AMERICA ONE - NextGen (Book 5)

by WADE, T I

  “Understood,” replied Ryan.

  “Back to the troop movements. The Nevada base is tiny, a plus for us. Only so many troops can be moved in at any one time. We can monitor all movement into Nevada from neighboring states. I believe that the Pentagon is worried about us hitting any incoming jets, but are thinking we can’t see ground movement. I believe they have already forgotten what we did to those tanks in the Middle East years ago, as much of the ground movements are trailered Abrams tanks heading toward Nevada from the east, west and north.”

  “How many?” Ryan asked.

  “We have recorded 38 ground movements toward your base. Seven vehicles have entered Nevada from California and are going south from the Reno area; Abrams tanks. They are only travelling after dark and moving in two-hour intervals. Six transporters have been spotted heading toward Creech Air Force Base from Nellis, carrying Bradley fighting vehicles. Of course it could be normal traffic, but the air traffic into Creech and Nellis has increased since you left, and especially after Air Force One left you. I have seen this type of movement before. It is normal preparation for an attack.”

  “When would be the best time to attack our base?” Ryan questioned.

  VIN immediately had an answer. “When we leave for Africa,” was his simple suggestion.

  “I agree,” added Jonesy from the bridge.

  “When this base is least protected, and our eyes up there are following you over the U.S. and then the Atlantic,” added Allen Saunders down in Nevada.

  “If I had been given orders to attack the base in Nevada, I would do it when there was least resistance, and our attention is somewhere else,” said Michael Pitt up in America One.

  “Why would your country’s commander attack his own country?” asked Roo, trying hard to think like Homo sapiens. “He could hurt people.”

  “Hurting people, even millions of them, is of no interest to the President,” Ryan replied. “Captain Pete, let Roo watch the recording of my meeting with him. My glasses worked perfectly. Thank you for these old glasses, Igor, Boris. I will allow Commander Joot to see my meeting with the President down here, and then I might send a copy over to China when needed. I doubt Washington allows freedom of speech with this new administration. It seems that the citizens of the country aren’t allowed to do anything anymore. I’ve been watching the news down here. It all seems so false. We never arrived. It is all sports or advertisements, and when politics comes on, it seems only good news and backslapping Washington.”

  “We have been monitoring a few channels up here, mostly the main news channels,” added Captain Pete. “Nothing has changed since we left, except that there is more of the backslapping, as you put it, boss.”

  “So we take off, fly out of the country, and they attack our base, hoping to get their spoils you promised them, plus any of our secret equipment that might be there,” added Jonesy.

  “I would call that a good plan, the only plan they can work,” said VIN. “They attack our base. It will take us 5 or 6 hours to get out of the country. Maybe they can jam any radio transmissions we might receive from Nevada, and then we are out of sight of land and suddenly find no air refueling. They think they will take us out down here in one blow, and Ryan, public enemy number one, is secretly taken out at the same time, and nobody knows what to do and we are afraid to fire and destroy our own equipment on our own base. It’s the only logical conclusion.”

  “That sounds about right,” said Ryan. “Why would the President and Secretary of State come and visit me personally, except to see if I’m actually here and to lower my guard. They could have sent a congressman, a senator, or even the commander of Nellis.”

  “So I reckon when you leave, nothing of importance, not our laser equipment or the new equipment you have ordered, not a shuttle or anything from space must be left on the ground when the Dead Chicken takes off for Africa,” said Captain Pete.

  “And you, Ryan and family, had better be somewhere else at the time,” suggested Jonesy.

  “Actually nobody from space, or who is going to space, should remain on Earth either,” said VIN.

  “Another point,” interrupted Igor. He wasn’t so much a military man, but was thinking along the same lines. “We are expecting to redirect our shuttle landings to our new base in the Sahara once the tarmac is installed in fifteen days. If the President only gave you ten days from your meeting then it seems to me that he isn’t intending to keep his side of the bargain; that of building you a new runway in Africa either.”

  “Captain Pete?” Ryan asked.

  “As of three hours ago, there was still activity down on the new runway. The cameras can’t tell if the area has been actually leveled to lay down asphalt, but it could be a ruse to make us think that.”

  “Well, it is pretty bad being semi-blind down here,” Ryan continued, “and I don’t want to bring down any more equipment. We have 78 hours before we take off to be in our ten-day window to give our second cargo load a chance to leave the country. I think Bob Mathews has all our answers, and I think we need to make our intentions clear with a friendly country instead of the one we are in. How long will it take to ready SB-III for reentry?”

  “Thirteen hours. We are already removing her cargo,” replied Fritz on the radio, in charge of loading and unloading the shuttles and mining craft.

  “Mr. Jones, a change of plan,” continued Ryan from below. “Mrs. Jones, you and Mr. Pitt return in SB-I. I’m switching you over in case Mr. Pitt is rusty. No offense, Mr. Pitt. Mrs. Pitt, you fly down with our chief astronaut in SB-III one hour behind, and once you are cleared to fly in atmospheric conditions again by the Joneses you will both take command of SB-I again. I have valuable equipment coming in: 19 tons of parts, equipment and the latest computers I ordered once we had radio communications with the companies I have dealt with before. Our guys up there can put the parts together. At least 6 tons of it can head into space when we take off for Africa, as well as crew needed up there. The shuttles can return to our new country once we are safe. The rest of us will head out in the Dead Chicken and our two Gulfstreams. I will repack the Dead Chicken once the new equipment arrives, as I’m thinking that at least one load is better than nothing. Mr. Mathews, are you being patched through on microphone from the Dead Chicken?”

  “Yes, hi Captain Pete, Igor, Boris, Fritz, and all my old buddies up there. I have been listening in. I need a secure link to a military radio directed on these co-ordinates, and on the following radio frequency. Captain Pete, can you set that up for me?”

  Captain Pete used the onboard computers to patch into the frequency, and then sent out a message of introduction.

  “Life has certainly changed in communications since we left. Earth is nearly back to the Stone Age,” he mumbled to anyone listening as he worked on the computer. Several seconds later a reply came through.

  “America One, read you loud and clear. I’m just getting the person Bob would like to talk to. Here he is. Can you patch us through to Bob, over?”

  “You are through. Go ahead, Nevada,” said Captain Pete. Everyone was able to hear the conversation.

  “The weather is beautiful in Melbourne this time of year.”

  “Yes, too cold for vegetation though,” was the reply from a new voice all could hear had the same new accent Bob Mathews had.

  “Doug, is that you?” Bob asked.

  “Dead on, mate,” replied Doug whoever-he-was.

  “We have a secure line for an unknown period. There are a dozen or so questions a few friends of mine and I want to ask. I will start with mine, so get ready. One, are you friendly with Hugo Chavez’s old country? Two, can you use your aircraft to air-refuel a U.S. C-5 from that country in 72 hours? Three, if so, can you base it there for a week or so? Four, we might need two of your refueling aircraft, 3,000 miles apart. Five, how friendly are you with Gadhafi’s old country? Six, can you airlift runway construction equipment into there? And seven, do you have a base in your country for our temporary use? Bob,
we need 10,000 feet of hardtop in a nice hot-weather climate. That’s all I have for you. I’m sure my friends have more questions, over.”

  “Give me a few minutes, Bob. Any other questions?”

  “I need to know the strength of your Air Force if you are attacked by another country,” continued Ryan, not introducing himself. “Your friendship status with the Land of Zion, and North Africa as a whole. Can you deliver midsized earthmoving equipment into the second country Bob mentioned, by air? Finally, your status with the USA? That’s all I have for you.”

  “Right mates, the answers are already….” said Doug. Suddenly he was cut off.

  “Somebody is trying to jam our conversation,” added Captain Pete, and Bob Mathews gave him a second frequency to switch to.

  “Somebody out there doesn’t like the freedom of speech anymore. I can guess who. Can you guys? A hint; that good old freedom-styled country who used to run the world, and still thinks it does,” said Doug, once communications had returned.

  “How can you tell?” Ryan asked.

  “The Asians have different ways of doing things. They might be listening, but often we can’t tell. The guys south of the Canadian border are blatant, in your face, and without any thought of the damage they could do. Just be careful what you say. You never know who is listening, unless it’s the NSA. Then you do.”

  Doug laughed and the crew realized that this smaller country didn’t seem to be scared of other nations, especially the one Ryan was speaking from. Doug continued. “Bob, your questions. Yes to 1, 2, and 3. Number 4, two tankers for a Charlie 5, yes. Gadhafi’s old home, better ties than where you are, and yes to all your other questions. Do you want me to begin these operations?”

  “Affirmative,” said Ryan.

  “Got that. The questions from the second caller. Question one, we hold hands, and are lifetime friends. Anything you want, just ask. We all hate the same countries, and are all friends. Pure gold or diamonds in this area speaks louder than politics. Last question. The good old USA has few friends due to the latest administration. Many of us have a three-year old alliance including Canada, the whole of Australasia, South America, and much of Europe and the Middle East. It is called ‘The New Free Alliance.’ We don’t do business with the USA, Russia or China, we don’t answer their calls, and we will all defend each other if any of our alliance partners are attacked. Don’t get us wrong, guys up there, we love the American people, but we have been let down too many times by their governments. The same attitude goes for China and Russia, who are both now out on a limb and by themselves. As for the old pits of aggression: North Korea is semi-controlled by South Korea. Iran, Iraq, and Syria, another new alliance, are surrounded by enemies, our allies, so they are much like a tiger without teeth.”

  Again the frequency was attacked and the communications dissolved into hissing sounds.

  “I have my answers, Bob,” added Ryan to the hissing. “Thanks for your help. Guys, you have your orders. We will meet again when you return, out.”

  Captain Pete chatted with the crew for the rest of the day. The crew found out that Captain Pete and Dr. Nancy were to marry, and that the Captain had hoped for a wild party and getting hitched in Las Vegas.

  Dr. Nancy, who arrived as the meeting ended, was cheered and welcomed onto the bridge with fanfare. She blushed, and Maggie Jones realized that Captain Pete, at least 20 years her senior, was a very lucky man.

  Jonesy reckoned that it was celebration time, but was halted in his tracks by his wife, who dragged him off to their apartment to rest. There would be plenty of time in the future.

  Ryan watched as the first shuttle came in a day later, and then the second, exactly to the minute, an hour after that. The computers controlled the reentries and landings and had them down pat on this part of the world, and he wondered if there would be any hiccups at a new location.

  An hour before SB-I came in, Allen and Kathy Saunders launched in SB-II full of recently delivered cargo: two tons of the most modern electronics the private sector had. They would not return to Earth, but would stand guard with their second laser until the other two shuttles refueled and were back in space. Commander Joot, bored with his confined stay on Earth, headed up with Allen and Kathy. That made it easier to keep him hidden, and now that there was fuel above for his craft, he could use one of his two Matt craft without its shield extended and add to the spacecraft numbers. Captain Pete was sure every craft was being scrutinized every minute of the day in orbit around Earth. Ryan also knew that every missile, every tube ready for launch in several countries, was most probably following every move.

  Only the first stage liftoff and the whole reentry were extreme danger times for the shuttles. He didn’t want to advertise, or have their blue shields noticed from the ground, and on liftoff they were only turned on once the shuttles ignited their second stage and were virtually in space. He hadn’t yet risked reentry with the shields on yet. Nobody knew what would happen to his craft. Commander Joot said it wouldn’t be any different, but Ryan wasn’t risking a possible loss of shuttle and crew until they were absolutely needed.

  “Mr. Richmond, we have a commotion at the outer gate,” said Lieutenant Walls an hour after the second shuttle had arrived, and Ryan couldn’t understand what Walls was talking about.

  “A commotion with our Air Force personnel?” Ryan asked, puzzled.

  “No, with civilians standing outside the gate.”

  “Civilians! What do civilians have to do with us?” Ryan asked, still not understanding.

  “They want to go to Mars, sir. They want to leave the country.”

  “That’s impossible. We can’t take American civilians with us,”

  “Then you had better tell them, sir. It seems the shuttle launches are getting some attention in Las Vegas. Mr. Noble and a few others are ready to go with you. My son and grandson arrived an hour ago. May I let them in, sir?”

  “Of course,” was Ryan’s reply.

  Ryan headed out. Jonesy was about to take off in his Gulfstream, which had recently been shuttled in by Air Force personnel from Nellis, with Ryan’s own Gulfstream. Ryan heard the aircraft taxiing down the runway, and knew Jonesy would be doing the flying, as Maggie had just landed with Michael Pitt. He knew that only Saturn Jones and Mars Noble were the passengers aboard. Mars had pleaded with Ryan to go along once his father had given him permission. The kid wanted to see a little of the United States at low altitude, after all.

  Ryan had phoned Colorado hours earlier and told Jonesy’s parents to meet their son at the old Denver International airport. Captain Pete in America One had registered the atmospheric flight with the Pentagon, from Nevada to Denver and back. They had not responded.

  As the Gulfstream left the runway, Ryan looked up and saw two jet trails high in the sky toward the west. They would certainly follow Jonesy’s aircraft there and back, and Captain Pete had his finger ready on the laser trigger. So would Allen Saunders, when his shuttle was over the States.

  “Thanks for coming, everyone, but may I ask what you all want?” Ryan shouted through a megaphone given to him by VIN.

  “Come with you!” shouted one.

  “Take my children!” shouted a lady.

  “I will pay you!” shouted a third.

  “Unfortunately, we are not welcome here in your country. This country is not ours anymore. We are considered illegal aliens by your government, and we are not Americans on this base. That privilege was taken away from us. I don’t think your government would appreciate us taking you with. They could call it kidnapping, and we have no room. We live on another planet with no oxygen or water, no swimming, no television, no sports, no hobbies, and very few luxuries. You can die at any time, and it is no place for the faint hearted.”

  That seemed to convince many of the hundred or so people staring at him through the wire. They slowly began to walk back to their cars and head away grumbling. A few remained.

  One said, “I am Nickolas Bennett, Head of the Ast
rophysics Department at UCLA. We picked up your arrival on our long wave radio. My wife and son and I would like to join you. My wife has a Masters in chemistry, and we believe we could be an asset to your organization.”

  “Lieutenant Walls, get a few men, remember, like we used to when we interviewed Mr. Noble and Mr. Jones, and allow the people I accept through the gate.”

  “Yes, Mr. Richmond, sir!” Lieutenant Walls responded, smiling. He and his men had done this dozens of times, except that this time there was no paperwork for the new arrivals. There was no paperwork on the base at all. The family of three entered.

  Ryan then saw a Tesla pull forward as the others gave it space. It was white, a four door model, and dusty, very dusty. It looked like it had been driven hard. He was quite shocked to see his old pal Martin Brusk, a very pretty lady, two teenage girls and a young boy get out.

  “Not you as well, Martin?” shouted Ryan. “I just paid you for your electrical components.”

  “I’m thinking of a temporary vacation. Somewhere where somebody might appreciate my engineering, Ryan. Got room for five of us?”

  “Of course, come in,” Ryan responded, smiling.

  “Remember me?” asked an older man. He did look familiar. “Bill Withers, former Head of NASA, now unemployed, retired, and I need a new life.” Bill Withers had worked for Ryan but had let him down pretty badly being a spy for the last government.

  “Sorry Bill, you had your chance, and you are out of luck I’m afraid.”

  Ryan let in one more family. A young family with three good-looking boys aged between five and ten. The man was a manufacturing engineer and his wife taught biology at the University of Nevada.

  By that time, most of the people had gone. Ryan decided that he had enough new blood, except for one very pretty young blonde girl who was sitting on the front of an old 1970s Volkswagen soft top. He asked VIN to go and find the lonely and single German who had been squeezed into one of the cockpits during reentry, to find a mate.