Invasion USA 3 - The Battle for Survival (12 page)

The AC-47 banked as the others had done and once away from the air base, rose to join the others all congregating above him.

“Let me know when you want a job in my Air Force, Carlos,”
stated General Rodriquez over the radio.
“It seems that apart from sniper fire, we are over the worst.”

“Are you sure you didn’t orchestrate that attack so you could steal my aircraft, nephew Carlos?”
added Alvarez, the Commandant over the radio.

“Looks like it,” replied Carlos, “but we lost two good jeeps in the process and I will have to explain that when we get home, Uncle. Sally, how is your Super Tweet? Is she damaged? Shall we give her back?” continued Carlos over the radio.

“No way, José,”
replied Sally.
“She is fine and the gauges haven’t moved. She flies like a dream. It’s so nice to have jets again for a change.”

“Well, if that nephew of mine doesn’t marry you, I want it back. It’s your wedding present, but until then, it still belongs to the Colombian Police Force,”
stated the Commandant.

“My wedding present!”
replied Sally.
“But the creep hasn’t even asked me yet!”

“Maybe he will very soon, that is if you can use the in-flight refueling system and don’t have to swim home,”
was the commandant’s smiling reply.

“Roger, I’m checking it out,”
replied Sally.
“I was trained on it. The nozzle, if it’s original, will fit into our system. Blue Moon, you have the phone. Call up Patterson Key and tell him we need Mother Goose over southern Cuba in about four hours.”

“That was a quick goodbye,”
added the general.
“We will clean up here. Let us know when you are returning. I will keep my phone on. Philippe, Manuel, Carlos, fly well and keep me in the loop about our gunship upgrades. That display took out two whole warehouse blocks, very powerful.”

Carlos rose up to meet the rest of the flight as goodbyes were continued over the radio. Uncle Philippe and his father were aboard
Easy Girl
, he found out as he got into a loose formation with
Easy Girl
and
Blue Moon
on a reduced-power cruise so that his aircraft could keep up.

Sally, who would be the only one to need refueling, flew on ahead as their slower cruise speed was below her minimum speed.

The flight took them over the northern border of Colombia and Panama ninety minutes later.
Mother Goose
was already in radio contact with Sally a hundred miles ahead.

Five hours later they directly flew over Havana while Sally was being refueled, now a couple of hundred miles behind them over Jamaica. It had taken her thirty anxious minutes getting the antiquated system attached to
Mother Goose
who had met her over Jamaica, just in case she couldn’t take on fuel and needed to land.

Thirty minutes later her tanks were full and with
Mother Goose
at a fast cruise they turned towards MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa.

The empty C-130s were down to their last reserves of fuel over Cape Coral, Florida when Sally caught up to Carlos and waggled her wings at him as she passed, a hundred miles an hour faster. She left
Mother Goose
with them and made radio contact for approach into MacDill Air Force Base.

1st Meeting: Andrews – March

Preston’s satellite phone rang early that morning, the day after he had visited Seymour Johnson. He was sitting in bed with Martie having his morning coffee when Little Beth climbed in with them asking if the two dogs could join them, too.

“Preston Strong,” he stated answering the phone.

“Good morning, Preston, sorry to call you so early. General Patterson here. The President asked me to call everyone for a lunch meeting on Monday, March 4th. We are to meet at Andrews Air Force Base and he wants you and Martie are to fly up. Today, Preston, if you have lost track of time, is Saturday, March 2nd.”

“Thank you, General,” replied Preston. “First of all, congratulations on your latest promotion, you are certainly moving up the ladder quickly. Major last year… then colonel… and general within three months… not bad!”

“Yes, a bit of a shock to the system! I was rather happy just being a plain old Air Force major; now I run the U.S. military machine.

“Please tell the President that we will be there. What time are we to arrive?”

“The President has asked for a 12:30 pm lunch. A thirty-minute landing time before lunch is recommended,” was the reply.

“Have you heard from Carlos?” Preston asked. Martie asked him to find out if her grandfather and father had been invited. “Also, Martie asks if the invitation is being extended to her family members.”

“Yes, to both. Carlos arrived safely in Bogotá. I will be phoning California, to Detective Will Smart and Martie’s father and grandfather in an hour or two, once it’s daybreak on the West Coast. By the way, I heard from our base in Yuma late last night. Please forward the news to Captain Sally Powers if you see her before we do here in Washington that her parents are at the Yuma base, safe and waiting for her to visit.”

Preston and Martie enjoyed an extra couple of lazy hours in bed while Little Beth dressed and went out to play with the dogs. It was still freezing outside and too cold to do any aircraft refueling.

Later, Martie served an overdue breakfast of freshly baked rolls from her bread machine, butter and marmalade. The nearly forgotten aroma of fresh bread that wafted through the house was enticing enough to bring in Oliver, his sidekick and finally Little Beth to find out what smelled so good.

At the breakfast two hours later, Preston brought up the topic of food stores. He wanted the Air Force guys to help him as they knew where most of the stuff was packed and postponed their scheduled return to Seymour Johnson for another couple of days.

“I did a check of what we have in drink stores yesterday before dark,” stated Preston, enjoying his first roll. It was heaven. “Sergeant Perry and his men helped me. Currently we have stored in the hangar 342 cases of beer, 105 cases of all types of liquor, around 300 cases of soda cans and 140 cases of bottled water.” Preston read from a list he had put on the dining table to review over breakfast. “Something that I hadn’t thought of last month was how much dog and cat food we got from that gas station clearance delivery from Joe. We searched the dozens of pallets and found several cases of each. We have large cans of dog food in cases of six, and small cans of cat food in cases of 24, together with a dozen bags of dry food, enough for our animals for the rest of this year. Next year they might have to go out and hunt for their own food. I radioed Joe who said that he also has a pallet of dog food and then some. With his two large Rottweilers, the pallet will last at least six to nine months, so we won’t have hungry animals wanting food for a while.”

“What happened to checking our own food stocks?” asked Martie.

“Sorry, the boys and I thought it thirsty work and now we only have 341 and a half cases of beer left!” replied Preston sheepishly.

Martie looked at him sternly. “OK! OK! I was only pulling your leg. We finished our stocktaking before we leveled half a case!” Martie swiped at him with the dishcloth in her hand. “Carrying on with my list,” continued Preston, smiling and watching Little Beth laugh at their antics, “we have fifty cases of assorted chips and peanuts, and the same amount of candy and chocolates.”

“I should have checked the list of candy and chocolate with you. If you had asked, I would have helped you, you know!” stated Little Beth, now copying Martie and giving him a stern look.

“I’m sure we wouldn’t have so much candy in reserve if you had helped, Little Beth,” smiled Preston. “But I will remember next time, young lady. Now, to your favorite, Ms. Martie Roebels, the disgusting corned beef: five cases of six large tins per case.”

“Now that’s good news, Preston. I think I should make some for dinner,” she replied happily, winking at Little Beth. Preston’s face went white.

“Why do you do this to me? Last year there were millions of places to get takeout, now there is zero, and you want to make corned beef every week. It’s not fair! Let me continue. I checked the truck freezer Joe gave us. We have used about a quarter of the frozen meat since New Year’s Eve. We’ve got enough frozen meat for about a year, without too many parties or visitors.” He looked up at the ceiling as an idea came to him. “I suddenly have had a brainstorm. Do you know what, ladies? You and Little Beth can have your stinky corned beef tonight. The soldiers and the dogs and I have class, and we will grill packs of T-bone steaks on the gas grill outside the hangar and drink the other half of that case to get our stocktaking numbers more even. How’s that?” he asked smirking. “Maybe I’ll even invite Joe and David.”

As often happened on Preston’s farm, an impulsive idea turned into a party. Joe, David and Joe’s five sons came over, bringing chicken and pork chops to grill. These additions complemented Preston’s steaks so there was enough meat for the six soldiers, Joe and his crowd, Preston, Martie and Little Beth (who decided to give up the idea of corned beef that night), and two very full dogs. The half case of beer and a bottle of bourbon were added and, when they asked for landing instructions over the radio during the middle of the party, Preston told the incoming aircraft from Seymour Johnson to head back to base and return the next day.

Apart from a week or so of R&R, Sergeant Perry and his men had been guarding the airfield and farm since the beginning, two months earlier; it was fitting to thank them and send them off for their next break at least with a full stomach and a hangover or two.

Once again, Preston was awakened early the next morning, this time at 07:30 just after the sun has risen over the horizon. It wasn’t the satellite phone but the radio in the lounge blaring out Carlos’s voice.

“Strong Field, Strong Field, this is the Colombian Air Force. We are incoming. We have coffee and breakfast on board and will be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Hi, Colombian Air Force, this is the California Luftwaffe also incoming to Strong Field. We left earlier than you guys, Carlos, so we expect landing rights first, and I need a pee! We are also fifteen minutes out in a westerly direction,”
stated Martie’s father Michael pretty directly.

“Strong Field, Strong Field, this is Honorable Lee Wang,”
stated a familiar voice.
“I coming in with Buck, my pilot, my wife and daughter in Lady Dandy from Salt Lake City. We are very hungry and demand priority in landing for breakfast. We are ten minutes out, over or out. I don’t know which one is right.”

“What the hell!” demanded Preston, following Martie into the lounge. “We end our two-week vacation and then we get the whole world landing all at once.”

“Strong Field, Strong Field, this is a Charlie-130 coming in from the air base to your south for troop pick-up. We are three minutes out and it sounds like we have chosen your busy time. Do you want us to come back later?”

“I suppose you guys want breakfast too, like the rest of the bloody hungry horde out there?” demanded Preston in a gruff manner.

“Negative, we had breakfast at base,”
was the reply

“Hi, Preston, Sally here. I’m also on long finals from the south and would like breakfast. I’m faster than the rest and can be there shortly after my Air Force colleagues from Seymour.”

“May I gather that Jennifer is also up there somewhere?” asked Preston.

“Now how did you guess that, Preston?”
laughed Jennifer.

“Bloody hell! From zero for two weeks to having over a dozen aircraft all incoming at once. We are not a roadside diner here, guys. And Martie cannot feed all of you so quickly, so here is the information you need. The girls will have landing priority so that they can help Martie with breakfast,” replied Preston. “Temperature is 31 degrees, wind, and slight breeze from the north at 1 to 2 knots.”

“Thanks, Preston,”
continued Carlos,
“and don’t worry – breakfast is on us. Just put out the red carpet as we have some delights out of Colombia and some fresh coffee beans for you.

“By the way, Preston, we have eleven aircraft incoming, a bunch of Marines and a few dozen Air Force crew. Preston, we will use the parking area along the runway where the hospital units used to be. It’s now clear and empty, I assume?”

Preston acknowledged that it was clear, apart from the old barn. The C-130 from Seymour Johnson could already be seen to the south, on final approach and directly over Jordan Lake.

The pilot, well used to Preston’s field, came in slow and managed to taxi down the runway just as the next aircraft could be seen over the lake. Preston looked at its shape; he couldn’t recognize it and was rather shocked to see his first jet coming in to land on his airfield.

“It’s an old Super Tweet, a
Dragonfly
, I hope it has a STOL (Short Takeoff and Landings) conversion,” he said to Martie standing next to him. Sally, now an expert at landing on his field, brought the small twin-engine jet to a standstill at the very northern end of the runway as
Blue Moon
came in next with
Easy Girl
behind her. Preston could hear Jennifer giving the pilot suggestions on landing over the radio as Sally taxied off the runway area at the end and waited for the two aircraft to land.

As they did, Preston was shocked to see another foreign-looking aircraft fly low overhead, another DC-3, but it had military markings much like the
Dragonfly
at the end of his runway. “What the hell is happening?” he asked aloud.

“It sounds like Sally is in the little jet and Jennifer is helping another pilot in the Gunship,” suggested Martie.

Then what the hell is that line of C-130s coming in over the lake? I count seven of them,” stated Preston.

“Me, too!” replied Martie in wonderment. It was certainly a sight to see and rather pleasurable to observe so many aircraft flying at once.