Marcus thought he saw something interesting inside a partially open cabinet and stepped over to investigate. The cabinet contained several AK-47 assault rifles, a few semi-automatic pistols, ammunition, grenades, and smoke canisters. "What the hell? How in the world did they get these into your 'secure area', Felton?" Marcus asked, turning to glare at the security chief.
Felton's face burned red. "I don't know but I'm sure as hell gonna find out!" she replied angrily.
Marcus turned to Templeton, "Detail two troopers to secure this location...monitor the prisoners and the weapons cache." Templeton moved off to take care of it.
Pulling his comm unit out, Marcus called ASGuard HQ and gave an initial report. Then he contacted Major Dillon. "Lawman, this is Centurion. What's your status?"
Major Matthew "Lawman" Dillon's voice came from Marcus' comm unit. "Centurion, this is Lawman. We're about 10 minutes out from your position."
Marcus smiled. Dillon's and Hebert's units must have run balls out to make such good time. "Good to hear! Detail two of your Strykers to cover Gate Lima, I'm pulling my Delta, Echo, and Foxtrot units onto the airport now. We've come under attack. We've taken two prisoners and found a weapons cache but there are more aggressors on the field."
"Roger that, Centurion!" replied Dillon. "Dillon's Marshals are coming in locked, loaded, and ready to fight."
"Headhunter Chief copies! We're ready to rock, colonel!" came the voice of Captain Alex Hebert.
"Delta, Echo, and Foxtrot, this is Centurion!" Marcus called over his comm unit. The squad leader of each vehicle quickly acknowledged his transmission. "Come onto the airport and press on east past my location. Stay alert for aggressors with RPGs." Marcus paused as Felton stepped over.
Commander Felton stepped in front of Marcus. "Colonel, we've got an aircraft on the outermost runway that would be a prime target for the terrorists...it's our delegates to the Constitutional Convention. I've dispatched two of my units and two aircraft rescue and fire fighting apparatus to their location."
Marcus motioned for her to follow him. "Let's go! Temp! Back to the ACV! The delegates' plane has landed. We've got to get out to there and protect 'em." All of the ASGuard troops, with the exception of the two detailed to guard the hangar, raced back to their Strykers. They mounted up and the three vehicles moved out. Through a viewport, Marcus could see Strykers Delta, Echo, and Foxtrot moving past them. As these vehicles moved eastward across the tarmac, an aircraft parked near one of the terminals suddenly exploded, spraying burning fuel and aircraft parts across the ramp.
As the Roman's three armored vehicles moved across the ramp toward the outer runway, two explosions ripped through upper half of the airport's control tower. Two of its main structural supports must have been damaged as the upper part of the tower began to tilt toward the south. It tilted further and faster until it suddenly snapped free of the lower portion of the tower and crashed to the ground.
"Centurion, this is Foxtrot!"
"Go, Foxtrot!"
"We have three airport vehicles pulling away from the main terminal heading south toward the outer runways."
Marcus looked to Felton, who shook her head. "My personnel and the firefighters should already be at the aircraft."
"Foxtrot, Centurion. Do you have a visual on airport security and fire vehicles at our aircraft?"
"Affirmative, Centurion. They're in position. What I reported are three pickups and one of those vehicles with a scissor lift cargo box on it."
"A services truck! They're either going to try to storm the plane and take hostages...or this is a suicide mission to wipe 'em out," Marcus thought out loud. "Either way, we're going to stop 'em!" He keyed his comm mic and said, "Legion Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie...let's get out there...go, go, go! People...be prepared to deploy from vehicles and repel aggressors!"
On the outermost runway, four airport security personnel and four firefighters were listening over the radio to Felton relay Marcus' conclusions. Eight jaws and eight pairs of eyes tightened with resolve. The senior firefighter contacted the aircraft's senior pilot via a discrete radio frequency to apprise her of the situation and to suggest she prepare her crew and passengers for an emergency evacuation. The security personnel stepped from their vehicles with their automatic rifles and took positions behind their vehicles where they had a clear field of fire at the incoming vehicles.
The three pickups turned onto the runway from a taxiway and raced towards the aircraft. The cargo vehicle turned onto a dirt access road that paralleled the runway. It slowed downed and men began to jump from the cargo box and spread out along the access road. After the last one jumped from the vehicle, it turned back toward the runway and accelerated across the open field.
There were men riding in the bed of each pickup and two laying on the ramp above the vehicle's cab at the front of the cargo box. These men began firing their automatic weapons at the security personnel and firefighters. The security personnel returned fire on the approaching vehicles.
The dozen or so terrorists who were on foot on the access road began to move quickly across the field toward the aircraft and its defenders. With limited cover for protection, they zigged and zagged as they ran knowing that the security personnel would be busier with their vehicle mounted comrades. Two of the running terrorists fired at the firefighters inside their vehicles.
The senior firefighter radioed his friends in the other vehicle and shared an idea with them. The drivers in both vehicles put their vehicles into pump and roll mode and the two crew chiefs deployed the extendable turrets mounted atop the fire fighting vehicles. The two booms moved forward quickly and the turret nozzles on the end of both suddenly began to shoot high volumes of water and fire fighting foam in straight streams at high pressure. The two closest terrorists were lifted from their feet and thrown backwards several feet by the force of the streams!
As the drivers moved the ARFF vehicles forward, the crew chiefs used their joystick controls to swivel the roof turrets from side to side, sending more terrorists flying. The crew chiefs turned the turrets off and on intermittently to conserve their limited, onboard supplies of water and foam. Still, they were able to hold off the jihadist foot soldiers, giving the security officers time to try to fire upon the ones in vehicles.
Still, the aircraft's defenders were outnumbered, and outgunned, by the terrorists. One of the security officers caught a slug in her hip. She tried valiantly to remain standing and in the fire fight but passed out within a couple of minutes from blood loss and shock.
From the west, the service truck drew closer to the aircraft and its defenders. One of the men above the truck's cab set down his AK-47 and picked up a RPG and took aim at one of the ARFF vehicles. As he fired, the service truck swerved and instead of the RPG striking the center of the ARFF apparatus, it struck the engine compartment at the left rear of the massive vehicle.
The grenade's explosion sent shrapnel into the engine compartment and damaged the engine, shutting it down. Without its engine, the ARFF apparatus suddenly lost its mobility and pumping capability. The two firefighters, protected by distance and the water and foam remaining in their tanks, were unhurt. They bailed out of their vehicle and raced across the tarmac to get behind one of the security vehicles. One picked up the injured officer's M4A1 and, being former military, began to fire it at the approaching enemy. The other firefighter did his best to provide first aid to the injured security officer.
Bullets began to strike the aircraft's fuselage and wings. The senior pilot decided it was time to get her passengers and crew away from the aircraft. She instructed the flight attendants to pop the doors along the south side of the aircraft and deploy the emergency slides. Then over the intercom, she said, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the captain. I've ordered the flight attendants to begin an evacuation. Please remain calm, stay low, and move towards the exit nearest you. After reaching the ground, stay low and make for the dry wash just past the south edge of the runway. Get down in the wash and s
tay there. Evacuate...evacuate...evacuate! Let's move it, people! "
The doors opened and the slides deployed as they were supposed to. People began to slide down to the runway. Some stayed at the base of the slides to help those who followed to their feet and pointed the way to the dry wash.
The service truck was drawing closer to the nose of the aircraft when Stryker Alpha suddenly rammed the left rear corner of the truck's cargo box. The speed and inertia of the heavier armored vehicle caused the truck to turn sharply to the left then roll to the right. The truck flipped onto its side then rolled onto its top and skidded for about 40 feet. The two terrorists who had been riding above the cab were thrown from their perch, flew through the air, and slammed into the runway's concrete. They bounced, skidded, and rolled many times before they finally stopped moving... broken, battered, and dying.
Marcus ordered his driver to move their vehicle to the east side of the aircraft to take on the oncoming pickups. The driver had to maneuver carefully through the group of fleeing passengers then, once clear, accelerated forward. Gunners Peterson and Lindstrom began firing their 50 caliber machine guns at the pickups. SGT Heston fired round after round from her grenade launcher. One grenade pierced the windshield of a truck and detonated inside the cab. The terrorist driving was killed instantly while the shrapnel from the shattered cab ripped through the men standing behind the cab in the truck's bed. The blast wave threw them from the vehicle and onto the runway. They died slowly and painfully as they bled out on to the concrete.
The second pickup raced toward the aircraft just as the terrorist ground troops reached the edge of the runway. Their concentrated fire pinned the security guards and two firefighters behind the security vehicles. One of the terrorists reached the remaining ARFF apparatus, opened the driver's door, and tossed a grenade inside. The grenade detonated before the two firefighters inside the fire truck could get clear, killing them instantly.
As the ground based terrorists closed in on surviving security personnel and firefighters, Stryker Bravo pulled up. The top gunners continued firing their 50 cals as the rear hatch of the armored vehicle popped open. ASGuard troops leaped from their vehicle and spread out to the left and right of the Stryker, laying down heavy gunfire upon the terrorists. Then the ASGuard troops leap frogged forward closing the distance between them and the enemy. The firefight was short and deadly with the heavily armed and armored ASGuard decimating the terrorist ground troops.
Back in Stryker Alpha, the fire from Peterson's, Lindstrom's, and Heston's weapons converged on the final pickup load of terrorists. The vehicle's engine exploded and the hood flew back and over the cab decapitating the two jihadists standing behind the cab. Fire engulfed the vehicle killing the driver.
Stryker Charlie had swung over to the south edge of the runway to provide cover for the passengers in the dry wash. That vehicle's troops fanned out to check on the status of the passengers and flight crew. Several had minor injuries; cuts, scrapes, and sprains so ASGuard medics set to work providing medical care, while others provided security for the passengers, crew, and medics.
Legion Stryker Alpha pulled to the side of the runway near the dry wash. The rear hatch opened and Marcus, Templeton, and Felton stepped out and raced over to the group of passengers and flight crew. Marcus scanned the group for his mother and found her sitting on a large rock with a medic who was bandaging her right arm.
"She received a flesh wound from a slug but she'll be alright, colonel," the medic said as he finished applying a sling to support Marion's injured arm. "The docs back at the Armory will X-ray it, see if there's more to be done, then give her a tetanus shot." The medic smiled at Marion Roman and left to help other injured.
"Hey, Mom!" Marcus said to his mother as he knelt down beside her. "What happened?"
"Looks like I zigged when I shoulda zagged," Marion said smiling at her son, using an old expression her husband and son had both used on her on occasions when they had been wounded. "Just think what your father will say!"
Marcus gave his mother a smile then helped her to her feet. He placed his arms around her gently. "Well, you know Dad. First, he's gonna be upset, then he's gonna give you a bad time about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Then he's gonna hug you and pamper you until you get well...or get sick of him hovering over you...whichever comes first!" Marcus replied. "You feel up to walking over to my command vehicle or do you want Temp and me to carry you?"
Marion patted her son's cheek gently with her good hand. "Don't even try it, boy! Hiya, Temp! Howya doing?"
SGM Aaron Templeton had hung back as Marcus spoke with his mother. In fact, he had taken a position between them and everyone else to provide them protection and privacy. "Howdy, Mrs. Roman! I'm doing fine. Here...let me help you up this bank. Watch your step now, ma'am." Aaron Templeton was a close friend of the Roman family and always treated Marion politely and with the greatest respect.
Marcus and Templeton helped Marion up the embankment and over to Stryker Alpha. Then Tommi Thompson reached out to help her up into the vehicle and to one of the more comfortable seats. "Mom, I'll be back soon. Just sit tight. Tommi, let the general know she's okay," said Marcus.
With his mother in a safe location, Marcus and Templeton returned to the passengers and aircraft crew. As they walked, Marcus could feel his adrenaline wear off and his time sense return to normal as the "mad minute" came to an end.
Commander Felton was talking with the aircraft's pilots. Marcus stepped over and during in a lull in the conversation, introduced himself then turned to speak with Felton. "Commander," he said, "we're going to go ahead and transport the Convention delegates to ASGuard HQ. I'll have some of the other Strykers take you and your people wherever you like."
Felton replied, "Thank you, colonel, but our mobile command post and an airport bus on their way to this location. We can take the aircraft crew and the rest of the passengers with us...I need to interview them before they leave the airport. I just heard from my command center. It appears we have captured or killed all of our missing airport personnel and have control of the airport. Colonel, I want to thank you for really saving our butts here today." She held out her hand. Marcus took her hand and shook it.
"Glad to be of help, Commander!" he responded. "We've got other units inbound; they'll contact you for instructions as they approach the airport. Good luck!" With that, he stepped over to the bank of the dry wash and turned to face the people standing there.
"Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I'm Lieutenant Colonel Marcus Roman of the Arizona State Guard. Now that things have quieted down, we're going to transport the delegates to the Constitutional Convention to ASGuard HQ. Commander Felton of Goldwater International's Security force has told me that transportation for the remaining passengers and crew is being arranged and should be here soon. Delegates, if you will follow SGM Templeton, he will lead you to our Stryker armored vehicles for the ride to the Armory. Thank you!"
A small group filed over to Templeton and followed him up the wash's bank to the waiting vehicles. Marcus keyed his helmet microphone and had Strykers Delta, Echo, and Foxtrot wrap up their operations, bring any prisoners with them, and converge on Stryker Alpha. By the time Marcus reached his ACV, Templeton had arranged for seats for the delegates aboard Strykers Bravo and Charlie.
Marcus climbed into his vehicle and checked in with Major Thompson then his mother. He turned to his driver and said, "We need to swing back by the hangar and pick up our troops and prisoners, Jack!" The driver nodded and looked at the map on his heads-up display to double check for the best route to the hangar.
Taking a seat next to his mother, Marcus had his comm tech pull up a video link to ASGuard HQ so he could report to his father. He had his mother lean into the video pickup so that Titus would be able to see his wife.
"Hi, Honey," Titus said to his wife, smiling and winking at her, "let me get Marcus' report and then we'll talk. Okay?"
Marion smiled and nodded. She understood h
er husband and son all too well. They were soldiers and they had business to take care of.
Marcus smiled as well. "Sir, we appear to have stabilized the situation at the airport. We've rescued the delegates, flight crew, and other passengers. Goldwater International Security feels we have retaken the airport but I recommend any ASGuard units in route continue to the airport to assist. They should check in with Commander Felton for instructions on approach to the airport. We sustained three wounded and one KIA. We captured five prisoners and are bringing them back for interrogation."
General Roman responded with, "Excellent, colonel! We got lucky at the other terror attack sites. Thank God for the 2nd Amendment and the American people! There were quite a few open and concealed carry folks at each location when the attacks started. Between them, the onsite security personnel, and local police, the terrorists were contained until we got on the scene. Casualties on our side were very light; pretty heavy on the jihadists' side though."
Both Titus and Marcus were silent for a moment, thinking about the lives they couldn't save, both civilian and ASGuard. Finally, Marcus said, "We'll be on our way back to the Armory shortly, sir. In the meantime, there's someone here who'd like to speak with you."
Marion moved back into the video pickup, waved with her good hand, and said, "Hello, Darling!"
At first, Titus' face softened as he saw his wife's face then tightened as he saw the bandage and sling on her arm. "Are you okay, Sweetheart? What happened? I'll have the docs standing by..."
"Titus, I'm alright. It's just a flesh wound," Marion told her husband. "I guess I zigged when I should have zagged!"
The Arizona State Guard Trilogy Page 24
