Ron Schwartz - The Griffins Heart.txt

by The Griffin's Heart(Lit)

  Rob looked down at the ocean. He knew they were near freedom by now. “The last one isn’t going to be so easy. He knows all our tricks now. Does anyone have any suggestions?”

  “Try sending an SOS,” Wright suggested. “There’s bound to be friendly aircraft out here.”

  “Agreed. Get on it, Captain.”

  USS Brittany Shore

  Fifty-two miles south of Jazireh-Ye Farst Island, Persian Gulf

  “Commander Pitney,” the communications officer announced, “we’re picking up a mayday from an aircraft in our vicinity.”

  “Great. Just great.” Pitney’s ship had seen the dark side of battle weeks before and was finally close to finding harbor. The captain had been killed in combat along with many of the men. Large sections of the hull were missing where attacking missiles had impacted and fires had raged. Now the scorched black vessel, functioning under minimal power and speed, was being summoned for duty again.

  “Let me guess. It’s a downed pilot needing rescue.”

  “No, sir, it’s a friendly being pursued.”

  Pitney perked up and walked over to the radar scope on what was left of the bridge. Most of the roof over the bridge was gone, along with all of its windows. Fire and explosions had destroyed much of the compartment, but with effort and determination, the crew had managed to get some systems functional again.

  “What do you have?”

  “It’s a large aircraft being pursued by what appears to be a MIG-23.”

  “Range?”

  “One hundred twenty miles and closing quickly.”

  “How quickly?”

  “Very. They’re doing better than mach one point five!”

  “What kind of large aircraft? A B-1?”

  “Larger! It’s giving more of a radar echo then the B1. I’m not familiar with its configuration.”

  “Are there any other ships or aircraft that can lend support?”

  “No, sir. Nothing close enough to make a difference.”

  Pitney turned to the weapons officer. “What do we have left?”

  “Just a single Sea Sparrow missile in the aft quad-launcher.”

  “Get it ready. Quickly.”

  “Commander, we don’t know if we can even launch it. Many of the targeting systems are still out.”

  “Just do it.”

  Concorde Flight

  Thirty-two miles west of Jazireh-Ye Farst Island, Persian Gulf

  The MIG-23 pilot in pursuit of the Concorde not only had cannon rounds but a single short-range missile as well. But after seeing how his wingmen were treated, he was not about to take any chances. He brought his aircraft up behind the Concorde to a range of nearly two miles so he could evaluate the situation. After following the Concorde for four minutes, he felt sure that he could move in and fire his missile without coming under the fire of its cannons. He had matched the airspeed of Concorde and was now pulling into attack position.

  Though the Concorde was twisting and weaving, his course would eventually yield him the angle of fire he wanted. He watched the tracking radar as he steadily drew closer and noted the desperation in its moves as the Concorde struggled to escape. A tone sounded as he illuminated the target for his missile. Another tone sounded indicating that the missile had seen the target and was now locked onto it. Now he just had to pull the trigger to launch the missile.

  “I can’t get him off me!” Rob shouted as he desperately twisted and weaved. “It’s like trying to outmaneuver a motorcycle with a bulldozer!” Sweat poured down his face as he realized they were facing the end. But they had come so far and overcome so much adversity, how could it possibly end like this? “I’m open to ideas!”

  “Can you slow down enough for us to get some rifle shots at him out the window?” Wright suggested.

  No, this guy is smart. He’s not letting me get close. I’ll bet he has missiles locked on us right now.”

  “What we need is a bolt of lightning,” Logan said thoughtfully.

  “Yeah, from where?” Wright looked at him, sarcasm dripping. “The hand of God?”

  Rob groaned as he turned the Concorde as hard to the left as he could. Suddenly, the MIG appear about fifty yards to his left, and then a brilliant red flash blinded him as the MIG exploded.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “It looked like lightning!” Wright replied.

  The rabbi smiled and whispered, “From the hand of God!” The cabin became unusually quiet, in awe of recent events.

  The Concorde flew on as the Brittany Shore continued to limp along. Those aboard the Concorde had not seen the single missile that streaked up from the deck of the Brittany Shore. The sailors on deck didn’t even notice the small ball of fire falling from the northern sky. They were completely unaware of the fact that their little frigate had once again played a pivotal role in the Second Gulf War.

  Concorde Flight

  One hundred fifty miles southeast of the Strait of Hormuz

  Indian Ocean

  Rob was finally settling down and beginning to relax, but he was not far enough away to satisfy himself yet. He slowed the aircraft to about seven hundred mile per hour to conserve fuel, but they were still traveling fast enough to leave the area quickly.

  “What’s your plan now, Colonel?” Wright inquired.

  “To continue heading southeast out of the Persian Gulf and into the Indian Ocean. Then we’ll head northeast into India.”

  “Why not turn west into Saudi Arabia?” Logan asserted.

  “Do you know for sure that Saudi Arabia still exists? How do you know it has not been taken over by Iraq? So far, theirs are the only aircraft we’ve seen.”

  It was now noon. Much had happened since morning, as the Concorde sped out of the Persian Gulf and into the Indian Ocean. Rob planned to stay far enough out to sea that he could evade Iran and any of its aircraft. He planned to fly west to India to try to find safe harbor there.

  Wright didn’t seem to be too concerned about the nuclear warheads being confiscated by India since they already possessed an arsenal of nuclear bombs. Rob, Logan, and Wright had been discussing the issue about where they would land and what problems they might encounter. It was becoming obvious to Rob that possessing nuclear warheads was far more complex an issue than he thought.

  “What if we don’t tell them we have nuclear weapons?” Rob asked.

  “Everyone will already know,” Wright explained. “When we broadcast our SOS on an unsecured band, we stated that we have nuclear weapons. That kind of information travels fast. I’m not even sure how it’s all intercepted, but you can be sure of this: by now it’s even been on CNN!”

  “I have to agree with Captain Wright,” Logan nodded. “This kind of information spreads like fire. The way news agencies and foreign governments are following the developments of this war, not to mention monitoring military frequencies, we must assume that everyone knows what cargo we’re carrying. Even if they don’t know, it’s common procedure for most nations to search a hijacked aircraft for hidden bombs. What do you think they’ll say when they come across what we have in the cargo hold? We’d all be tried for espionage or terrorism and hung if we didn’t reveal the existence of those weapons up front. So even if a country doesn’t know about the weapons we have aboard, we must tell them. That leaves us with finding a country to land in that is, at least, nuclear capable.”

  “So, I guess it’s India or...” Rob looked around. “Anybody want to help me? Or who?”

  “Let’s just head to India and hope for the best,” Wright replied. “If they won’t, then we can revisit our alternatives.”

  Lucky had been leaning against the cabin door listening. “There is one thing you haven’t considered.”

  “What’s that?” Rob asked.

  “We wouldn’t really have to ask permission to land.” Lucky smiled. “I mean, we could just land someplace, take the fuel we need, and then leave again if we had to.”

  “Yeah,” Wright added, “and risk get
ting shot down. That kind of thinking will get us all killed.”

  “Unless,” Rob glanced back at Lucky, “we’re out of alternatives. Then we’d have to pick someplace where we could get in and out quickly and cause minimum political problems. You wouldn’t happen to know of a place like that, would you, Lucky?”

  Lucky just smiled. “Let’s just see how everything turns out, Colonel.”

  Concorde Flight

  Amindivi Islands

  Two hundred fifty miles from the coast of India

  The Concorde, traveling at about a thousand miles per hour, was quickly approaching the coast of India. Everyone seemed relieved to finally be away from Iraq.

  “I think we can say that we’re finally out of range of Iran’s fighters now,” Rob said.

  Wright glanced at the charts and nodded in agreement.

  Logan, sitting in the co-pilot seat, looked over at Rob. “Do you think it’s about time to contact India?”

  “Yeah, I think we ought to start trying. Does anybody know what band to use for civilian emergencies?”

  “Yes,” Logan spoke up and leaned forward to adjust the radio. “There’s something wrong here.” He was instantly alarmed. “The green light on the radio... it’s out! It should be on if we have power.”

  Rob looked concerned. “What happened?”

  But Logan was already taking the initiative. He had loosened his seatbelt and was making his way around the cabin. “There should be a circuit breaker panel around here.” He stopped at the navigator’s console. “Here it is. There is a breaker tripped.” Logan snapped the switch and the green light came on. “You should have it now!”

  Before Rob could key the microphone to call India, a voice came across the speaker. “Concorde flight, we’ll give you one last warning. Do not proceed into India’s airspace, or you will be shot down!”

  Rob answered, “Hello, India. This is Flight 1430 requesting an emergency landing. We have been hijacked and were able to escape.”

  “Flight 1430, your request to land is denied. Do not proceed into our airspace.”

  “But we have wounded on board who need medical attention, and our fuel is in short supply!”

  “Flight 1430, the nation of India does not allow strategic bombers or aircraft to fly in or over its airspace.”

  “But we’re not a strategic bomber. We are escaped hostages who need safe harbor.”

  “Flight 1430, please consider the following question carefully. Are you carrying nuclear weapons?”

  Rob paused and looked around the cabin. The voice asked again, “Are you carrying nuclear weapons?”

  “Yes, but...”

  “Are you carrying military personnel?”

  “Yes, but...”

  “You are by definition a strategic aircraft and will not be allowed into our borders or airspace. I have been authorized to read you the following statement issued by Iraq:

  An American military force has invaded and stolen secured nuclear weapons from the nation of Iraq. These weapons were intended for the sole purpose of discouraging the United States and its allies from using nuclear blackmail against Iraq. Any nation that allows this flight safe harbor or passage will come under the immediate retaliation of the nation of Iraq. Be forewarned that Iraq views the aiding of this flight an Act of War.

  It is my country’s wish to remain neutral in your war with Iraq. And since you do by your own admission carry these nuclear weapons illegally obtained in Iraq, we will not be foolish enough to help you.”

  “But we are low on fuel! Our passengers are mostly civilian, including women and children! You must help us!”

  “Flight 1430, you will have to take your concerns elsewhere. I repeat, the nation of India wishes to remain neutral in your war against Iraq.”

  “But can you...”

  “This transmission is terminated!”

  “Hello, India? Hello? Come in, India!” Rob stopped and looked around the cabin. Everyone’s face showed the same startled look. What were they to do now? “I’m open to suggestions.”

  Main Operations Center, USS Roosevelt

  Persian Gulf

  Miller looked at the television screen that connected him via satellite hookup to Washington. He was visibly nervous as the National Security Advisor to the president came into view.

  “Special Agent Dick Miller?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “They tell me this is important. And it had better be if you’re going to justify taking me away from a meeting with the President!”

  “Yes, sir, it is. You are, of course, aware of the Concorde flight that was hijacked and taken into Iraq...”

  “Yes, and the fact that they escaped this morning. Get on with it!”

  “Sir, the situation here is not what I’d consider secure, so bear with me while I attempt to be vague. Are you aware of who was on that flight?”

  “Yes!”

  “Then you understand that because they have stolen Iraq’s warheads and Iraq has threatened any country thattwould grant them safe harbor, they are in peril.”

  “You took me away from my meeting to explain the obvious?”

  “No, sir, I called you because there is a ship... a sub in the area that can get a message to them. Washington can lean on our friends in the Indian Ocean region and make them provide safety for that flight. Washington can promise them or threaten them to get that agreement. They can contact the Concorde and let them know what to do and where to go. Washington has to act, and they must do it now! But the transmission to the sub must come from NORAD and that authorization must come from you.”

  The NSA Advisor stood motionless for a moment as he took this in. Clearly, Miller was correct. Washington had to exercise its influence to provide the Concorde safety, and it needed to be done now. “How long do we have before the Concorde will have to turn away from India?”

  “I’m not sure exactly. About twenty to thirty minutes.”

  “I’m going to see the president now. I’ll see what can be done, but for your information, we have no close friends in that area. So don’t hold your breath.”

  Miller turned to Brodie, who had been listening to the conversation. “If they can’t go to India, where else could they try?”

  “You tell me who on that flight is so important to you!”

  “I can’t do that, Captain.”

  “I didn’t think so.” Brodie turned and put his hand on his chin, thinking.

  “I don’t suppose we could get any help from Southeast Asia.”

  “Oh, they’d be glad to shoot it down for us, but that’s about all.”

  Concorde Flight

  Amindivi Islands

  Two hundred twenty-five miles from the coast of India

  Rob looked at all the expressionless faces around the cabin. Though everyone knew what happened had been a possibility, no one was prepared for it.

  “I guess we’re just going to have to fly into some airport, take the fuel we need, and leave,” Rob said with a sigh. “Any suggestions as to where?”

  “Well, there are five large airbases in Thailand that we built during the Vietnam War,” Wright suggested.

  “Yes, but Thailand is on the ocean, and they’d see us coming!” Logan pointed out. “They might have enough time to launch aircraft, but you can bet that the air defense around their airbases are on alert.”

  “Do you have any other suggestions?”

  “I do,” Lucky spoke up. They were the first words he had spoken in the past hour. “I say we go to Vietnam. Hanoi. I say we fly right into their international airport, take the fuel we need, and fight our way out, if necessary. After what that war cost us, I say they owe it to us!”

  Wright’s eyes widened. “That’s insane!”

  “Sir, the Navy already has their ships positioned.”

  “They probably do. It’s busy work, Sergeant. Do you really think that the U.S. will risk going to war over us? Especially when they can’t handle what’s happening in Iraq? Our gover
nment and big business has too much at stake... invested in that country to take any action against it. Colonel,” Wright paused to get Rob’s attention, “if push comes to shove, and we get into deep trouble, they’ll hang us out to dry.”