capital ahead. He smiled at the thought of the invading Chinese forces finally facing a fight. They were about to understand what true grit and determination achieved.

  Jack waved the troops on. The pick-ups accelerated as they looked to strike and make maximum capital of the devastation that was about to befall the Chinese armored divisions ahead.

  ***

  “Sir, the aircraft are approaching, five miles out now,” said the operator. The general waited.

  “The main body of the force has begun to accelerate,” said another operator.

  Still, the general waited. He wanted to make the most of what was about to happen.

  “The aircraft are one mile from our front line, sir.”

  “Now!” said the general.

  The Chinese had watched with interest the work underway at the boneyard from their untouched and perfectly functioning satellites. It was the one piece in the puzzle that hadn’t made sense to the general. Why would men with rifles try to fight tanks with cannons? The activity had been the answer, particularly when they had begun to prepare the A10s. That was their killer move, the reason they thought they had a chance. Again, he had the choice to take them out before they attacked or wait.

  Without them, their attack would have been futile. They would have tried other means. Something he might not know of. They may even have delayed their attack or moved to another method of attack. ‘Full on’ was what he wanted. That way, he could deal the most decisive victory.

  “Fire!”

  ***

  The cheering stopped as the first A10 was blown out of the sky. The wall of surface-to-air missiles that had been fired devastated both attacks, the North and the South. Over ninety percent of the aircraft were destroyed in the first wave of missiles. Fired from almost point-blank range, it was a wonder any survived.

  When a second wave of missiles was set off, both Swanson and Butler were screaming at their pilots to abort.

  Circling high above the action, Swanson and Butler were safe from the missiles targeting the low flying A10s but with their radar, they could see what the Chinese had in store for their troops. A mass of dots suddenly appeared over both Washington and the camp. Moving slowly, they could only be attack choppers.

  There were a few stingers below, in both forces, to deal with the few attack choppers that had been noticed before. They had nothing like the number required to deal with the mass of choppers that were about to attack them. A hundred or so dots appeared on the radar.

  “Retreat!!!” screamed Butler into the radio tuned to the frequency for the ground forces, another addition to the C130, thanks to the boneyard.

  “Wait a minute,” said Swanson. “What the hell is that?” she said, pointing to her radar screen.

  Chapter 79

  President Junpeng walked into the meeting. His face told everyone in the meeting that his mood had not improved. The death of his son and brother had rocked him to the core. He was not a man that suffered loss. The news of the Americans amassing their forces and the way in which the general had proposed to deal with it was so far the only piece of good news he had had. It had also saved the general’s life. Somebody had to pay for his brother’s death. So far, the three bodyguards had been the scapegoat but few doubted more would have to pay.

  “What is happening in Russia?” he asked, kicking off the meeting angrily, the way in which he meant it to go on.

  “We are being held by greater than anticipated Russian defenses,” replied the general responsible for the Russian invasion.

  “Greater than anticipated? I’m hearing that a lot at the moment with regards to the Russians!”

  “Their troops are far greater--”

  “Do not say it,” he threatened. “I expected to be in Moscow today, not five hundred miles short!” he screamed. “What’s happening on the Western front?”

  “Little or no movement,” replied his intelligence chief.

  Junpeng shook his head in wonder. “Why is that?” he sighed loudly and with some frustration. “The West are half the force without the Americans, yet the Russians are holding us back. We’ve sent double the force the Russians expected and they’re still holding us back! Any ideas?”

  His generals and cabinet remained silent.

  “Play the tape,” he instructed his secretary, who waited by the projector.

  Two scenes were played to the group. The first was in the East where the Russians were fighting wildly against the Chinese forces, defending their homeland. The second showed the Western front. A far more sedate battlefield was displayed, a few small skirmishes but no real battle ensued.

  As the tape stopped playing, he asked again, “Any ideas?”

  Heads dropped around the table, as no one dared catch his eye. “Anyone?”

  “They know! They’re playing us. They know!”

  “Warn General Petlin in America and send everything we’ve got in reserve to Russia. I want them crushed and I want to be in Moscow by tomorrow night!”

  ***

  “What’s that?” asked Butler, looking at the radar. Those dots that have just appeared, coming in from the sea?”

  “No idea but they’re moving fast!”

  ***

  Jack was in the process of signaling a retreat when the first missiles struck the attack choppers ahead. The jets that followed were ones he had really not expected to see over American skies. Spanish Harriers, French Rafaels and British F35s tore across the sky. Over a hundred aircraft ensured that their missiles obliterated the slow moving choppers which had been tormenting the Americans with a steady and deliberate approach.

  A number of explosions on the ground signaled the end of the missile threat as another wave of Canadian jets flew in and destroyed the plane killers.

  ***

  General Petlin replaced the phone to its base following his call from China. They had just alerted him to the allies’ sham in Europe, just as he had received the news of the foreign jets destroying his choppers. A little too late, he thought. He wouldn’t have kept his jets out of the picture had he known the allies were a potential threat. Having not anticipated a need for fast jets, it was the one piece of equipment that he lacked. The entire USAF was about to become theirs and so he had not gone to the hassle of shipping many over. Given the distance and lack of need, they just weren’t deemed necessary, especially when as many as possible were required for the Russian offensive. But with the allied jets around, he really wished he had asked for more. However, the J-10s and J-11s that he did have in reserve were more than a match for the allies and would level the field.

  The jets soon appeared over Washington and chased the allied fighters who had spent their missile loads back out to sea.

  ***

  The trap worked perfectly. As
the allied jets went into after-burn to hurry back to their aircraft carriers which lay well protected far out to sea, smaller missile cruisers of the allied nations had sailed much farther inshore into the Chesapeake Bay in support of the attack. As the allied jets flew safely overhead, the missile cruisers fired a wall of missiles into the Chinese jets. Much like the A10s, the J-10s and J-11s stood little chance.

  ***

  With the screams of his aircrafts’ dying crews reverberating around his operations center, General Petlin ordered his tanks to attack the Americans full on.

  ***

  The sight of the wall of armor proceeding at pace towards them was not a sight any American wished to see. With the fighters gone, it was down to Jack and his men to fight for their capital. He raised his arm and waved his forces on.

  It would be a massacre but he wasn’t retreating. He knew Victor would be doing the same against the camp. They were beyond the point of retreat. It was determination versus might.

  ***

  “Just get us down there, I don’t care how! I want to get into that fight!” shouted Butler. He felt helpless and with no A10s to command, utterly useless. The pilot spun them around and headed towards JFK. As they circled in towards the airport, a flash to the East of Washington caught their eye. Initially, Butler panicked, thinking a missile had just been launched at them. However it wasn’t. He yelled to Swanson. “Tell Victor to retreat!”

  Chapter 80

  Jack raced towards the oncoming armor. The wide open fields in the area would allow them maximum maneuverability and more importantly, minimize civilian casualties. He knew the Chinese tanks would come into range soon. Their 125mm guns would make short work of the US pick-ups but they had to try. The number of tanks that were coming to meet them was far greater than they had anticipated.

  He stood tall on the back of the pick-up, pointing his troops forward. He hammered on the roof on the cabin, he wanted to go faster. The charge was on.

  “Mr. President, they’ve just told Victor to pull back and support us!” the radio operator from the passenger seat below him said through the rear window of the cab.

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure, something about taking Washington first.”

  Jack looked ahead at the line of tanks and wondered if somebody was feeling a little overconfident at their chances. He had almost thirty thousand men with him and it would probably be all over in the next ten minutes. They didn’t stand a chance.

  The appearance of another wave of attack choppers popping over the horizon behind the tanks was the last thing they needed to see. He reevaluated. They’d be lucky to last five minutes.

  With the tanks almost in range, he braced himself. The choppers fired first. The fire spouting from their missiles and rocket launchers were clearly visible.

  “Hold your line!” shouted Jack.

  The Chinese tanks took the full brunt of the choppers’ onslaught, exploding as they were caught totally blindsided. The remaining tanks’ turrets swung wildly to where the choppers had been but were too late. They had already moved on and unleashed another deadly volley. The tanks that were able to turn began to race back towards the city for some semblance of cover.

  The very recognizable form of the Apache attack chopper appeared before them in unfamiliar Greek, Japanese and British guise. They appeared to fly above them and wordlessly tell them to follow on. Jack wasn’t for stopping in any event. Follow was what they’d have to do. He hammered the roof for more speed.

  The Chinese tanks were being chased back towards a city that didn’t want them. A city that seemed to have concocted its own surprise. Blocking the Chinese retreat was a wall of armor, only this one was shooting back.

  By the time Jack arrived, the last Chinese tank was surrendering, much to his surprise, to an American Abrams tank.

  Jack was directed towards the commander’s tank.

  The hatch opened to reveal an extremely delighted Admiral Keeler, Supreme Commander of the NATO forces.

  “Mr. President, we thought you were dead!” he shouted, jumping from the Abrams.

  “Admiral Keeler! What in the hell are you doing here?!” was all Jack could think to say, such was his relief.

  ***

  With the arrival of the allied armor, General Petlin ordered a retreat back to the camp. He was furious at being caught off guard but blamed Beijing for their poor intelligence. He had had no idea that the NATO allies posed him any kind of threat. As far as he had been concerned, the greatest threat to the coastline was the floating junk of the US Navy running aground due to lack of control and power. A loss of a prized ship would have been frowned upon, as it would soon become part of the Chinese military.

  A quick reconnaissance confirmed what he suspected. The allied forces were minimal, enough to secure Washington due to his poor intelligence but nowhere near strong enough to secure the camp. He had batteries of anti-aircraft missiles and five times their armor. Reinforcements were already on their way from across the States and would be with him over the coming days, not to mention the armies that were plying the seas at that very moment.

  The Russians were buckling under the renewed vigor of the reinforced Eastern front. They would fall shortly. Moscow would be theirs soon too.

  Washington was only a small victory for the Americans in a much larger battle.

  Chapter 81

  By mid-afternoon, the last of the Chinese in Washington had been captured or had scurried back to Camp Trust. The White House was once again under American control and, thanks to surprisingly good generators, had power, if nothing else. Joan was as pleased to see Jack as he was her. She and many other low level staff who were deemed to pose no threat had been simply locked in the basement and left to fend for themselves, which they had done admirably. Given the power back-ups and resources within the White House, it was probably the best place to have been.

  Admiral Keeler had explained his meeting with the Russian president and how he had told Keeler about the Chinese fooling them all. Keeler was initially skeptical, and Ilya Chernov had replayed the phone call between Jack and himself, just as the Chinese had struck. Although still skeptical, Chernov’s suggestion that they keep up the pretense that the Russians and allies were still fighting swung him. Why would Ilya suggest it if he was not being honest? Keeler had spoken with the British prime minister who had agreed and offered everything he could. A number of allied vessels were secured and the Camp Darby tanks were loaded onto allied transport ships. They would be the only US contingent in the fight to regain America. It was the only equipment they had that worked. The British had even sent their new aircraft carrier and aircraft, despite them being nowhere near ready for service.

  Everything had to be done in secrecy, the idea being to surprise the Chinese. They had loaded what they could as fast as they could under cover of darkness. The plan was to combine the air and ground assault, but when their radars picked up the A10s, they realized an assault was already under way. They had tried to rush the jets in to protect the A10s but they were just too late.

  “Congratulations, Mr. President,” said Butler as he and Swanson were shown into the Oval Office. A small crowd was already in attendance.

  “We’re only partway there. Anyway, let me introduce you,” he said, pointing to Admiral Keeler. “Admiral Keeler, Tom Butler and Jane Swanson. Admiral, this guy worked out their plan and was risking his life trying to warn us before it all happened.”

  Keeler shook both their hands.

  “And Tom, Jane, this old goat is the best damn shot in the Army.”

  Butler looked at a man who hadn’t been in the Army for at least thirty years.

  “This is Bill Swann and the man who it appears may have killed President Junpeng’s brother and son.”

  Butler looked back at him again, the surprise clear in his face. The president nodded his head.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” said Butler.

  Bill introduced his niece and her boyfrien
d and soon the jovialities gave way, for at least a short period, to the enormity of the task that still awaited them.

  “Mr. President,” announced Joan, “they’re ready for you in the Situation Room.”

  The president indicated for all but Lauren and Mike to join them.

  The group that had gathered in the room was a very different group than any other to have gathered in the defense of the nation. A number of foreign officers stood up and saluted as Jack entered with his entourage. Victor King sat alongside his cousin, with Admiral Keeler on the other side.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, what do we know?” he asked, kicking the meeting off.

  “As you are aware, all satellites are down, Mr. President, not just American ones. Therefore, the best we can do are some aerial shots that we managed to capture earlier,” said a British officer before laying a number of aerial reconnaissance shots on the table.

  The scale of the forces was far beyond what they had anticipated. Anti-aircraft missiles were clearly visible. They would be able to knock out some but it seemed there were more than enough to deal with the one hundred planes at the allies’ disposal.

  “Thank God you pulled back,” said Jack to Victor. “It would have been a slaughter.”

  Victor looked at the photos and couldn’t disagree. The camp had become a fortress. The defenses were well laid out and well protected.

  “So what, we just sit and wait for them to take Washington back?” asked Jack angrily to no one in particular. “Every minute our people have no power or idea what’s happening to them, we lose a little more of our society. Guys, we need to do something!”

  “We need to switch our military back on,” Butler proclaimed loudly, drawing everyone’s attention.

  Keeler, more aware than most of the failure of the equipment on the battlefield, was the first to ask. “What the hell does that mean?”

  Butler explained that his IT gurus had discovered that there was, in effect, an on-off switch for their equipment. Every single piece of equipment could simply be switched back on and likewise off, with one command.