Thunder in the East

by Maloney, Mack;

  Within seconds, he had the F-16XL down to tree-top level and racing dead center above Pennsylvania. He quickly flipped a series of switches, then took a deep breath and fired his first Maverick weapon. He felt the corresponding jolt as the missile, guided by a special-dual sighting laser device in the jet’s nose, ran its course unerringly to the lead tank. It impacted on the M-60’s turret with a tremendous booming explosion. The tank’s gun came twisting off as the tracked vehicle was lifted some six feet in the air. When the wreckage came down, it formed an immediate roadblock in the already-litter-strewn street.

  “Just as advertised …” Hunter mused as he looped the jet over and lined up on the now stalled column. As the terrified Circle soldiers dove for cover, Hunter opened up with his Vulcan Six-Pack, riddling two APCs and another tank with the heavy caliber, armor piercing shells. Another loop and another strafing run racked up two more tanks and an armored truck. He put the jet into another 360 and came back for a third time, blasting an additional APC and two troop trucks. By his fourth pass, the surviving enemy commanders had had enough, quickly jamming their vehicles into reverse and beating a hasty retreat.

  Hunter yanked back on the control stick and punched into his mike button.

  “I think we’ve rained sufficiently on that parade,” he told Dozer.

  Just then he got a call from the flight commander of the last three paratroop-laden C-141s heading toward the battle area.

  “We’re getting a threat warning near our drop zone,” the pilot told Hunter. “Could you do us the favor?”

  Hunter acknowledged the call and immediately did a shallow loop which leveled him off just above the Elipse. He saw a few squads of Circle soldiers attempting to set up a SAM unit just off Constitution Avenue, their intended targets being the approaching C-141s that had just taken off and were flying very low. Two Mavericks later, the SAM site was reduced to a heap of smoldering metal and all its operators blasted into cinders.

  Now, as he streaked low over the Washington Monument, he recognized a new threat—a large contingent of Circle troops was withdrawing in toward the tower of books. He saw several gasoline trucks also moving in that direction.

  He immediately punched in his radio microphone button. “Ground commander, this is F-16, come in …” he called to Dozer, somewhere on the ground.

  “I read you, Hawk,” Dozer called back.

  Hunter adjusted his radio tuner slightly. “What’s your position now, Bull?”

  There was a nasty burst of static, then Dozer came back on the line. “We’re moving out of the park,” the Marine captain reported, his transmission punctuated by the sound of gunfire in the background. “We’ve linked up with Shane and Yaz and the boys. They’ve even got a couple of tanks waiting for us. We’ve covered them with white shirts and things so you’ll know who the good guys are …”

  Hunter came in low right over the park. “I see your vehicles,” he reported. “But it looks pretty wild down there. What’s your situation?”

  Another burst of static jumped from the radio. “Things are getting very crazy here,” Dozer shouted back. “We’re trying to get the civvies organized, but a lot of them are taking off at anything that faintly resembles a Circle soldier.”

  “Well, we’ve got a problem over at the Monument,” Hunter told him. “It looks like we might have a bunch of firebugs heading for the book tower …”

  “I’m not surprised to hear that,” Dozer yelled back, his voice almost drowned out by the sounds of the ground combat. “Some Circle bastards already lit the piles of stuff closest to us. We’ve stopped some of the fires, but not all of them. That black smoke you see down here is about ten thousand tennis rackets going up!”

  Hunter shrugged off that report. He hated tennis.

  “Do you think they’re going to torch the books now?” Dozer asked him.

  Hunter came in low over the book tower, temporarily scattering the Circle troops in the area. “I would say that’s affirmative,” he told Dozer. “They’re moving up their gasoline trucks …”

  “Well, we’d better break out of here and get the hell over there,” Dozer called back. “Can you run some interference?”

  “Follow me …” Hunter replied.

  By this time, the fighting had spread all throughout the parks near the long reflecting pool up to the Lincoln Memorial. The civilian bands, some of them taking on the recently arrived paratroopers as their leaders, were locked in vicious hand-to-hand combat with the startled, disorganized Circle defenders. Some of the civilians had liberated the pile of hockey sticks that were ready to be burned and were swinging them with even more wild abandon than their bat-wielding compadres. Some golf clubs too were being used as weapons—the putters and short irons proved most effective—but a Circle Army squad had managed to torch the largest piles of clubs and they were now raging away.

  Some of the civilians had taken to putting on jerseys from the pile of sports uniforms. Others were utilizing the headgear found in the unburned piles of football and baseball helmets. Still many of the civilians were being ruthlessly gunned down by the Circle soldiers. But when they caught a disproportionate number of the enemy, the civilians were in turn killing their former captors, picking up their weapons and moving on.

  Hunter flew low over one such civilian group—some 200 strong—who had commandeered several Circle trucks and were now moving on several enemy machine gun nests located in the old Executive Office Building right next to the White House. This group was paving the way for Dozer’s larger force which was trying to battle its way toward the book tower. Hunter sighted the target, switched one of his Mavericks to “hot” and let the missile fly. The resulting explosion took out the enemy gun—along with half the front of the old building.

  “Goddamn, those Mavs are powerful,” Hunter said, shaking his head in amazement.

  Just then, he received an urgent call from Jones back at Bolling.

  “Hawk, we’ve just intercepted a message from the Circle high command,” the general told him.

  “Let’s have it,” Hunter replied.

  “They’re up to their old tricks, Hawk,” Jones told him. “Tactical Defense, again. They’ve ordered the bulk of their forces to withdraw up toward Silver Springs in Maryland. They’re heading toward Baltimore, I would guess …”

  “That’s good news,” Hunter said. “I think …”

  “It is in some ways,” Jones said. “The advance contingent of our ground troops are a few hours away now. If The Circle keeps pulling back, they’ll run smack dab into them somewhere just south of Baltimore.”

  “Plus this way, we can blast them from the air without worrying about destroying all of DC …” Hunter told him.

  “Right, but there is a problem,” Jones said. “They are leaving behind four battalions of specialists, plus a whole gang of Spetsnaz. As we read it, these soldiers are to withdraw to the designated zones and carry out their so-called ‘termination orders’…”

  “Damn!” Hunter cursed. He didn’t have to be a mind-reader to figure out what that meant. “They’re going to blow up everything anyway.”

  “I’m afraid so,” Jones replied. “These guys are probably the Circle’s suicide squads. Or if they weren’t before, they are now. They’ll put up a hell of a fight and then torch everything they can.”

  “We’ve got to stop them!” Hunter shouted in exasperation. “Especially the ones that are planning to torch the books …”

  “Wait, there’s more,” Jones said. “We’ve had to lift out all the radar teams, so the Circle is back in control of the radar net. They’ve also figured out that we’re over here at Bolling, of course. We’ve been shelling the runways over at National, but they’re ready to launch some aircraft. You might have company up there very soon …”

  “That’s all we need,” Hunter said. “And I can’t leave this situation here to get over there and do some damage.”

  “Well, I’ve ordered a flight of A-tens accompanying our columns to diver
t here, toot sweet,” Jones told him. “They’ll go right in after the runways at National. But they won’t be here for another ten minutes or so …”

  “OK,” Hunter radioed back. “It won’t be the first time we’ve juggled more than three balls in the air at once …”

  He did a wide loop over the city. Already he could see the Circle’s new orders being put into action. A large contingent of vehicles were leaving the city, heading northeast. Hunter resisted a temptation to fire at least some parting shots at them. He knew he’d need all the ammo he had for battling the enemy troops left behind.

  It was these enemy suicide troops that were simultaneously withdrawing in strength to positions around or near the piles of American objects that were slated to be destroyed. Besides the contingent of troops surrounding the Washington Monument and the tower of books, there were large pockets of enemy soldiers holed up at the Capitol Building and around the Lincoln Memorial where the large pile of American flags were to be burned.

  Hunter quickly called Dozer and informed him of the Circle’s tactic.

  The Marine captain had organized a couple hundred paratroopers with the original band of 200 civvies. This force was now moving down a side street, past the Pan-Am building.

  “We’ll be within sight of the Monument in a few minutes,” Dozer told Hunter. “I’ll also radio the other units and let them know where the hot spots are …”

  Within a minute another large force made up of paratroopers and armed civilians was moving toward the Lincoln Memorial. Dozer also dispatched a smaller group to fight its way toward the Capitol Building.

  “We’re right at the corner of 17th and Constitution,” Dozer called up to Hunter. “I can see them putting up barricades at the top of the Monument’s hill …”

  “What’s your plan?” the pilot asked him, knowing there weren’t many options.

  “Frontal attack,” Dozer replied quickly. “There’s no other way …”

  The words still stung Hunter’s ears. He knew that such an attack would be costly in both human lives and the very object they were fighting to protect. He knew the Circle troops would start preparing to set fire to the books as soon as Dozer’s men began their assault.

  He needed a counterbalance. They probably wouldn’t be able to save all the books. But if they were lucky, they could prevent many of them from being destroyed.

  Suddenly an idea came to him.

  He quickly radioed Dozer. “How long to jump off?” he asked.

  “I’d say ten minutes,” the officer replied. “We’re just getting the civilians sorted out and making sure everyone has some kind of a weapon …”

  “OK,” Hunter called back. “I’ll be back to you in seven minutes.”

  He then put the F-16 down to treetop level and started scouring the city. He wasn’t looking for SAMs or even the gold APC, although that was still high on his list.

  He was looking for a fire station …

  CHAPTER 73

  YAZ LOADED THE CAPTURED M-16—his third gun of the day—with the last of his ammunition, then took his place in line.

  He was right on the curbstone at 17th and Constitution, part of a second line of troops being set up for the assault on Monument Hill. On the top of the bluff he could see Circle soldiers scurrying around, overturning vehicles and other objects to make barricades. He could also see they were giving the huge tower of books another wash of gasoline in preparation for its imminent torching.

  In front of Yaz was the first line of the assault force. It was made up almost entirely of PAAC paratroopers and the surviving members of Shane’s Rangers. His own second line was led by several paratrooper squad leaders and made up of civilians who Dozer had quickly determined had had prior military service—reservists, militia men and so on. Behind him were two more lines. These were made up of anyone with balls enough to join the attack.

  Dozer was now standing in the middle of the street, preparing to address his troops. The noise of the fighting had died down around them for the moment as both sides prepared for the second round. Occasionally some dazed citizens would wander by—they being freed by the civilian uprising, but each time Dozer would have a couple troops escort them to the rear.

  They had three tanks at their disposal, plus two APCs. The tanks would lead the first wave, the APCs the second. Most of the men were armed with M-16s and AK-47s taken from the dead Circle troops, although there were a few grenade launchers being carried by the paratroopers in the first line.

  “All right men, listen up!” Dozer’s voice boomed. “We jump off in two minutes. Stay close in ranks, especially you men behind the first line. Use your ammunition wisely—don’t go shooting it all off while you’re climbing up the hill. Believe me, you’ll need it once you get up there.

  “Try to stay low to the ground, but don’t bunch up behind the tanks or the APCs. The Circle have antitank missiles and if they hit one of our vehicles, then I don’t want a bunch of foot soldiers going up with it.

  “Good luck and see you at the top!”

  Yaz could hear the sounds of heavy guns going off in the distance but he didn’t know exactly where. He did know that two other assault teams were preparing to attack the enemy suicide squads at the Lincoln Memorial and at the Capitol Building. He wondered if they would fare any better or worse than this impending attack.

  “One minute!” Dozer yelled, himself checking the ammo clip in his Uzi.

  The four lines stiffened up—Yaz estimated there were close to 400 men in all. He knew there were at least twice that many on top of the hill.

  “OK, Ready!” Dozer shouted. “First line, let’s go …”

  Suddenly the three M-60 tanks started moving, with the first line of the 50 paratroopers and Rangers right behind it.

  They had moved about 20 feet ahead when the man in charge of the second line ordered them to move forward.

  Yaz took a deep gulp of air and started walking. Across Constitution, across the small level center island and finally up on the mall which led to the bottom of the Monument’s hill. He could see the Circle soldiers had stopped moving around and were now taking up positions behind their barricades.

  “God help us …” Yaz thought, as the first fusillade of gunfire erupted from behind the enemy fortifications.

  The tanks immediately returned the fire, blowing small holes in the barricades. Suddenly a pair of antitank rockets flashed out from behind the Circle fortifications, both of them impacting at the same time on the lead tank, enveloping it in a huge fiery explosion. When the smoke cleared away, there was nothing left but a large hulking wreck.

  Still they kept marching up the hill. Men in the first line were dropping with bullets to their heads or stomachs and Yaz did his best not to walk on top of their bodies. Another concentrated fusillade erupted from the enemy lines, only to be answered by two direct hits from the pair of remaining tanks.

  His line was about halfway up the hill when the APC rolled up alongside him. Despite what Dozer had told them, Yaz moved closer to the machine, figuring he’d take his chances should it be hit by an anti-tank rocket.

  “First line, double time!” Dozer screamed from his position at the front of the entire force and quickly the paratroopers broke into a run up the hill.

  The next thing he knew, Yaz was running too. The air was thick with bullets and hot flaming shrapnel. Men were falling all around him and yet he continued. He was more than halfway up the hill and he had yet to fire his weapon.

  Within a few seconds of running, he was out of breath. But he kept going simply on adrenaline. For the first time he could actually see the faces of the enemy soldiers firing down on them—the whites of their eyes!—and it was then he realized exactly what the odds were. There were at least four times as many Circle soldiers behind the barricades than he had previously thought. In an instant a devastating thought came to him. Was this really an attempt to take this hill and save the hundreds of thousands of books in the tower? Or was it more a valiant yet d
oomed effort—a kind of symbolic gesture that would result in their decimation?

  Just as suddenly, he realized he didn’t care. For the second time that day he thought: “This is what it’s like to die for your country …”

  They were running full tilt now and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t been hit, the air was so filled with flying lead. He remembered reading something about how the American Indians prepared to go into battle. They thought if they dwelled on being invisible, they would become invisible, and thereby escape injury during the fight.

  From that moment on, Yaz tried to concentrate on being invisible. But he knew it would take more than mind power to save them all.

  They needed a miracle …

  Suddenly there was a tremendous screech directly above them. Then there was a series of tremendous explosions all along the Circle barricades. Then Yaz felt himself running at top speed. It happened so fast, he didn’t know at first what was going on. Then he looked up and directly above him—no more than 50 feet high—was the F-16XL.

  One miracle coming up …

  Somehow, the F-16XL made two more devastating strafing runs before Yaz’s line reached the top of the hill. Later he would learn that Hunter had already provided similar support to the other UA attacks at the Capitol and at the Lincoln Memorial all within the matter of a few minutes. Yaz would later realize that the Wingman had picked his targets at the top of Monument Hill so carefully, not a single spark had reached the gasoline soaked tower of books.

  In the midst of the confusion of battle Yaz had thought he had heard sirens. Now, just as he was about to go over the top of the smoking Circle fortifications, out of the corner of his eye he could see three fire trucks tearing up the hill behind them, several paratroopers and a load of civvies hanging off them.

  But now Yaz could realize that Hunter had other problems. There was another screech in the air. He looked up and saw two MiG-23s bearing in from the south. Hunter put the F-16XL into a freakish, near-impossible turn and immediately engaged the enemy aircraft. Yaz felt his stomach flip. It was obvious that Hunter, their guardian angel, would be busy for a while.