by T I WADE
The admiral’s ship radioed Marie to instruct her to slow and prepare for Señor Wang and others to join them. With that, the two ships slowed down in the becalmed sea to get closer to each other.
Fifteen minutes later there was no need for ropes or any assistance to get across as the sea was calm. Two seamen jumped across the two feet of water between the stationary ships and down four feet to the deck of the Cutter.
Several men helped Mo across by putting him in a large basket and literally passing it across. The medic didn’t want the wound opened. The admiral and Captain Ortez jumped over. Four more soldiers joined them and stood guard at either side of the bridge.
Mo was helped out of the basket and walked by himself to the bridge. He noticed that the ladies had replaced the tarpaulin over the guns and had cleaned the deck. He couldn’t see any blood stains.
He asked the ladies to remove the tarp. Beatrice knew how to set the two guns to return to their compartments, and he would return the weapons to their hiding places once ready. They weren’t needed with the extra fire power around them.
Mo invited the admiral and the captain into the lounge as Marie increased the revs and they returned to fifteen knots.
“Please sit down, Admiral. Would you like a beer or coke?” Mo asked. The admiral asked for a coke and his eyes grew large when he saw that it was a bottle from his homeland. The admiral looked at him. “Admiral, I have a good story to tell you about whom this ship belongs to, and I think you will be surprised.” The admiral nodded and Mo began his story, starting with his jumping ship in Panama and arriving in Roatán. He had just got to the part where he was being taken to the Villa when Beatrice entered and told him that the weapons were ready. He excused himself and returned the guns to the interior of the ship.
“Captain, the guns have disappeared,” stated the guards in Spanish. Mo smiled, understanding what they were shouting about, and the captain went to check. He came back and reported to the admiral.
“This ship gets more and more interesting, Señor Wang. Are you sure you are not Chinese Secret Service or something? This ship is something I would see in a James Bond movie,” added the admiral, not moving from his seat.
Mo continued to relate his story, about the villa, the shooting on the island and their only way to escape, with the villa owner’s ship.
“And do you know the name of the villa owner you commandeered the ship from?” smiled the admiral about to get the smile taken off his face.
“A Colombian senator, Admiral, hence the Colombian Coca-Cola you are drinking,” he added. The smile hung on the Admiral’s face like it wasn’t supposed to be there anymore.
“And his name?” asked the admiral softly.
Chapter 16
April 1st Meeting
Early on April 1st, 2013, Preston’s airfield came alive. Sally and Martie had flown in together the night before, Sally in the Pilatus from California, and Martie finally returned to the farm flying her Mustang.
Both Preston and Carlos were glad to see the girls. So were Little Beth, Clint, the dogs, and even Smokey the cat who appeared out of nowhere to rub against their legs once the aircraft had been closed down.
Martie and Sally couldn’t believe how good the airfield looked with all the new modifications. They both had to land on the new runway just to see how long and smooth it was. To Martie, it was long; she didn’t even have to use her brakes to land. She reached the northern end, and then taxied down the original runway to her usual parking place, to be towed backwards into the hangar with the lawn tractor, next to Preston’s P-51.
The meeting at Andrews was going to be a crucial assembly. Although spring was in the air, crops were being planted and the snows were receding north, it was also three months since the whole country had shut down. The MRE rations were running out and life was to become very interesting for the rest of the year.
Preston and Carlos, with the two ever-present dogs bounding around them, showed the two girls the newly modified airfield. The two runways and the adjoining taxiway on the southern end looked pristine: pitch black, with new white and yellow painted lines perfectly unused, bright and clean of tire marks. The now-complete hangars and their accommodations were still empty of aircraft except for Carlos’ Colombian DC-3 which had found a new home, even though he preferred his old one in Preston’s original hangar.
The President’s house was furnished, but the First Family would not arrive until April 2nd for the second meeting, and would be staying for a week. Preston reminded himself that he needed to stock the refrigerator.
The Officers’ Mess was to be opened on the same day with a small ceremony, and the accommodations looked nice and comfortable. The larger three-story building looked grand compared to the smaller ones. The first floor was an open-plan communal living area, with the same gas equipment as in the kitchens of the other two buildings and the hangars. The lounge had nice couches, not fancy, but military-officer issue, and could seat more than thirty with ease. There was a communal eating area, not unlike a food court, and the two floors of bedrooms were much the same as Preston had in his hangar.
“Your farm isn’t a farm anymore, Preston,” stated Sally as they returned to see the Air Force personnel refueling the Pilatus for the short flight up to Andrews. In order to conserve fuel they would all go in the one aircraft. Everybody else was going to meet them at the air base.
“What are we going to do with all this when it’s not needed anymore?” asked Martie.
“I suppose turn it into a Fly-In Motel,” replied Preston. “We could offer romantic getaways and throw in bed and breakfast for newly married pilots,” he said, winking at Carlos.
“Then I suggest you should be the first one to use it, friend Preston,” replied Carlos. “Maybe we will all take your happy marriage to heart and sort out our own marriages. Do you know how many people are waiting for you two to tie the knot?”
“Yes, and then I can get my new family name,” added Little Beth, overhearing the conversation from behind Clint’s wheelchair on the front porch of the farmhouse as the four adults walked up.
“I suppose we should have added a church requirement to the new buildings. Get me a church on site, a quaint, little one, and I will marry Martie!” laughed Preston.
“Sí, Señor Strong, I will bring that to the President‘s notice later today,” retorted Carlos. And, with Martie looking at him quizzically, Preston knew that the inevitable would soon take place.
“Maybe you should propose to me, you dumb ass, before you order the church to be built,” rebuked Martie, giving him a poke in the ribs with her elbow.
“If you say no, dearest Martie, then I can watch Mr. Carlos Smarty-Pants Rodriquez go to the altar before me,” returned Preston, getting hit from all sides, even from Little Beth.
Joe and David drove up, said their good mornings and were handed a steaming cup of coffee each as they all congregated in Preston’s hangar, chatting.
The full Pilatus turboprop flew out with Preston flying the aircraft for the first time in the left seat and Sally instructing him from the right seat. If this was to be the family minivan from now on, then somebody had to learn to fly it. Flying a turboprop was far more complicated than any normal carburetor-aspirated piston aircraft Preston was used to.
Being a more advanced jet engine, Preston would need at least thirty hours of training to learn to fly the most sophisticated aircraft he had ever piloted.
Preston and Martie loved their Mustangs and were not as keen to upgrade engines as Carlos and Sally had been in their flying careers.
The flight took an hour before they entered the landing queue for Andrews. Martie’s father arrived in his Beechcraft with the entire Smart family aboard after a refueling stop in Texas. Maggie was his copilot, and they got into final approach a minute before the Pilatus.
Will was getting used to this flying stuff and was even prepared to get into a small plane, as long as his wife wasn’t in command. Being a typical husband, he
was still a little reluctant to completely “hand the driving” over to her.
Buck and Barbara, in Lady Dandy, were flying in from Salt Lake City and Denver with Lee Wang and family aboard. Lee, Lin and Ling had hitched a ride from California to Denver in a C-130 as there was not enough room in the Beechcraft for everybody currently in residence at Michael’s farm. The DC-3 got into line behind the Pilatus. Lee and his wife had been told about the arrival of his uncle Mo Wang, and were actually looking forward to seeing him again. It had been nearly two decades since they had last met.
This time there were only twenty 747s on the apron, troops spilling out of them as the Pilatus came in. There were also the six promised Super Tweets all in a line further away and, knowing who they were for, Preston smiled. Only he, Carlos and Sally saw them as they came in. The Pilatus was shown a parking space next to the Beechcraft away from the disembarking men and the Super Tweets.
Martie hurried out first to hug her father and slowly the aircraft emptied. The day was warmer than a month earlier and the morning temperature was in the low sixties.
Carlos waited for Sally before exiting to join the rest. Admiral Rogers came up to meet the visitors and Carlos was thrilled to see his admiral uncle dressed in full Colombian Naval Dress Uniform next to him.
Carlos made the introductions of all his friends to his visiting uncle, and then Admiral Rogers suggested that they go in and be introduced to Lee’s uncle, who had a bevy of beautiful girls around him.
Within the group, there were mixed emotions about meeting an ex-enemy, but Admiral Rogers cleared the air by stating that Mr. Mo Wang was an interesting person and judgment should be held until after everybody had met him and heard his story.
The President and First Family were not due in for an hour. Buck needed to pick them up in Washington, and went out to the tarmac to prepare “Buck One” for the short flight.
While Buck and Barbara headed off to begin their ground checks, Mike Mallory could be seen heading in to land in his Cessna 210. He had John and Pam Wallace aboard.
Carlos was a little nervous. He felt no benevolence for Mo Wang, but he was, after all, Lee’s uncle and should be given a chance to speak.
They entered the Officers’ Mess to see what looked like a beauty competition; a group of girls all Martie’s height, each tall, thin, tanned and gorgeous. There was one small Chinese lady who, on seeing Lee, screamed and ran into his arms.
“It’s my sister, she’s my sister,” Lee shouted to Carlos as the lady ran into him, nearly knocking the short man down. Lee’s wife was just as happy to see Lu and got the next big hug. Then Lee’s grown-up daughter was introduced to Lu’s two children and a rush of rapid Chinese could be heard from the excited group.
Carlos saw an older and shorter Chinese gentleman looking at them, and one of the tall beautiful ladies had her arm in his. She was at least a foot taller than he, and at least a couple of decades younger, but to her it certainly didn’t seem to matter.
“Come, Carlos, let me introduce you to a man who stole Senator Calderón’s fancy ship,” stated his uncle and again Carlos felt confused by this man. This guy Mo Wang was certainly getting around.
The room quieted down as his uncle led Carlos up to Mo, who just stood there knowing exactly who he was and smiling at him.
“Señor Wang, this is my nephew, Carlos Rodriquez. I’ve heard that you two know each other pretty well,” Admiral Rodriquez stated. Both men shook hands silently, studying each other for several seconds. There was a hush in the room as everybody waited to see what would happen.
“Carlos, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” started Mo first. “Everybody, may I introduce you to my lady friends,” he stated, looking at the crowd. “This is Marie and her two daughters, Cheri and Annabel from France and New York. Here is Beatrice and her daughter Virginie from Paris and over there is my niece Lu and her two children from Honduras. Lu, as you’ve heard, is Lee’s sister.”
Smiling, Mo added, “Before Carlos takes me outside and shoots me, I would like to say that it’s a pleasure to finally be in the United States. This entrance is far better than the entrance the American people would have given me aboard the Aircraft Carrier in January. Now, Carlos, you may take me outside if you wish.”
Everybody laughed and Carlos scratched his head as he always did when he was at a loss at what to do. Martie and Sally came up and held out their hands to Mo.
“You helped save our country. I think you should at least be thanked for that,” stated Martie, and then introduced herself to the French girls.
“And thanks to you, we had the entire battle won before we even started,” added Sally dressed in her Air Force flight overalls. “Carlos, please just accept that this man probably saved many lives and put his own life in danger in the process. That’s good enough in my book.” She punched Carlos on the shoulder and turned to the French ladies to introduce herself.
“Good to finally meet you, Mr. Wang,” stated Preston coming up to shake the man’s hand. “I’m sure Lee is happy to see you and will come around to say hello. He always had a lot of respect for you and he told me that your job at Zedong Electronics was about the same as his, but yours was more senior.” Looking at Carlos he said, “Carlos, remember, we accepted Lee when you found out that he was a spy.” Turning back to Mo, Preston continued, “Mr. Wang, just to let you know, Lee is still pretty sore at you for nearly exterminating him and his family, but I’m sure the two of you can get over that in your own way.”
Carlos was still trying to figure out what to say and Mo did it for him. “As I promised over the satellite phone, Carlos, I have a lot to tell you. We need to sit down today and, with your General Patterson, work out a plan to help this country get back on its feet.” Carlos nodded and was interrupted by General Patterson arriving with Mike Mallory, John and Pam, who were introduced to Admiral Rodriquez and Mo Wang’s party.
Beatrice was still hanging onto Mo’s arm. “Mr. Rodriquez, please be a little easy on Mo, he is injured and recuperating from a bullet wound taken by American pirates who were trying to capture us. I’m sure that whatever he has done to you and America has been repaid by being shot by one of your own countrymen, no?”
“Beatrice, it was only a small wound and not that important,” responded Mo.
“I’m sure you have an interesting story to tell us, Mo Wang,” stated Carlos finally. “I’m looking forward to hearing it tonight at the farm where we personally cooked your uninvited Chinese hit squads.”
“Then we can take him out back and shoot him,” added General Patterson, winking at Preston.
Mo Wang smiled, nodded and bowed to the men in front of him. He wasn’t expecting much more.
The President arrived with his family thirty minutes later and the new visitors were moved to other premises for security reasons. At this meeting, no non-Americans or younger members of the group were invited, which would give Lee and his family a few hours to talk to their newly arrived family.
The growing group of U.S. military brass and civilians moved towards the meeting room.
“Good morning, all,” stated General Patterson as the seats filled. “Please stand for the National Anthem.” Listening to the anthem being played was an indication that life was starting to get back to normal in minute ways.
“Most of what I have to say today is to bring everybody up to speed on what is happening across the United States, and much of it is not good news,” continued the general. “So, I will go through the list of reports in the same order we did last month. First, troop movements: We have completed 20 days of troop and 10 days of food importation since March 1st. As of this morning, we have 790,000 troops back stateside and still have 400,000 to go. Two more months, ladies and gentlemen, and we will have all our guys home. Beginning today, and for the next eight days, the aircraft will be flying in the last of our food supplies from overseas. In Europe we have eight more flights of MRE rations to bring in and the two remaining days will be to bring in oth
er important equipment we don’t want to leave over there. Then the aircraft will return to troop flights until we are done, or until something else crops up. Admiral Rogers will tell you about the container ships we sent out and the third container ship which is leaving New York later today. Once we complete flying the rest of our men back, several flights will be needed to bring in the last important supplies, like generators, mobile radios and anything that is still operational. A thousand Marines and Air Force personnel will be in control of operations at Ramstein and other bases around Europe until we have moved out everything we need. The good news is that all our men are now safe in Europe and are out of the old battle areas. Unfortunately we lost just short of 3,400 soldiers to fighting in the Middle East since January 1st.”
“What is the situation in Europe and the areas we are pulling men out of?” asked Carlos.
“Pretty bad I’m afraid,” replied the general. “They are doing much of what we are doing here, burying their dead. I believe Europe has more civilian food in supply compared to us, where we had more military rations, but I’ve been told from many returning soldiers that there are dead everywhere cold weather was a factor. There seems to be far less violence in Europe than here due to the population not being allowed to have guns in every household, but the weather has been below freezing in much of Europe for the last two weeks and they are in a much worse condition than we are. In the Middle East faction fighting was everywhere a few weeks ago, the dead mounting in piles, but I’ve heard that it is now diminishing. I assume they will run out of gun and rocket ammunition sometime, and will have to resort to clubs and bows and arrows to fight each other.” Many smiled at the point.
“Are we doing anything to help other countries?” asked Mike Mallory.
“No, we are not,” replied General Patterson. “As we decided at our last meeting, we are getting out of other countries, and we will spend 100 percent of our energy and resources to get this country back on its feet. End of story.” There was silence. “Captain Mallory, will you come up and give us your latest numbers on food stocks and your farmers’ report?” They changed places.
