Ron Schwartz - The Griffins Heart.txt

by The Griffin's Heart(Lit)

  “Good!”

  “Sir, Sentinel One has four Iraqi MIGs vectoring in on the helicopter at high speed.”

  Miller turned to Captain Brodie. “Do you have any aircraft that can intercept them?”

  Brodie studied Miller’s excited, worried face carefully. “I have two aircraft in the air right now and four others that can be launched at a moment’s notice.”

  “Send them now!”

  “Mr. Miller, I would if I had any idea what the helicopter’s flight plan is.”

  Miller turned back to the communications officer. “Have Sentinel One give us the exact location of the helicopter.” Then he turned back to the captain. “Get the coordinates to your aircraft now, captain!”

  Brodie looked at the coordinates reported by Sentinel One and the position of the Iraqi MIGs. He told his communications officer, “Give this to the sentries.”

  Miller wasn’t satisfied. “What about launching your other aircraft?”

  But Brodie just shook his head. “It will take our alert aircraft fifteen minutes to get there at full afterburners, and this whole thing will be over in two minutes. Those Iraqi fighters are one minute behind the helicopter, and our sentries are over five minutes away. We’ll do what we can, Agent Miller, but I’m afraid it won’t be enough. Now, had you made me privy to your plans...”

  “I’m not going to argue my decisions with you, Captain. Is there nothing you can do?”

  Brodie didn’t answer. He just shook his head as the communications officer reported, “Sentinel One confirms two missiles in-flight and bearing down on the helicopter, Mr. Miller.”

  Brodie looked again at Miller. “How many men were on that flight?”

  Miller was quiet as the communications officer reported, “Sentinel One has the helicopter taking a direct hit and exploding, Mr. Miller.”

  Miller looked back at the captain ruefully. “Just one, Captain. Just one. Can we get anybody in there to look for survivors?”

  “Yes, but it’ll take over a hour, and we won’t be able to see anything until sun up, which won’t be for several hours. Now, as I was telling you, Mr. Miller, had you seen the wisdom of including us in your plan, we could have provided the necessary backup.”

  Miller glared at the captain. “Forget it, Captain. None of that matters now! We must concentrate on getting a rescue operation underway immediately to look for survivors. Call the Air Force and tell them to send the C-130 in for the others. Let me know when your helicopters are at the crash site. I’ll be in my quarters.”

  Al-Fallujah Air Force Base

  Near Al-Fallujah, Iraq

  Rob awoke in the seat of the attack helicopter. The night was almost gone, and there had been no attack. Apparently his call had not been monitored by the Iraqis. He examined the controls. Though different in many respects to the controls in the Concorde, these controls were still similar. They weren’t like those of other helicopters he’d seen in the movies which used two sticks. This helicopter was far more advanced, using a single steering wheel much like that found in most planes.

  He played with the controls for awhile and was soon able to start the engine. Should I wake the rabbi? he wondered. No, let him sleep. No need to put him in unnecessary danger. He’ll know where I’ve gone.

  As he continued to increase the throttle, the big overhead prop swirled faster and faster. He felt a gentle lift as the prop’s lift began to move the helicopter from the ground in a methodical bouncing fashion. He needed to get used to the aircraft’s controls, so he maneuvered it around the runway for awhile without leaving the ground.

  After getting comfortable with handling it, he increased the throttle still more until he felt the aircraft leave the ground. At first, he practiced simply rising and lowering to the ground, then hovering several feet from the runway’s surface.

  As the night slowly faded into morning, his command of the aircraft steadily improved. He found himself circling the airbase at about a hundred feet as the sun finally broke over the horizon.

  Main Operation Center, USS Roosevelt

  Persian Gulf

  Miller had been summoned to Ops by Brodie. As he sat in the chair beside Brodie, the mood in the room told him to prepare for bad news. “Well, let’s have it.”

  Brodie shook his head. “It’s not good. The C-130 flew into the area you had identified as a pickup site and received heavy damage from ground-based weapons. It did manage to limp back but without picking up the Special Forces or any hostages. The crew of the transport reported seeing the remains of two Army Black Hawk helicopters near the landing site, the same kind you used to transport the Special Forces into the area.”

  “What about the sea rescue of the other downed helicopter?”

  “Two of our helicopters, along with two ground-based Marine helicopters, have been surveying the area for about a half hour and haven’t found anything. Not even any floating debris. It must have been totally destroyed.”

  “Well, keep looking, Captain!”

  “Is that all?”

  “Why? What more are you looking for?”

  “What about the Special Forces that were lost in Iraq? Aren’t you the least bit interested in what happened to those men or in getting them out? Why the preoccupation with that flight over the gulf?”

  “I don’t know what to do about getting those men out. I don’t even know IF we’re going to do anything about it.”

  “Are you telling me that those men you sent into Iraq are expendable but whoever was on that single helicopter is not?”

  “I’m not going to mince words with you, Captain. You have your priorities. Concentrate on them.”

  “Just one more thing. Did these men know you were sending them into a hot zone?”

  Miller remained silent. He either chose not to answer or didn’t know what to say.

  His silence bothered Brodie more than if he had gotten an answer. “Did you know you were sending them into a hot spot, Agent Miller?”

  Miller was obviously uncomfortable with the questions and shifted in his chair. “We knew there was a possibility of strong resistance.”

  “I’ll bet every cent I have that you never communicated that to those men.”

  “We felt that unconfirmed information should not be shared.”

  “My God, you sent them to their deaths!” Brodie was disgusted.

  Beads of sweat appeared on Miller’s forehead as he opened his mouth but was unable to speak.

  Brodie was not happy with Miller’s explanation so far and continued to press him. “Tell me, Agent Miller, why didn’t the NSA furnish those men any air support, and what is the NSA going to do now about getting those men out?”

  Miller stood to leave. He was unprepared to handle what had happened to his men, and he didn’t know how to handle these questions. He really didn’t know what he was going to do.

  “One more thing,” Brodie stopped Miller before he could leave.

  Now what? thought Miller. Things can’t possibly get any worse than this.

  But they did.

  Brodie handed him a letter. “While you were on your way up here, this came for you. It was an encrypted transmission and required our computers to translate it.”

  Miller took the letter and read it carefully.

  Special Agent Dick Miller:

  We communicated with Rob Anderson earlier and learned that he is no longer being held at the bunker. Cancel the operation scheduled for tonight. Instead, he and the other hostages will be gathered at an airfield in Iraq later this morning. We will furnish you with the coordinates of this airfield, in a secured communication, when we have established the exact time.

  NSA Director

  Miller glanced up at Brodie after reading the message. He must have read the message too, he thought.

  Brodie shook his head again. “In your ambition, you sent those men out a day ahead of time, didn’t you?”

  Miller paled.

  “Now that the pickup site has changed, you don’t
have anyone to send in after them, do you, Agent Miller? This is a classic example of how you NSA folks have never learned to play ball with the rest of us.”

  “Can it, Brodie! No one could have foreseen this!”

  “You people and your little secrets! You even keep them from each other, and now what has that gotten you?”

  Miller rose to leave. He had to think things through. What was he going to do now?

  Salah Ad-Din Territory

  Iraq

  Marie stood near one of the trucks as she watched the sun appear over the distant mountains. She was still sore but feeling much better. The dampness of the dew on the ground combined with the cool morning air, producing a sweet aroma around her. She could no longer look at the morning sun without thinking of Rob and his promise to return to her. Even though everyone else had given up hope that he would return, she just couldn’t help but believe. She examined to horizon carefully, looking for some telltale sign of her husband’s approach.

  Below her, Wright, Taylor, Hawk, and Rock stood over one of the warheads. Hawk had completed his work, and the warhead was ready for detonation.

  “So what do we need to do to detonate it?” Wright asked Hawk.

  Hawk’s face looked showed strains of exhaustion. “There are two ways. The first way is by using this timer I constructed. Fill this cup with sand and then leave. You’ll have twenty-one minutes to get away. I timed it. The sand slowly leaks out of the bottom, and when it’s gone, the arm raises and toggles the switch, detonating the warhead. The second way is to toggle the switch manually.”

  “But won’t that detonate the warhead immediately?” Taylor asked, looking concerned.

  “Yes, sir. Once this switch is toggled, it’s all over.”

  A shiver went down Wright’s spine as he looked around for help. The four of them standing there and two other Marines were all that was left of the strong military presence this convoy once had. With the other Marines missing for two days now, they would have to try to load the warhead with just six men.

  “Let’s get the others over here,” Wright said to Rock. “We need to drive these warheads about twenty miles from here before we detonate them.”

  Rock smile at Wright. “We’re going to use the timer, right?”

  “No! I want you to throw the switch as soon as you’re twenty miles out,” Wright retorted.

  Taylor was about to try to get in on the joking when a guard at the edge of camp shouted, “We have company!”

  Wright, Taylor, and Rock ran to the edge of camp while Hawk stayed with the warheads. The three crawled up the sloping rise that hid the convoy from every direction but the west where the Marine guard was lying. He was pointing toward the west at a rising cloud of dust in the distance.

  “Is it our guys or the bad guys?” Wright asked the Marine guard who was watching the approach through binoculars.

  “Bad guys, sir,” he replied and handed the binoculars to Wright.

  Wright examined the approaching vehicles. “You’re right! Definitely bad guys.” He turned to the others. “They’re about two miles out and closing cautiously. They’re heading right for us, so we must assume they’ve spotted us.”

  “What’s their composition?” Taylor asked.

  “It’s really hard to see since they’re approaching in column fashion and sending up lots of dust. But there are tanks and IFVs, so it’s definitely an Armor unit of some kind.”

  “What are your orders?”

  Wright paused as he looked from face to face. Everyone was quiet, anticipating the worse. Finally, he made the hard decision no one else wanted to make. “Rock, get down to the hummer, and send out an SOS on the American emergency band. It doesn’t matter now if our location is exposed. They already know we’re here. Broadcast our position and the fact that we’ve recovered nuclear warheads. Maybe that’ll spur some quick action. Taylor, get down to the warheads. When... If I give you the order, detonate them. Can you handle that?”

  Taylor paled and stared at Wright with a partially open mouth.

  “Can you handle it, Captain?”

  Taylor nodded slowly. “Yes. I think I can.”

  Wright didn’t want Taylor to think about it too long, so he looked around. “Let’s do it!”

  Al-Fallujah Air Force Base

  Near Al-Fallujah, Iraq

  As Rob flew around the airbase, raising and lowering his altitude, he thought of Marie and the others. Why risk trying to find the convoy from the Concorde, he thought, when I could just cruise around in this helicopter? It was much better armed, and he could be there in fifteen or thirty minutes, depending on how fast he located them. True, he would have to make a half dozen trips back and forth to bring all the passengers to the airbase, but it did seem like a more logical solution.

  Before he could completely make up his mind to do this, he found himself flying north in the direction he had come. Coming into view down below was the smoldering Armor column he had helped to blow itself apart. He continued to fly north in a slight zigzag manner, wondering how far the convoy had gone and where they would be hiding.

  As he continued to contemplate the situation, he noticed the gunner’s helmet beside his seat. It had a type of HUD that covered the left eye. He had read about this type of sighting mechanism but had never seen one in real life. He put the helmet on and found the switch to enable the sighting mechanism.

  After the initial shock, he was surprised to find out how easily he adjusted to it. It used a laser, projected at his left eye, to follow where his eyes looked. The sighting mechanism would automatically target the aircraft’s weapons on whatever he looked at. The HUD gave him a constant update of all important systems. It was remarkable how well it worked. He was free to fly the aircraft, yet he could aim and fire the weapons almost effortlessly.

  He decided to give the weapons a try. He checked the thumb setting for the weapon selection. It was set to a picture of a missile. He stared at a large rock about a mile in the distance and pressed the trigger. A missile immediately shot out from one of weapons pylons and bore down on the rock. Within seconds, it impacted on the rock with a brilliant flash.

  What a rush! he thought.

  Salah Ad-Din Territory

  Iraq

  The tanks had stopped about a quarter of a mile from the convoy’s position while the lead tank pulled up close. Wright watched as a lone figure stepped out of the top hatch of the closest tank and stood atop the turret, shouting. “My name is Colonel Azswand! Lay down your arms and come out, and you will not be hurt!”

  He thought hard. He had to stall this man until help came, so he stood up. “Do not attempt to come any closer or fire on our position! We are in possession of your nuclear warheads, and we will detonate them if we are threatened!”

  He heard his counterpart laughing from where he stood. “We have no warheads for you to take. Don’t think your cleverness is something that will save you, for I will not think twice about leveling your camp.”

  “It’s not a lie! We took them from your underground facility at Samarra.”

  Again Wright heard laughter. “With whom am I speaking?”

  “You’re speaking with Captain Wright of the United States Marine Corps.”

  “Captain Wright, there is no underground facility at Samarra. In fact, there is no military facility at Samarra. You lie to me in a useless attempt to cause a diversion, but it will not work. You have no nuclear weapons, and we will wait no longer. Now come forward, or I will have your camp destroyed!”

  “Check with your superiors. They’ll tell you it’s true. Or come in here and see for yourself.”

  “Enough chatter. Will you surrender?”

  “Colonel, bear with me, please. You know that we cannot allow you to have these warheads back. You are forcing me to do the unthinkable. If you attempt to take this camp, I’ll have no other alternative than to detonate them. We’ll all perish! Now, please, send someone here to examine these weapons and see that I’m telling you the
truth.”

  “Captain Wright, I will wait no longer. I believe you have some reason to try to stall, and I will have no part of it. Now this is your last chance. Will you surrender?”

  Wright turned around and ducked down behind the slope to shout to Rock, “Anything?”

  “No, sir. There’s been no response yet.”

  Wright started to reply when one of the trucks in front of him exploded. Parts of the truck flew hundreds of feet into the air, and everyone near it was thrown away.