by Saxon Andrew
“Are you authorizing me to use deadly force?”
“I am; I honestly think that’s going to be the only way to get his hands off using our Jets to do his dirty work. It would be nice to know what he knows; however, he has to be removed from power.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Don’t be fool hardy!”
“You know me; I’m known for my good decision making.”
“Don’t be fool hardy.”
Adams laughed, “Actually, this makes it easier. I’ll see what I can do.”
Mike ended the call and presses another button, “Hello.”
“Major, have you found out anything?”
“It appears there have been an extraordinary number of calls between the Ranking Russian and Chinese Generals to several phone numbers here.”
“Do you have a line on those numbers?”
“I’ve been able to see the numbers but not where they’re located.”
“Is that possible?”
“If you asked me that question yesterday, I would have said no; I’ve learned differently while doing this.”
“Notify Branton that I’m sanctioning the removal of some of the ones we know are working against us.”
“By removal, do you mean kill?”
““Removal is such a nicer word.”
“It is, isn’t it; I’ll let him know. I don’t think he’s going to like assassinating anyone.”
“There’s another harsh word; let’s stick to removing.”
“The General knows what has to be done. I suspect getting to these bozos isn’t going to be easy; I’d expect them to resist.”
“Major, is there a place where I could pick up some supplies without worrying about being seen?”
“What sort of supplies?”
“Mainly groceries and other survival goods.”
“Are you going to ground?”
“It looks like I have no choice.”
“Where are you now?”
“I’m flying north up the Central Valley in California. I’m just about due east of San Luis Obispo.”
“Give me a minute.” Mike slowed the helicopter and waited for Blackwell to come back. After four minutes Blackwell said, “I have a place where you can refuel and pick up some supplies.”
“Do you think it’s safe?”
“A very close friend of mine lives in Vista Finestra, California. I’ve just spoken to him and he says he’ll be glad to help us.”
“Where is Vista Finestra?”
“You need to cross the valley and head toward Bakersfield. You should run into highway 58 after you clear the valley and it will take you to Bakersfield. Do you have that so far?”
“I do.”
“Go around Bakersfield and look for highway 178, which heads northeast. After about thirty miles, you’ll see Vista Finestra right after you pass the Marin Sports Complex. Hwy 178 becomes Kern Canyon Road and the next community is what you’re looking for.”
“Alright.”
“You’ll be looking for Comanche Drive; it’s a major road that intersects 178 just before you come to Alfred Harrell Highway. Running along 178, immediately after Comanche Drive, is a cleared area with a large house. Next to the highway you’ll see a barn and a long storage building. Land close to the storage building; that’s where he has the fuel tanks.”
“Does he have aviation grade gasoline?”
“He owns a helicopter. He’ll refuel your bird and take you into Tuscany to buy whatever supplies you need. I’ll text you his cell phone number and you can call him when you get close.”
“Thank you, Major.”
“Stay safe, Mike. Things are starting to get dangerous.”
“I’ll contact you after I settle in.” Mike turned east and flew low over the central valley and found Highway 58. He followed it to Bakersfield and flew north around the city. He looked at the aerial map and after a few minutes found Kern Canyon Road. He followed it northeast and quickly saw Vista Finestra ahead. He slowed and banked the AH-6 gunship toward highway. He saw an intersection and the cleared area Blackwell had described. He circled around and picked up the handset. He called the phone number and a voice said, “Ellers.”
“This is a friend of Major Blackwell.”
“Bring it in close to the long building.” The call ended abruptly. Mike looked at the handset and wondered what was going on. He swung around the house and saw a man walking toward the storage building. He blew out a breath and took the AH-6 in and landed next to the long building.
“Now that’s some piece of hardware you’ve got there. They’ve really changed the Little Bird since Vietnam.” Mike saw a man in his sixties shaking his head as he walked around the gunship. “I’m going to assume those guns are hot.”
“They are.”
“I see the pods also have a full load of stingers.”
“You know your helicopters.”
“I flew one in Nam. This one you’re in would have flown circles around my Huey.” The man put out his hand, “I’m Mac Ellers.”
Mike shook his hand, “I’m Mike Sanders. I really appreciate you helping me out.”
“I don’t know what’s going on but Eric says you’re one of the good guys; that’s good enough for me.”
“Good guys?”
“Sorry about hanging up on you but I don’t stay on a cell phone long enough to be tracked.” Mike wondered if he was dealing with a paranoid. Mac saw his expression and smiled, “No, I’m not crazy; I just don’t like being watched. Come on, let’s get this bird fed.” Mike opened the cap to the fuel tank and Mac pulled a long fuel line out of the storage building. Mac inserted the nozzle into the tank and whistled, “How big is this tank?”
“It’s about double the normal capacity.”
“I did the same thing with mine.” Mike nodded and after thirty minutes the hose clicked off. “You must have had more than half a tank.”
“I did; but you can never have too much.”
“Well, let’s go do some shopping.” Mike followed Mac to the house and saw a Ford F-350 Super duty diesel truck.
“Nice truck.”
“I need it to move the copter.”
“Just how large is that helicopter; this thing could pull a house off its foundation.” Mac smiled and climbed in the truck. Mike asked him about his tours in Nam and discovered he took part in some of the deadliest fights of the war. “Tet was the beginning of the end. I lost most of my company fighting Charlie inside the bases perimeter. I had two birds shot out from under me and nearly lost a third. My co-pilot was killed when the second went down.”
“I lost a bird in Iraq.”
“You were there!?!”
Mike nodded, “It wasn’t as easy as the journalists made it out to be.”
“I hear you; it never is.”
They arrived at a hardware store and Mike purchased ten five gallon fuel cans. Mac’s eyebrows went up but he didn’t say anything. They went to the grocery store and Mike bought a big load of canned goods and a large bag of beef jerky. They started back and Mac said, “Is all of this going to fit?”
“I’ll load the fuel cans in the passenger seat and I have a net I can spread out between the landing struts to hold the groceries.”
“You won’t be able to fly at full speed.” Mike shrugged. They arrived back at the storage building and Mac said, “You might want to use my bird to move your load.” Mike looked around and Mac said, “It’s in the barn. Come take a look.” They walked over to the barn and Mac unlocked a door with a welded twelve inch thick steel bar. He slid it to the side and pulled the wide door open. The door swung like it was weightless.
Mike looked in the barn and his mouth fell open, “Where in God’s name did you get that!?”
“Welllll, I kinda stole it.” Mike looked at Mac and understood his paranoia. The Komov Ka 52 Hokum B Russian Attack Helicopter filled the barn. He looked at Mac and shook his head. “I know, I know; but I just had to have it. There are o
nly 30 Alligators in the world and I have one of them.”
“How did you get it?”
“I sorta borrowed it from Venezuela.”
“I’m don’t want to know what you were doing in Venezuela, but this is the advanced model.”
“I was tasked to go in and take it. My partner was killed but I managed to get out with it. My CIA contact refused to send in help to get the Migs off me and I decided they didn’t deserve it. I flew it out and brought it here.”
“How did you get the fuel to get it here?”
“It actually had the range to fly here without refueling.”
“Does everything work?”
“Oh yes.”
“You know you can never fly this.”
“I know, but it’s like a piece of art. Even though it’s stolen, I can still enjoy staring at its beauty.” Mike looked at the two coaxial contra-rotating rotors and understood why this gunship was considered one of the most maneuverable helicopters in the world. It would fly rings around an Apache. “I actually took a commercial flight back to South Columbia using a fake identity and made my way to the border. I walked twenty miles and was picked up by a Columbian patrol. I told them I was shot down and managed to walk out. I resigned my position as a CIA asset and told them to never contact me again.”
“I understand why you don’t stay on the phone long.”
“This bird can carry a lot more than yours.”
“It’s not that much larger.”
“I know, but the Russians know how to build a great helicopter.”
“Why did the CIA want this particular Alligator?”
“It was an experimental ship. They are fuel hogs and their standard range is about four hundred miles. This one has a different fuel delivery system and a fuel cell three times the size of a the standard Alligator. If used in cruising mode, it can fly as far as that bird of yours. This one had two large fuel tanks mounted on it when I took possession. I removed them to make it more maneuverable.”
Mike stared at the helicopter and shook his head, “Would you consider a trade?”
“What?”
“I’ll trade you the AH-6 for it.”
“What model is it?”
“It’s a J.”
“Fully operational?”
“Yes.”
Mac looked out of the barn at the Little Bird and struggled with making the decision. Mike’s next statement allowed him to decide. “I’ll give you a bill of sale and you can take it out and fly it.”
“Do you have the authority to do that?”
Mike went to the AH-6 and took out the handset. He pressed a button and Blackwell answered, “Blackwell.”
“Is General Branton around?”
“I’ll transfer you to his desk.”
“General Branton.”
“Sir, I am going to trade my AH-6 for a different helicopter.”
“You’re going to do what!?!”
“I have found a Ka-52 Holcum B and I believe it will serve me better than the six.”
“WHAT!?!”
“I’ll tell you about it later but I want your approval to make the trade and authorization for the one who has possession of the fifty two to own the Little Bird free and clear with no worries about government intervention in using it.”
“Mike, we’ve been trying to get that helicopter for years.”
“You can have it after all of this is over. Do I have your authority to make the trade?”
“Is the one you’re dealing with a responsible individual?”
“He is.”
“I’ll authorize it and Blackwell can send the documents to whoever you’re dealing with.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Is it armed?”
“To the teeth, Sir.”
“I have got to see that bird!”
“You’ll be one of the first.”
“I’ll put Blackwell back on the line and he’ll work out the details.” Mike looked at Mac and saw his excitement.
“What have you done, now?”
“I’m swapping birds with Mac.”
There was a pause and Blackwell said, “He’s willing to part with it?”
Mike now knew Blackwell knew about the stolen Russian helicopter, “Eric, a pilot longs to fly more than just look at a grounded bird of prey.”
“Put him on the line.”
Mike handed Mac the phone, “Mac, you’re making a good decision. You can stop looking over your shoulder now.”
“I know. Just make sure I have the necessary documentation to keep the Feds off my back.”
“I’m activating your reserve status and giving you the title to own it. You’ll be listed as an undercover asset to the Joint Chiefs.”
“Do I get paid for that?”
“Of course.”
Mac smiled, “I should have done this before.”
“Mac, I’m going to send you a handset like Mike’s. I may have to call you.”
“What about authorizing fuel delivery to my farm? I’d rather have that than pay.”
“I’ll arrange for you to have both.”
“I’m your man.” The phone went dead and Mac said, “I need to go over the systems with you.”
“Lead the way. Do you still have those fuel tanks?”
“I do.”
“How much do they hurt maneuverability?”
“They make a noticeable difference but it will still outperform an Apache with them.”
“I want them back on.”
“First, you learn the controls; then the fuel tanks.” Mike nodded and opened the door to the passenger side. Mac said, “One of the great things about this helicopter is both seats have full controls. It can be flown from either seat which will free up one of the occupants to operate the weapon systems.”
It took forty eight hours to learn the systems and another five hours on the third day to reinstall and fill the external fuel pods. Mike watched Mac hook up the Ford to the Alligator and knew why he had such a large truck. The Alligator was eight feet longer than the AH-6 and five feet taller due to the two rotors. The added size would make for a larger silhouette for radars but its increased maneuverability and higher speed would make it just as effective at staying below the radar’s coverage. It also had something the little bird didn’t; twelve anti-tank rockets and four advanced Russian air-to-air missiles. Mike smiled; he now had a bigger gun. He fired the rotors and the two started turning in opposite directions. The two rotors eliminated the need for a tail rotor and the helicopter’s armor was effective up to twenty millimeter rounds.
Mac stood on the ground and watched the helicopter lift and felt mixed emotions. He decided that it was like releasing an injured bird back into the wild; this bird was built to be a bird of prey. It should be released to fly again.
• • •
Mike flew south from the farm and stayed low to the ground. He was amazed at the Alligator’s performance. The AH-6j was an outstanding machine; but it suffered in comparison to the Ka-52. It was like comparing a Honda Accord to a Porsche Turbo. Both were great cars; but if speed and maneuverability were called for, the choice was obvious. One other item the Alligator had that the AH-6 lacked; an excellent radar system designed to target attacks on ground and air assets. He left it off knowing most military aircraft had systems to detect radars. He would use it to target the air-to-air missiles if the situation arose but kept it turned off as he flew low toward the deserts of Arizona.
• • •
Mamba was furious, “What do you mean you’ve lost him?”
“We had every air corridor to El Segundo covered. We had an E3 AWACs and an EC-121 covering the area and I’m telling you not even a gnat could have come in without being seen. He did not come this way, Sir.”
This Major was getting on Mamba’s nerves in a big way. El Segundo just wasn’t performing to expectations. “Alright, we know where he was; what were his options?”
“If he didn’t come toward us, he had to
go north to avoid being seen.”
“Why not South or West?”
“He came from the East, it doesn’t make sense he would just turn around and go back the way he came.”
“So that leaves North.”
“Yes Sir.”
Dispatch one of those radar planes North and see if you can find him.”
“We’ll send one over the mountains toward the Central Valley.”
“Let me know what you find.”
“Yes Sir.”
Mamba went back to Jameson and said, “See if you can get another track on the Major.”
“Sir, I’ve attempted four pings and got nothing. He must have turned his cell phone off.”
Mamba shook his head and looked at Jameson, “That was a good idea. We at least made him change his plans. Keep up the good work.”
“Yes Sir.”
Jameson watched Mamba walk away and looked at his panel. Bakersfield was glowing on his display and he reached down and erased the screen. Mike was leaving California. He had a good idea where he was going but he kept it to himself.
Chapter Seventeen
Janet looked through the binoculars and watched the last of the government vehicles packing up. She sighed heavily and Tilly looked at her, “What’s wrong?”
“Now we find out if they think we’re dead.”
“What?”
“Tilly, they found the dead bodies of the hit team. The bomb incinerated them but bones don’t burn easily. They know there was a group of men here that were shot and killed.” Tilly stared at her and Janet said, “Their skulls would show the entry of the rounds. They’ll know they were killed before the bomb was dropped.”
“How does that affect us?”
“They didn’t find a female body.”
“Oh.” Tilly thought about it and looked at the trucks, “You think they’ll come back to make sure.”
“I don’t know.”
“Would you come back if you were in charge?”
“Probably; I saw several of them searching the area beyond the crash site. I think they were looking for evidence of our demise. They came up empty handed and I suspect they are bewildered about where we could have been when the bomb went off.”