Invasion USA 3 - The Battle for Survival (55 page)

“The first floor sometimes floods during hurricanes, so the admiral converted the upper three floors into two housing units,” the old man continued, not coming any closer than twenty feet from the Cutter. “He lives in one and the other furnished one is for sale. You can see the ‘For Sale’ sign on the other side. He wants a million for it. I’m the realtor and didn’t want to leave the building. Everybody else has left town and gone back to the mainland.”

“And where do you live?” asked Preston.

“A few streets away. I normally look better than this but my razor broke, the store is empty, my clothes are dirty and I haven’t shaved for three months. I’m also running out of food and I’m pretty hungry. Could you spare something?”

Mo immediately ordered the girls to get the man food and some clothing from a closet in one of the cabins.

“I have food for you,” offered Mo. “How about a whole dolphinfish?”

“My favorite!” exclaimed the man, noticing the smell of fish.

“Do you have power here on the island?” asked Preston.

“Only a small generator, but I ran out of fuel a month or two ago.”

“If we get you what you need, will you look after my ship until we return in a month?” asked Mo.

“Fresh clothes, a razor, some food and drink and I’ll look after the whole United States of America if you want,” replied the man eagerly.

Preston headed into the bridge and tuned the radio to his frequency to speak to the airfield. He couldn’t reach them, but he got Barbara in the Pilatus taking off to pick them up. He gave her instructions to bring
Lady Dandy
instead and gave her a list of what he wanted. It would take her an hour or more to get the men around to pack everything and she headed back to land.

He caught up with the group and the rather smelly man, named Tim O’Shaw, looking around the apartment for sale. It was big, had two levels and covered about 3,000 square feet. There were five bedrooms on the upper floor and a large open-plan kitchen and lounge area on the bottom floor. The view from the balconies on both floors was great; from the top floor they could see the waves crashing onto shore half a mile away to the east and the quiet port walls to the west. The bottom floor, a story up from the pier, was on ground level and the admiral’s apartment looked much the same from the empty street.

“One million dollars, you say?” Mo asked the Realtor.

“In cash, sir, since the banks are closed.”

Mo headed back to the ship and to the suitcase he had hidden in a safe in the stateroom. The safe had been open when he had first entered in Honduras and he had stuffed it with all the valuables he could and closed it, remembering the code.

He counted out one million dollars and left the amount in the suitcase. There was just under a hundred thousand left. He returned to give the shocked, white-faced man the suitcase with the million. Even Preston was impressed how calmly Mo worked the situation.

“Please count it and make sure that it is correct. May I have the keys? I feel that I now own this apartment and I want complete privacy. Also, here is one thousand dollars, your retainer for my apartment’s security.” The man, his mouth hanging open, looked Mo directly in the face. It was the easiest deal he had ever done.

“What use is the money?” he replied. “I can’t spend it here.”

“I agree, but at least I’ve paid you and I believe Preston here will pay you the other half in supplies, for securing my ship. Do you have any weapons?” The man said that he didn’t, and Mo went back to the ship and returned with an M-16 and several boxes of ammunition.

“Reminds me of my days in the Marines, years ago,” stated Tim O’Shaw. “This will come in handy. You have got yourself a deal, Mr. Wang!”

Barbara landed on the short runway two hours later and Tim O’Shaw happily took them there in his old Dodge diesel truck. He didn’t have anywhere to really drive it and had stashed several hundred gallons of diesel from dead vehicles around town. His only generator was a gas generator and Preston off-loaded a dozen five-gallon gas containers and a military-issue diesel generator, as well as canned food, cases of water and beer, and even a case of whiskey for the happy man. Also included were a new razor, clothes, a few towels, several cakes of soap, a dozen MRE packs, two bottles of propane gas, and a gas burner, enough to keep Tim O’Shaw happy for the month to come.

The old Dodge carried the remaining three heavy fish and other items back to the DC-3. The group took off, after closing down the ship and the new apartment. Scraggly Tim O’Shaw, now well-armed and looking happy, waved farewell to the group, proud to be of service to somebody.

Flight to China – April

The occupants of Preston’s airfield were excited to see the fresh game fish so a fish BBQ was organized for that evening. Many weren’t around, including the President and General Patterson who were in California touring new developments in Silicon Valley and the Cube.

Mike Mallory had returned to the farm two days earlier to report on the growing problem of increased disease among the surviving populations in the temporary accommodation camps. The most noticeable danger was diarrhea due to dirty water.

Physical injuries were on the decline, but very little could be done for the injured; they either died or got better. Without electricity, medical personnel could not do even the most basic things such as monitor minor operations or sterilize operating rooms properly. Thousands of doctors, military and civilian, had to renew their knowledge of simple medical procedures without complex sterile systems to back them up. Medical supplies were scarce because the thousands of hospitals and pharmacies around the country had been ransacked, with many destroyed. Apart from several factories and storage facilities commandeered by soldiers, much of the available medicines were stored in military installations. These problems had often been discussed in the dozens of meetings Preston and his buddies didn’t attend. They were not doctors.

Following the briefing, the President and Chief of Staff contacted all available military medical personnel to go on standby across the country. Then the three men—the President, General Patterson and Mike Mallory— headed out with several of the top military medical corps to find out how many people in Silicon Valley were working on the future of medicine. This area was soon to have active electricity and Mike’s idea was to get medical facilities in the areas up and running. From there they could at least send mobile electricity units out to the camps with generators and establish more availability for the sick to be treated.

The time for Preston’s trip to China was growing near. He left the farm on the last day of April for Hill Air Force Base in Salt Lake City, where the mission to China would begin the next day.

The Super Tweets were away flying much of the time, and Martie and the rest of the girls weren’t around for his departure. Marie, Beatrice, and the teenagers offered to look after Little Beth, Clint and the animals for the month Preston and Mo Wang were expected to be away. There were hugs and kisses from all as Preston and Mo Wang boarded the C-130 bound for Hill. Preston was only a passenger on this leg. Carlos was still in California and the Gunships were being serviced and inspected at Edwards for their flight across the world.

By midnight they had met up with the Marines at Hill who had flown in from Camp Lejeune and Quantico. The fleet of C-130s was certainly growing in numbers. Preston remembered that the last time he flew into Hill there was only one C-130 on the aprons. Now there were nearly thirty, all in lines and ready for their next leg into Edwards. There they would meet with another 1,000 Marines arriving in twelve more C-130s from Camp Pendleton, and also the Gunship,
Blue Moon
.

At Edwards, the next batch of 130s waited for them. Every operational 130 was on the tarmac at Edwards. It was certainly a sight to see. From Edwards they would fly to Elmendorf in Alaska with six more 130s loaned from the Navy and Coast Guard. The aircraft from the two branches of service were distinguished by their colors. The Navy’s 130s were gray and the Coast Guard’s white with a red stripe. Valuable supplies were being transported by these six aircraft into Alaska, after which they would return to resume duties across the U.S.

Carlos and Lee were already there and greeted Preston as he exited his aircraft,
Easy Girl.
He was the copilot. He and his flight commander had picked her up, serviced and ready to fly at Hill.

“Which one are you copilot of?” Preston asked Carlos.

“I’ve got
Blue Moon
,” he replied, looking towards the five other Gunships now in a line in front of them. “Apart from
Blue Moon
and
Easy Girl
, we have
Plain Jane
,
Surprise Package
,
Pave Pronto
and
Pave Spectre
over there,” he stated, looking over to the line of the four “new, old” AC-130s. “Great names, don’t you think?” Preston nodded.

For the first time since arriving in the country, Mo Wang was seeing that Zedong Electronics had greatly under-estimated the tenacity of the armed forces of the United States of America.

“Were all these flying when the Supreme Commander attacked in New York?” he asked, surveying the 54 C-130s of all types and colors now silent on the tarmac.

“No,” replied Carlos, telling Mo Wang for the first time that the aircraft he had just flown in from Salt Lake City was the second aircraft to bomb the Zedong Electronics buildings in China. It was a place Mo Wang knew well; an office in the second building with his name on the door was now rubble.

Mo was shocked and his face went white. He had seen the fire power of the 105mm howitzer and the 3 large cannons in the fuselage and he had wondered if this aircraft had reached China. If it had it would have done much damage.

“Many of these have just come out of the refurbishment hangars,” continued Carlos. “It’s taken the Air Force, Navy and Coast Guard four months to get all these C-130s operational. Mo, now that you are part of the program, I’m authorized to share more information with you than before. Preston, you’re familiar with
Blue Moon
and
Easy Girl
because we just completed fifty hours in them. The other four were ripped apart, have reconditioned older turboprop engines, and have the same armament configuration as
Blue Moon
. We have five Howitzers and five of the 40mm Bofors between us, enough to fight a much bigger war.”

“You are right there!” stated Preston, excited.

The Marines, a large group of well-trained men, could be seen heading into a hangar to be given new and specialized equipment made for the mission. Twenty minutes later the dozens of pilots were in the briefing room, General Patterson and Majors Wong and Chong in charge of the briefing.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” started the general. Preston had noticed several women in the crowd of pilots, Sally’s and Jennifer’s faces not among them. “Our first stop is Fairchild Air Force Base in Washington State for the C-130s to refuel, distance 900 miles. The seven HC-130 Tankers are taking fuel into Elmendorf Air Force Base in Alaska to top off their tanks and will be returning the 1,500 miles to Fairchild to refuel again twice, before we head down to Japan. They will have enough fuel aboard to get 21 of our C-130s full of troops to Misawa, Japan, distance 3,100 miles. All our 130s are equipped for air refueling. The movement of all our aircraft into Misawa will take two flights, the tankers will return to Elmendorf within 24 hours for the second flight. It is going to take 48 hours to get the 36 C-130s and six AC -130s to Japan. Once we are in Japan we will have a second briefing for our move into China. We begin takeoffs in 60 minutes, once all refueling here has been completed.”

Preston was one of the last to take off due to the refueling queue. Mo had been transferred to the general’s refurbished AC-130,
Plain Jane
. It took an hour for all the aircraft to take off and another hour for them to get into a large formation of aircraft flying up the West Coast at 15,000 feet.

Fairchild was cold, much colder just before midnight, when they arrived. Again, refueling would take place and they managed six hours of sleep before waking to a rain-swept morning with strong winds coming in from the west. With only one runway, the slower C-130s took off first into the wind and, just after lunch Preston saw the Alaska coastline 18,000 feet below them. The large flight of aircraft was already in single file, a mile between each for final approach into the single north/south runway at Elmendorf Air Force Base.

There was little wind, the temperature 29 degrees, and the landscape white with snow. There were only 36 spots for the personnel aircraft to be placed at the main terminal so the Gunships headed east across the field to a more narrow secondary apron normally used by fighter jets. The base still had decent fuel reserves, but every extra gallon flown in would assist the dispensing of the fuel.

The tankers were emptied of their fuel, and with only enough to return to Fairchild, they departed with fresh crews for Washington.

Preston and Carlos had enjoyed the flying. It was Preston’s first visit to Alaska and Carlos was beginning to see how General Allen had flown such a distance with nothing more than a wing and a prayer, and he—Carlos—guiding him in safely. This flight had directional beacons everywhere and they could even pick up the Misawa beacons from Japan, their next leg in 48 hours’ time.

It was still winter in Alaska so the pilots stayed indoors enjoying heaps of salmon steaks. One of the radio operators met Preston and Carlos over dinner the second night and told them about his meeting with Allen Key when he arrived in Elmendorf in mid-winter, coming like a ghost out of nowhere.

They had enjoyed the hamburgers the general brought with him. They had lasted a full week. The radioman was happy that one of the Navy C-130s had brought in another load of frozen burger patties and burger buns from Camp Pendleton’s storage warehouse. Preston hadn’t seen the six other C-130s off-load and return; they left pretty quickly, needing to continue their mission of feeding the U.S. population while all these transporters were on their mission.