Assault on Alpha Base (18 page)

The helicopter behind Vikki burst into flames. The explosion knocked her to the ground. Waves of heat washed over her as a second helicopter exploded. Her ears pounded. Bullets erupted around her. Renault pushed up from the ground and started yelling to his men.

“Get on the remaining chopper—
now!”

Vikki felt a hand around her waist; her hair had come undone and now flew into her eyes. Looking up through her hair, she saw Harding swim in and out of focus. She nodded dully and struggled up. Harding helped her.

As they staggered forward, the sound of an incoming helicopter pierced the air. On the other side of the bunker an HH-53 dipped to the ground and landed, not fifty yards away.

Chapter 20

Sunday, 19 June, 0001 local

Alpha Base

Manny brought the HH-53 down in a combat landing: descend as fast as possible and pull up at the last moment, just before hitting the ground. McGriffin directed him away from the burning choppers—he didn’t want to land too close to the terrorists.

They approached the bunkers at a dizzy rate, going down into the crater. Smoke and dust covered them, masking the last part of the descent. The bunkers were spaced fifty yards apart in a staggered pattern; they bore for a spot between three bunkers. As they approached the ground, they dipped below the top of the bunkers, hiding them from sight.

As McGriffin opened the door, the super Jolly Green Giant greased onto the ground. The bunkers rose at least a good five feet higher than the top of the helicopter.

McGriffin grasped the walkie-talkie, pistol, and shotgun, waving off Manny’s offer of the flare gun. “I can’t carry anything else. If you lose contact with me, let’s rendezvous just south of here, two bunkers away.”

“Rog.”

McGriffin leaped out onto the dirt just as the helicopter roared upward. It took him a few seconds to get his bearings. Spotting the burning choppers out of the corner of his eye, he ducked and ran diagonally across the clearing. He was one bunker away from the chaos of burning helicopters.

He scrambled up the side of the dirt bunker. Kicking away sand and rocks, he climbed up the sloping embankment, hugging the side and keeping in the dark. He was ten feet from the top when he decided to stop. The terrorists should be just on the other side of the bunker, and were probably waiting for him.

He moved sideways, carefully trying not to disturb the fragile balance of rock and sand. Shouting and a rain of gunfire peppered the ground around him. They were literally shooting in the dark; most of the spotlights on the bunkers had been shot out. He scrunched up close to the dirt. Hanging on the side of the dirt covered bunker, he felt like a fly clinging for his life.

The men moved on. McGriffin moved cautiously sideways. Slipping once on a false toehold, he pulled himself back up to the military crest. Manny’s chopper had disappeared, shooting up into the night sky where he waited for McGriffin’s call.

He reached the bunker’s edge. Holding on to a clump of cactus, McGriffin took a cautious peek around the corner.

Six men ringed the remaining helicopter. Weapons drawn, they crouched with their backs to each other, silently guarding the surviving HH-53.

McGriffin counted seven of the white nuclear weapons storage containers. Squinting, he spotted more barrels inside the craft. He couldn’t tell how many were on board, but there seemed not to be more than fifteen total.

Two men gestured at each other, standing between the seven barrels and the helicopter. Another ten men stood tensely around, their weapons pointing in the air.

McGriffin pulled back and breathed deeply. Eighteen men, he thought. He’d have to forget taking the chopper by force. But what could he do? Armed with a shotgun and pistol, he’d be lucky to get five of the terrorists before being shredded to pieces. Even radio contact with Manny wouldn’t help him.

He
had
brought down one chopper earlier tonight, but that was blind luck. Besides, the HH-53 hadn’t been more than twenty feet above him. No chance of getting that close again. McGriffin breathed a prayer.

It started to look like the only other option would be to have Falcon One come in and blow the remaining helicopter away; but how could he convince them the nukes wouldn’t detonate?

If only the nuclear weapons weren’t on board! It would be a piece of cake.

McGriffin started moving away from the edge when the gunfire rang out. Scrambling back for a quick look, his heart stopped: one of the terrorists held a hostage in front of him, threatening a man with a pistol. The hostage slumped forward in the man’s arms. Her long blond hair drooped nearly to her waist.

Vikki Osborrn was in the middle of the confrontation.

Vikki …
here?

McGriffin lurched back. He tried to slow his breathing. He felt giddy, lightheaded. He knew he was hyperventilating, but the sight of Vikki almost floored him.

With shaking hands he pulled out the walkie-talkie and spoke in a low, desperate voice. He made sure Manny understood the instructions perfectly before he started away: no matter what happened,
the fighters had to make sure that chopper didn’t leave the ground!
Even if it put his own life in danger.

Feeling sick to his stomach, he crawled back across the bunker to where he could slip to a clearing, away from where the fighters would be attacking. From there, Manny would pick him up … after the fireworks.

Vikki tried to lay limp in Harding’s arms. The dead weight should set him off balance, and more importantly, he might ignore her if the shooting started again. As Harding dragged her back to the helicopter, the physicist sparred with Renault.

“It’s as simple as that, Colonel. One helicopter cannot carry all the nuclear weapons and the rest of your men. Some of them must remain until the helicopter can return.”

Renault took a step toward the helicopter but backed down as Harding shook his pistol at him. “My men will not allow the helicopter to leave without them.”

“They will if you order them, Colonel. I’ve seen your men in action. They will do whatever you tell them.”

Renault swept an arm at his men. The crew surrounding the helicopter scanned the night sky. They dragged a fiber-optic guided missile, captured from the security policemen. One of the men held the launcher on his shoulder.

“You’re right, Doctor. But my men are not stupid, either. Why do you think they follow me? If they were complacent, they would not be here. They will obey me—but they will also do whatever it takes to survive.” Renault took a step forward. “How many of those weapons do you need, anyway? Are you going to be able to dismantle the safeguards on all of them?”

Harding stepped backward. He reached the door of the chopper. Feeling his way with his elbow, he stepped inside. He trained his pistol on Renault the entire time. “Order your men to back off.”

“I refuse to—”

“Incoming!”
Renault’s men sprawled to the ground in an automatic reflex. A whine escalated to a white roar as bullets peppered the ground. Renault dove toward the helicopter; Harding fell inside. Glass crashed on Vikki. She scrambled to her knees, her vision blurred by dripping blood.

Eight men fell dead to the ground, caught in the fighter’s rain of hot metal. A few tried crawling to safety, but those who came to help them were mowed down. The hail of bullets marched across the clearing.

The men with the missile held their ground. Following the fighter’s progress, they ignored the spray of bullets and tracked the jet in their infrared sights. Just as the fighter started to pull up, they lit the missile’s tail.

Spurting flames ten yards long, the missile raced out of the bore. Hundreds of feet of fiber-optic wire spooled out, clicking against the armature. Guiding the missile in, it took less than two seconds for the device to intersect the fighter. The missile detonated.

The fighter veered off, belching black smoke. Seconds later a thundering roar filled the sky.

Vikki pushed herself into a corner. She covered her head with her hands and tried to make herself small.

Harding dragged himself over to the pilot; no one else was on board. Koch still grasped the stick, frozen in his seat. Harding held a pistol to his head. “Take off.”

“I... can’t …”

Harding pulled the trigger back. “I said, take off. You’ve got five seconds to get this bird off the ground or I’m putting a bullet through your head. One, two, three—”

“Wait, dammit.” Renault stumbled on board. “We got the jet. We can still get the rest of the men on board—”

Harding coolly whipped around and pumped two shots into him. The colonel slumped forward, falling just inside the helicopter. Vikki ducked and closed her eyes. Things were happening too fast.

Turning back to Koch, Harding clicked the trigger again and said, “I’ve got four shots and you’ve got two seconds. One—”

Koch punched at the auxiliary power unit. Dust kicked up from the chopper’s blades accompanied the high-pitched whining. The sound came from a Dantean symphony: with the front windshield gone, glass, wind, and a cacophony of noise crashed inside the helicopter. The chopper lifted only inches off the ground, then slowly rotated around.

Two of Renault’s men scrambled to get on the helicopter. Harding spent three bullets killing them; they fell out the door to the ground. Harding turned back to Koch.

“Get out of here!” Harding yelled over the wind.

“Only one engine is up!”

“Now!” Harding put the gun to pilot’s head.

Koch strained with the controls. The other engine ran up. Koch pulled up on the collective to get altitude, then pushed forward on the stick. Gritty sand whipped through the helicopter.

Across from Vikki the ground twirled crazily through the open cargo door. The helicopter tipped, and she felt she would slide out.

Shots tore up from below them, piercing the deck and ricocheting inside the cabin. The white storage barrels knocked against each other, straining against hastily lashed ropes. As the chopper rose higher in the air, the shots stopped.

Vikki struggled up. In the cockpit Harding grasped the right seat and stood with his legs bent, ready to cushion any jolt. He rested his pistol on the crook of his arm. Vikki steadied herself and walked uncertainly across the deck. Blood caking on her face blurred her vision.

Harding caught her out of the corner of his eye. He cracked a grin. “Half an hour and we’re home free.” He jerked his head at the nine white barrels lashed together in the rear of the craft. “We’ve done it. Each one of those babies will pull down at least a hundred million. Pick any place you want to live, Vikki—anywhere in the world, and it’s yours.”

They left the glow from Alpha Base behind them. As they headed for the mountains, Vikki couldn’t help feeling that the original purpose for the raid had slipped away as well.

Chapter 21

Sunday, 19 June, 0032 local

Alpha Base

E&E: Escape and Evasion. All USAF Academy cadets go through a grueling three-week survival course after their freshman year, learning E&E.

It was a skill you never forgot.

McGriffin E&E’ed through the bunkers, running in a crouch, fanning his weapon around. He ran silently, moving quickly from shadow to shadow in a random fashion, never staying in one place for too long. Every few seconds he scanned the bunkers jutting up around him and tried to pick out movement, any hint that a sniper might be targeting him.

Once he E&E’ed around another bunker, he would reach the rendezvous point, south of where he had been dropped off. He ran up the crater, and although the slope was not steep, it still drained him of energy.

He almost threw his shotgun down—the weapon seemed heavier with every step he took. As he moved farther away from the terrorists, he grew more reckless in the E&E tactics. Soon he was running pell-mell out in the open.

Falcon One screamed overhead. Moments later the sickening explosion from the F-16’s demise turned his stomach. Then the sound of the stolen helicopter escaping Alpha Base made him vomit. He had to stop and puke out his guts as the HH-53 rose over the bunker and into the night.

How many deaths would he be responsible for?
The nukes on board would certainly be used against American lives.

Stumbling into a clearing, he whirled to check his position. He couldn’t tell for certain, but it looked like the rendezvous area. He fumbled with his walkie-talkie. He drew in a breath and said weakly, “Manny.”

“Be there shortly.”

McGriffin pressed against a bunker. The stars burned serenely down, punching through the haze that permeated Alpha Base. The acrid smell was almost gone, but in its place rose the smell of something more macabre: burning flesh. McGriffin shivered, thinking about how many had died that night.

Manny’s 53 bore straight down on him. It was one thing to be on board during a combat landing; standing by the landing zone was another thing entirely.

The chopper fell out of the sky. With its landing lights off, it appeared as a dark blob, blocking out the stars. Just when McGriffin felt the wind from the blades, the helicopter lighted on the dirt.

McGriffin ducked and sprinted toward the craft. He swung a leg up and pulled himself on board.

Manny gave him a quick thumbs-up before taking off.

McGriffin pushed forward. The red cabin lights glowed dimly, outlining the instruments. He settled down in the right-hand seat and waited until Manny gained altitude before speaking.

“The F-16 didn’t stop them.”

“I saw. At least the pilot punched out.”

“Thank God for that. But what about the chopper?”

Manny was silent for a moment. “Your guess is as good as mine. I’m still in contact with Falcon Two—he lost him too.”

“What? How could he let the chopper slip away!”

“Conductive plastics, remember? The other HH-53 has a stealth coating just like us, so he’s virtually invisible.”

McGriffin mulled it over. “How about an update from the secure link? Have STRATCOM and the other agencies stopped squabbling yet?”

Manny glanced at the inboard digital clock. He worked his mouth wordlessly. “Another half hour and the DOE boys and girls should arrive from the Nevada Test Site. That’s about the time the rest of the fighters should start getting here. A satellite IR and radar search using national technical means has started, concentrating on all possible landing sites.”

McGriffin snorted. “Probably means they don’t know what the heck is going on, either. Anything else?”

“You’re still the on-site commander. Until they restore communications, and they’re able to get Colonel DeVries or someone else out here, you’re the senior ranking officer. The civil engineers are out patching the runway and access road—they should have it pretty well fixed up for the incoming crews. There should be enough security policemen to make a sweep of Alpha Base in the same time frame.”

“Crap.” McGriffin struck the console with a fist. “Still, what’s taking security so long to get there? I thought Alpha
Base was supposed to be nearly invincible?”

Manny was silent for a moment before answering. “I’m not apologizing for them, or anything like that, Bill—”

McGriffin looked quickly up. He felt suddenly bad yelling at Manny; especially when the chopper pilot was the only sympathetic guy around for miles. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“S’all right. It’s just that I can’t really blame them. They did have half their force out there on Alpha Base, and with the other half in the dorms, you’d think with all communications out, there’d be some screw-ups. Hell, we’re lucky we were around.”

McGriffin settled back in his seat. “Right. But to think we can’t even find that helicopter. By the time DOE gets here, no telling where they’ll be.”

He looked out the cockpit. They flew a mile above ground level, making a slow sweep of Alpha Base. Below them everything seemed serene. The fires flickered low.

The smoke slowly cleared, bathing Alpha Base in a pastoral light. If it weren’t for who-knows-how-many nukes were missing, the setting would have been placid.

The idyllic sense of well-being lulled his memories back.
Vikki
—
what was she doing there, and what did she have to do with it? Was she kidnapped? She couldn’t have anything to do with it!

Or could she?

McGriffin frowned. Something tugged at his mind. Things just didn’t make sense.

But what if she was part of all this? What if she had tried to learn everything she could about Alpha Base—and if so, then who else better to befriend than one of the Wendover command post commanders? What better way to ensure that the terrorists got all the information they needed?

But she
couldn’t
have been set up to meet him. No one knew where he was going that day they met, not even himself. And she didn’t get any information from him at all. Those times he was with her, she seemed above reproach.

But yet …

And then it hit him.

“Manny, how’s your fuel?”

“Uh, pretty good. No need to worry. With just two of us, we can stay up here another few hours, although I’m not used to flying this high.”

McGriffin set his jaw. “I have a hunch where those terrorists might have gone.”

“Say the word.”

“Head northwest for the mountains. There’s a clearing where they just might be able to resupply from.”

Manny looked puzzled. “The mountains? That’s the last place they’ll try. If you’re thinking of someone flying in there to get them out, the desert has a lot more flat spots to use as landing areas.”

“I know. And that’s why I hope I’m wrong.”

Manny stared at him for a moment before shrugging. “If you say so.”

He swung the craft from its pattern and started climbing; the mountains hit ten thousand feet, and he wanted to make sure the search didn’t ruin their day.

Harding kept his pistol trained on Koch the entire flight. The HH-53 pushed to make it over the mountains, straining to fly in the thin air. In the back, Vikki perspired from the heat and watched. Even with the cargo door open the stealth composite on the helicopter’s exterior made the inside of the chopper feel like an oven.

She studied Harding during the bumpy trip. Wind careening off the rugged peaks shot up and caught them in turbulence, bouncing the craft in random jolts. Harding’s face glowed red, reflecting the dials from the control console. He was a different man from when they first started. Possessed—caught up in the rush of control.

It seemed the idealism had died. And from his remarks once they took off from Alpha Base, a craving for power had replaced the enthusiastic élan to save the world. Power and money. She turned her head away. At least their main goal would be accomplished: showing the world how easy it is to steal these weapons of mass destruction.

The pilot turned his head to Harding. “We’re approaching the rendezvous site.”

“Take her in.” Harding brandished his pistol. “Don’t try anything funny—no quick movements, nothing. Just land the helicopter. Understand?”

Koch stiffly nodded yes.

Soon the chopper stopped its forward motion. Koch reached for the microphone. Harding shook his head. “Radio silence. You don’t want them to find us, do you?” Koch dropped his hand.

When they finally bounced at landing, Koch looked to Harding. Harding smiled. Putting down the pistol, he said, “Secure the chopper. Good work.”

Koch looked relieved. He turned to power down the craft’s instruments. As he swiveled, Harding whipped up his pistol and fired the silencer point-blank into Koch’s skull. Blood splattered over the console.

Reloading, Harding quickly pumped another round into Koch’s shoulder. Harding rubbed some of the warm blood on his chest, making it appear as if he were injured too. He started dragging Koch out of the seat. Looking around, he spotted Vikki.

“Help me before they get to the door.”

Vikki struggled upright, shocked. In a daze she stepped over Renault’s body and took one of Koch’s arms. Grunting, they swung the dead pilot out of the seat and piled him next to Renault. Just as they finished, a head poked through the still open cargo door.

Harding motioned to the white barrels in the rear. He feigned pain. “Hurry—unload the weapons and get them aboard the aircraft.”

The man pulled himself up and widened his eyes at the bodies. Vikki recognized him as one of Renault’s South American recruits. He knelt beside Renault and whispered. “Colonel?”

“Renault is dead. We barely made it out … everybody else died. Now quickly, before we’re followed.”

The man crossed himself and stuck his head out the cargo door. He yelled in Spanish, and instantly three men appeared at the chopper door.

Harding spoke to the one in charge. “The girl and I will take care of the bodies.” The man grunted, and with the help of the other three started rolling the nuclear weapons out of the helicopter.

Harding and Vikki dragged the bodies out of the craft. Moving away from the C-130, they deposited them in the brush. Harding wiped his hands when they were finished. “Once we’re airborne they’ll never get the whole story. Fifteen minutes to load, and we’re heading for Baja.”

“What about Renault, Anthony? Don’t you think it’s a little suspicious he didn’t return alive—and we’re the only ones on the raid that did?”

Harding looked cold. “Just be thankful that you came back. But now I’m starting to wonder if it’s a good thing or not.” He turned for the C-130.

Vikki drew in a breath and started after him.