Hannibal is at the Gates

by David Kershner

  The pilot whistled and turned to his commanding officer and said, “Sir, that’s over five hundred nautical miles from here. It’ll be tight, but we can make the destination. We will need fuel to get back though. Where do we get that?”

  General Howard answered by saying, “Rickenbacker Air Force Base is forty clicks northwest of there. Get refueled there, son.”

  “That’s still cutting it close, sir.”

  “Lose some weight by ditching the combat crew and remove the guns. Turn this thing into a flying gas can. Get on it, Lieutenant,” the General ordered.

  Having received a satisfactory answer from the Four Star General, the pilot took his seat, began flipping switches, and started spinning up the machines seven massive rotor blades. The gunners exited the chopper grabbing the .50 cal’s and ammo on their way out.

  Ten minutes later the General was airborne and headed to see Josh for the first time in decades. The Super Stallion typically has a range of five hundred and forty nautical miles. By ditching the extra weight, the General provided more than enough fuel savings to make the trip.

  Throughout the flight, Brent goaded and cajoled the pilots to push the aircraft to its max speed of two hundred miles per hour. As a result, the flight only took three.

  Chapter 4

  Josh had awoken to his customary 4:45 AM alarm. He showered and quietly opened Layla’s door and quickly peeked inside. All three girls were asleep. There were mattresses on the floor and clothes strewn everywhere. Granted, his room at the Academy was never allowed to look a shambles, but what he saw before him is what he had always envisioned college to resemble.

  The new blended family of four had stayed up close to midnight talking. Heather had regaled them with stories of Hollywood, movie premieres, and her life with Jessica. In kind, Josh supplied her with all of the pertinent background information on himself, his parents, and his time in the military. He also told her everything he remembered about her mother. He even managed a fairly decent impression of her grandfather when he was trying to give Josh orders to essentially babysit the budding actress.

  In response, Heather had confided, “You guys want to know a secret I’ve never said out loud to anyone?”

  “Sure,” her sisters replied eagerly.

  “The top five biggest hits for me as a singer were written by my mother. The song writing credit was officially listed as me, but they were all penned by her.”

  Heather went on to explain that all were ballads dealing with heartache, lost love, and bad breakups. Given the information being provided by her father, she was confident now that they were all about their time together, as brief as it was. The three of them thought she was joking until she pulled up the lyrics to her songs on Josh’s computer.

  Layla and Katherine then used the opportunity to brag about their father’s musical talents by pulling up video of him from the Vinton County Harvest Festival. The song and the dedication to Samantha made her cry. She then proclaimed her father to be hopeless romantic.

  Josh strode back into the cabin by 7:45 to find his three daughters and Basilia chattering away like a bunch of little old ladies in the kitchen. Josh took one look at the assembled estrogen-fest and headed back out the way he came. The interaction was good for all of his daughters nonetheless; he just didn’t need to be there for the gabbing. As a result, he hopped back in his Rhino and went to Juan’s for breakfast.

  When he knocked on Juan’s door, Juan and his sons immediately began raucously laughing. Jesus opened the door and said confidently, “Thanks Patrón! I just won twenty dollars!”

  “How do you figure that?” Josh replied.

  “We had a bet to see how long you’d stay in a cabin full of women. I figured you’d be back here in less than ten minutes. Abelardo said fifteen, but Dad said you’d gut it out.”

  “Nice vote of confidence guys,” Josh sheepishly replied.

  The four men ate and then resumed their normal daily tasks around the farm. Josh and Juan reviewed the next weeks produce orders while his sons moved the grazing animals to the north paddock. In all, Josh’s farm held a small twelve head herd of Randall cattle, seven Corriedale sheep, three Morgan horses, and, although it took some research, two Gypsy Horses.

  Josh had chosen this breed of bovine because they fulfilled three purposes: beef, milk, and draft. The Morgan’s were for riding and the lamb used for wool and meat. The Gypsy’s were powerful and were meant as replacements to the tractors and machinery if the need ever arose. If the Tin Foil Hat Club could be believed, it wasn’t a matter of if they’d be needed, but rather when.

  The farm also held an assortment of dove, quail, duck, and pheasant, but they were content to roam and inhabit the hedgerows and underbrush. There were also a dozen chickens and one annoying rooster kicking around the farm. Josh thought that he might have to kill that thing if it didn’t learn to shut up.

  By early afternoon, the four men were hungry and headed into the cabin for lunch. Once inside, they found that the women had moved a grand total of twenty feet. The distance needed to get from the breakfast table to the family room. A fire was going, but the kitchen was immaculate. Basilia had left a loaf of bread, a side of smoked ham, lettuce, tomato, and condiments on the counter for them.

  The four men were summarily scolded for wearing their boots in the house and then again when it was discovered that they had destroyed the previously spotless room. They had just finished cleaning up their mess and were about to take their seats when Josh heard the distinctive thwack, thwack, thwack.

  He put down his sandwich and walked silently into the family room. The four women stopped their conversation and stared at him. As the thumping of the rotor blades grew louder, Josh sighed loudly.

  Layla was about to ask what the sound was when her father said something that neither she, nor her sister, had ever heard him say. As he stood with his eyes locked at the ceiling, he said, “Ah, shit.”

  When he headed to the door, the whole of the cabin followed suit. Josh unassumingly put his boots back on and went silently on the front porch as the sound grew more intense. With his daughters on either side of him, Heather asked, “What is that?”

  “That is a Marine Corps Super Stallion,” he replied.

  “The Marines don’t have a base anywhere near here,” Katherine interjected. “They must be lost. What’s it doing here?”

  “It’s here for Heather,” Josh answered.

  “Me? What did I do?” Heather questioned.

  “You didn’t do anything. It’s your grandfather,” he offered.

  Josh’s youngest daughter could feel herself filling with rage. It had been less than twenty-four since she’d learned the truth.

  “I’m sorry, Heather, but this has to be done,” Katherine said as she stepped off of the porch and started walking toward the landing Marine chopper.

  The enormous bird touched down and the rear door slid open to reveal General Brent Howard in full regalia. He shut the door, snapped a quick salute to the pilots, and the helo immediately dusted off. As they were ascending to begin the quick flight to Rickenbacker for fuel, the pilot glanced down in time to see Katherine sucker punch the Four Star and knock him on his butt.

  Once the dust and debris churned up by the massive rotor blades stopped flying, the rest of the group stepped off of the porch. Josh was in no particular hurry and stayed on the porch. He’s earned every bit of that ass kicking, Josh thought as he smirked.

  * * *

  “Dr. Chastain is here to see you,” Mara said into the speaker phone, startling her uncle.

  “Send her in,” Elias announced.

  Emily walked through the door as the Secretary was coming out from behind his desk to greet her.

  “Dr. Chastain, what brings you to D.C?”

  “Please don’t call me that.”

  Taken aback, he changed the greeting, “Oh, okay. Mrs. Chastain?”

  “Don’t call me that either.”

  “Then I’m at a loss,” the
confused man replied.

  “Emily will be fine,” she corrected as she took her seat.

  Bewildered, Elias returned to his seat. As he sat, he asked, “So what can I do for you... Emily?”

  “I need you to give me a job,” she responded flatly.

  Chuckling, he replied, “I’m sorry?”

  Without realizing what she was saying, she hit him with a flood of personal information. “I gave Bathemore my resignation yesterday. I had to disconnect my cell phone because the press wants every piece of me. My husband successfully lied to me about his career in the Army. He’s currently listed as ‘missing in action’. Presumably, he’s dead. As if that weren’t enough, the doctors have added insult to injury by removing my ability to have a child.” She waved her hand in the air dismissively and said, “You already knew most of that.”

  Elias looked as if he were about to say something when she preempted him.

  “I’m trying to move on and I need you to give me a purpose. I’ve sold the house and I have some money to travel if I want, but I don’t want to leave my field of study. All I do know is that I can’t work at Bathemore anymore, not right now anyway.”

  “Why did you resign?” he asked clearly wanting to stay as far away from the husband and medical topics.

  “I guess I should correct that. I tried to, but they talked me into a sabbatical instead. I have one year to recharge my batteries they said,” she answered.

  Elias leaned back in his chair and contemplated the request. After a few silent moments of thought he proposed, “I think a change of scenery might be what you need. You said you’re open to travel, so would you be willing to collect data? In the field, I mean.”

  “Absolutely!” she said excitedly.

  “Well, all right then, it’s settled,” the old man replied. “Give me a day or two to work it out?”

  “That’ll be fine,” she replied.

  “Great. In the meantime, go see the sights, take in some monuments, and do a historical tour. Do you have a place to stay while you’re in town? If not, you can stay with me or Mara.”

  “I think I’d prefer to be alone at this point. I’ll find something. Maybe a nice B&B, I don’t know,” Emily answered.

  “Suit yourself. Anything else?”

  “Actually, yes. There was a man, a farmer,” she corrected. “The one that saved Samantha,” she began.

  * * *

  Suhrab, Mahtab, and Taj stepped aboard the Puerto Penasco, Mexico bound freighter and bid farewell to the Middle East with a quick prayer. For them, it was Allah’s will to strike at the heart of the infidel once more. The West had dominated the world and perverted it until it was nothing more than a decaying carcass. Neither Suhrab, nor any of his followers, concerned themselves with the headline making issues associated with women’s rights and the terroristic nature of Islamists. They didn’t adhere to those interpretations of the Koran. However, what they did concern themselves with was the warring between the tribes and the general decline of civilization as a whole. Their beliefs aligned more with the actual teachings of the Prophet.

  The three quickly reached their quarters inside the ventilated cargo container. Even with the cover of night, the dock lights illuminated much of the ship’s deck. Once they were in the belly of the ship, they relaxed a little.

  Eventually, they were joined in their compartment by five additional followers that comprised the team’s total complement. As they prepared their beds and stowed their effects, Suhrab turned and saw the trepidation on his men’s faces.

  Suhrab stopped what he was doing and said, “I know you are fearful. We are headed into the lion’s den. Just remember that every issue and problem we see today started with the West and its decadence. Throughout time, there have been monarchies with their empires and dynasties. Just about every country in recorded history has taken their turn at trying to rule the world. The Persians, English, Spanish, French, and Germans all failed. Some were more successful than others and some tried more than once. There were also the Romans, Incas, Aztecs, Ottomans, Mongols, and Russians. These civilizations all faded too. There is only one true empire left, the United States.

  “This journey is wrought with danger and peril. Remember your training. Maintain the communication silence. Keep your head down and wait for the appointed time.”

  Suhrab continued to misdirect and distract them from dwelling on the mission. The men needed to take their mind off of their future tasks. It was going to be a long ocean crossing.

  “Mahtab, tell me about the religions. What do you recall of the Imam’s teachings from the mountains?”

  The man quickly and nervously reiterated what he had been taught. “All three of the dominant religions of the world, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, believe in one true God and that it is the same God. We have different names for our God, but it is the same God. The earliest teachings of the Prophet acknowledged that life began with Adam. When Muhammad retook Mecca, he did it to unite the feuding tribes. He even removed all of the false god idols from the square surrounding the Kaaba, just like Jesus in the Temple.”

  “Excellent, Mahtab,” he replied. He then turned and said, “Taj, what happened after the Prophet won Mecca?”

  “The unification only lasted a generation beyond the Prophet’s death. The Sunni’s and Shiite’s began warring again and they have been at each other’s throats ever since.”

  “That is correct. Thank you, brothers,” Suhrab replied before continuing. “The tribes have been feuding non-stop for hundreds of years. Every time a global power intervened, the pendulum swung the other way. The Russians in Afghanistan and the United States response brought Bin Laden, the rigidity of the Taliban, and strict adherence to Sharia Law. The English and their oil exploration gave us the Saudi Royal Family and those little fiefdoms in Kuwait, the UAE, Bahrain, and Qatar. All of this meddling in Islamic affairs, coupled with the ‘Arab Spring’s’ and the Zionist State’s attacks have only served to heighten the conflict between the tribes.

  “The new empire will be the resurgence of the Muslim world with a return to the Prophets teachings. There is going to be peace in our lifetime, I swear it! We will shun the Islamists and their radicalized hooligan death squads. When we are done, the West will have been fully punished for their wickedness. Only then can the true unification of the tribes begin anew.”

  Suhrab and his intelligence network had been scheming for years just waiting for an opening. When the British PM approached all of the former oil producing nations, the situation was too perfect to let pass by.

  The more and more he thought about the reports that had been ferried to him from diplomats, the more ironic it was. The United States, with their greed, zeal, and worship of money were about to be undone by a bunch of debt collectors that had helped to create and fuel the machine. The least they could do was aid in its demise.

  “Does everyone know their assignments? Navid, where will you be heading?” Suhrab asked to keep lowering their tensions.

  “If Mexicans and the whole of Latin America can seemingly jump fences and rivers into the United States, we shall do the same. Their politicians in Washington have thundered on for years about the need for immigration reform and greater border security. Luckily, all they accomplished was division between their political parties. We will take advantage of these deficiencies.

  “We are to cross the boundary individually and maintain communication silence. I am to secure residence in the Mid-Atlantic region, acquire a P.O. Box, and begin resourcing the parts necessary for my device. Once assembled, I am to exert my training and the technology and perform a test fire at a target visible enough to make the news and alert all of you that I am online. Each of you will go to separate regions of the country and do the same.”

  The handheld RF tech had been born out when they took Gregg’s transport out of the sky. They had used the weapon to blast the low-flying aircraft with a directional EMP and disabled all of the on-board electronics. Once they heard the
engines shut down, they fired an RPG at the plane to disguise the use of the technology.

  The RF device was relatively simple in its design. Just about everything they needed could be bought in specialty stores. Some of the team members may get lucky and find the key component in a electronics store, but the members had to reconcile themselves with the fact that they may have to order the high-voltage pulse capacitor online. Thus the mailing addresses.

  “And how will we go undetected in the lion’s den?” Suhrab asked the assembled group.

  From the shadows of the container, a lone voice responded.

  “Every failed attack on the decadent homeland has been thwarted because of increased communication among the combatants. The NSA, FBI, and CIA and their snooping whisper programs can’t and won’t detect even a hint of us because we will be dark. No telephones, cell phones, or email allowed.”

  “Excellent, Adar! Spoken like a true warrior!” their leader replied emphatically.

  Suhrab always smiled and praised Allah every time a disillusioned and naïve whistleblower went running to the press or posted ‘Top Secret’ program initiative documents to internet sites. It may have eased their conscience, but all it really did was tell everyone wanting to do harm to the United States how to subvert the spy programs.

  The divulging of the software and tactics eventually derived the team of eight that Suhrab had assembled. At the appointed date and time, the group would go active and create chaos, panic, and mayhem. While they were busy shutting down key pieces of the U.S. infrastructure, Suhrab’s brother, Abbas, was to use the intel garnered from Gregg to complete his mission.

  As an act of compassion, or faith, Suhrab had released Gregg after they had everything they needed. He could read the displeasure on his men’s faces, but he had convinced himself that he wasn’t a monster. He didn’t kill for pleasure. He only did so when necessary as a means to an end. He killed to prove a point when someone needed convincing. The torment his prisoner would have to live with would last the rest of his life; that coupled with the scarring was punishment enough.