by T I WADE
General Patterson was called and three more Chinese American soldiers, including Major Chong, who was a couple of minutes out flying a 747, were to be sent over with a third group with more explosives in thirty hours. The general reported that the president would contact Westbrook or Bowers in the morning, seven hours from the current time, and set up a meeting within twenty-four hours after that. “I will inform the president that he must ask for the meeting the same day, not knowing that these guys need ten to twelve hours to get in. Also, the meeting time will be early, so that it is still dark in Alaska. We are hoping that they will ask for the next day to give them time to fly their long route into Washington and he will then not accept any other time as he and his family will be leaving Washington for an undisclosed location for two weeks. He will also leak that to the government members in Washington to make sure the word gets back.”
The fairly simple plan was put into motion. Since Colonel Wong was expected back by the guards at the gate, he decided to head back and make sure search parties were not sent out.
He was expected, and the same guards were awaiting his return. He entered making sure that they knew, and he knew that “Mao” was the password for the following day. They were put at ease when he actually told them the password and asked if they knew the next day’s password. They said that they didn’t, but the main guard house would know; one ran off and returned a few minutes later saying that ‘Zedong’ was the next day’s secret word and Wong thought it a good word to have on the day they would begin destroying this enemy base.
He looked over Hangar One as it grew dark. He now was ignored, apart from the general seeing him walking around the brightly lit hangar and headed over to him. Wong saluted.
“You are still inspecting, Wong?” General Lee asked.
“Yes, Sir. I checked out Hangar Three’s smell. It’s a mix of animal urine and rocket fuel I believe. I’m trying to figure out how to get rid of the smell. Since the engineers are going in sometime tonight, I thought I would ask them for advice. It is better to be in there when I ask the question. What do you think, General?”
“I would assume so,” a semi-dressed General Lee, responded.
“The reason I am working late, Sir, is to sort out a new problem I was made aware of by Corporal Bo in the security office. There was a report that somebody, he didn’t tell me who, was extremely sick today and the person thought it might be a contagious disease from either using a radio or a satellite phone. Was that your complaint, Sir?”
“If it is somebody getting sick, an officer, or a soldier, it must be a radio bug. Wong you had better sanitize all the radio receivers here on base. There is one in each hangar and the main one in the airfield control tower. Only the American civilians have satellite phones, I believe. Even I wasn’t issued one from the Chairman on his last visit. Can you imagine that?” the general stated, adding to his self-importance.
“The Chairman actually visited this airfield?” replied Wong in awe.
“Yes, several times once Hangar Three was complete. His last visit was around early November last year, just before he was to invade the world.”
“Pity, I missed that,” exclaimed Colonel Wong. “I met him once last year in Harbin; he shook both Colonel Rhu’s and my hand when he left in November. Maybe he was coming here.”
“Maybe,” replied General Lee, walking off. “Check the radios, Wong. Make sure they are clean. Wong, make sure everything is clean!” he joked, walking off and thinking what a lousy job this silly little colonel had.
The silly little colonel found what he was looking for, several empty Chinese military back packs in a stores section underneath the living quarters and he stuffed them in one bag and headed out of the hangar.
* * *
Twelve hours later the president was in contact with Peter Westbrook.
“It has been suggested by several civilians, and a couple of members of both Houses of Congress, Mr. Westbrook, that you and I should hash out an agreement of some sort. My generals are dead against it, but being a politician, I must play both sides, so I was thinking of discussing how to please both camps, and get this country up and running again. Many have been worried about the loss of money; several congressmen and I need to discuss with you and Mr. Bowers what should happen for the rest of this year. Are you willing to fly back into Washington and discuss your ideas with me and the members of both Houses?”
“Yes, Mr. President, but this will be the last time. Mr. Bowers and I have the whole world to pick and choose from right now, and China, I’ve been told, is needing leaders and outside help and actually needs more assistance than you and the United States needs right now. Maybe we should move our headquarters and interests into China. There are far more people there than the current population of the United States.”
“Mr. Westbrook, how are you obtaining this information?” asked the president slyly. “The entire world’s global communications are down, there are no phones or communications even from here to London, yet you can obtain information from China? How is that?”
“Classified information, Mr. President,” Westbrook replied confidently. “We have our ways and means; and the whole system isn’t down, just all the modern U.S. and European systems. Bowers and I aren’t anywhere near the USA, and you and I are speaking on a satellite phone aren’t we, Mr. President? I assume you were handed one after beating off the Chinese bandits trying to invade your country. I’m sure you have several dozen phones around the country. Mr. President, it also sounds like you don’t have very much in the way of communications, and you haven’t heard that communications are normal in China and most of Asia. I just spoke to the head of their government yesterday in Beijing, and he stated that we would have carte blanche over there in our dealings with them, and the yen is still working fine in Beijing, Mr. President. This time we will meet at Dulles. I’m not happy landing at a military airbase.”
When General Patterson was told that a meeting was to be had in Washington in 24 hours’ time, and the president relayed the information about Westbrook’s bragging about China, he laughed.
“I’m wondering who is in the dark, Mr. President? He is doing well to hoodwink you, and I’m sure he hasn’t even headed over to China since the New Year, because he would have headed into Harbin, Nanjing or radiation in Beijing. Our powerful radar systems based in Misawa or Harbin would have seen them come in. He’s playing you, and I think trying to find out how much you know. I’m glad you have finalized a meeting, and we will be ready both sides of the country once they touch down at Dulles. Mr. President, the nuclear threat is real and their aircraft will be boarded and taken over this time. I know they think landing at Dulles will be safer than an air force base, but their aircraft will be commandeered. All you have to do, Mr. President, is to have the enemy in position in the room. General Austin will have hundreds of men around and at all doors to the meeting room at Dulles. You must find out who is on our side and who isn’t.”
* * *
Thirty hours after General Patterson talked to the president, while he was having breakfast in the White House, there were silent, dark bodies swimming to shore just south of Cold Bay.
Due to the cold water Major Chong’s teeth were rattling in his mouth, and he knew that if he opened his mouth, they would wake up the whole world. The dry suit was doing its job, but was a little big for him and several pints of icy water had leaked in during his ascent, and didn’t seem to want to warm up.
His feet finally touched the bottom of the stony beach; two Seals were propelling him together with a large floating waterproof bag of several packs of C-4 and detonators, and the major was sure that this cargo added to his teeth losing control and making this weird noise.
It took both men to lift his cold body out of the water. He had the pressed Chinese uniform of a major in a waterproof air-tight bag in one arm. The outfitters had run out of colonel insignia after his colleague Wong headed out.
“Chong, are you there?” he heard his
friend calling to him silently from out of the darkness.
“Yes, Comrade Wong. I need to get this freezing, crappy suit off me. There is water inside and it is freezing parts of my body. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to use them again.”
They helped the major out of his suit and wrapped him in his dry sleeping bag.
For the next couple of hours of darkness, the third Seal team arrived after Major Chong. Only forty men swam to shore, floating in the rest of the baggage the major had floated in on; namely high explosive packs, timers, and detonators. The arrival twenty-four hours earlier had been delayed to get Chong aboard the submarine.
Lieutenant Murphy was the last man to reach dry land as the submarines quietly reversed and then slipped down the channel one at a time and away to the other shipping now a hundred miles south of their island base. General Patterson had asked Admiral Rogers for the ships to retreat further out to sea, in case they were spotted by the two Gulfstreams after takeoff.
The three lieutenants got about setting up their plan of attack. They had 95 men against an army of 3,000. Fair odds they thought. No other weapons or equipment had been landed anywhere in the area, and they were told that it was impossible, other than by helicopter. So they were on their own, apart from thousands of Marines and two other Seal Teams currently at Dillingham an hour’s flying time away, but ready to jump into the fight. The fighter jets and attack helicopters were over 15 to 45 minutes flying time away, and with a bit of accuracy the naval ships could rip the airfield to shreds, once the civilians were out of there. The frigates had the exact coordinates of the airfield on maps, and they would know their own from old-fashioned sea navigation, accurate enough at ten miles, to put several dozen nice holes in each aircraft hangar every minute.
The Seal leaders were impressed that the single 72-MM guns on each of the frigates could fire up to a hundred rounds a minute into a building the size of an aircraft hangar with 90 percent accuracy, when necessary. Once the Gulfstreams were flown out they just needed four hours to get back into range.
Three hours later and a couple of hours after dawn, the Seals heard the roar of jet engines and, minutes later they all made sure everything was under camouflage as the first Gulfstream swept by at a few hundred feet above the ground, and about a hundred yards to their west; they watched it as it turned right to head north. It stayed low, didn’t climb as a normal aircraft would on take-off, and it disappeared quickly leaving two steams of dark exhaust fumes in its wake just above the horizon.
The second jet did exactly the same fifteen minutes later and followed the path of the first one and within seconds was also out of sight.
“Birds have flown the coup,” stated Charlie Meyers into his satellite phone and Alaska and the entire United States commenced preparations for battle.
Wong and Chong, dressed in their uniforms, carefully headed towards the closest enemy jeep. The men, checked for sleeping more times in the last twenty-four hours than in the recent six months, were alert this time.
“Halt, who goes there?” ordered a voice as they neared. “Show yourselves, or we shoot!” stated the voice in Chinese.
“Well done, soldiers,” replied Colonel Wong standing up. He had tried to bend down as close to the jeep as possible, knowing the Chinese backpacks would give them away. “It seems my checking on you has paid off.”
“Password,” ordered the sergeant, brandishing his AK 47 at the two men.
“Mao,” replied Wong. “Colonel Wong and Major Chong inspecting your admirable attention to duty, Sergeant Do!” The man and the rest of the five-man missile squad stood to attention and saluted. “Major Chong will be in charge of checks from tomorrow, and I think you should tell the men he is far stricter than me. He was part of the Chairman’s personal guard unit until the Chairman left for America.”
“Yes, Sir!” shouted the men in unison.
“May I ask one question, Sir?” the sergeant asked.
“Yes, replied the colonel.
“How did you get to the south of us? We had eyes and binoculars checking for you since we arrived at dawn this morning.”
Major Chong felt a lump in his throat, and his face felt like it was going white, but his trusty colleague always seemed to have an answer for everything.
“Easy, we used the noise of the jets to walk through the open areas while you were all looking up at the flying aircraft. Were any of you not looking skywards when the jets went overhead?” Nobody replied, but nodded to each other. “Question answered, Sergeant. Keep up the good work.” And the two men headed up the road towards the airport as if they owned the airfield.
“Pretty close one there, Chong. Our free time walking around here is getting suspect with a few of the men. As Charlie stated, he needs to know every internal fortification inside the airfield by tonight, so we are going to find you a clip board, find my friend the lieutenant driving the jeep, and he will take you around, and you can make a map on the paper as he drives you to every post,” stated Wong as they headed up the road. Colonel Wong often pointed his swagger stick in unimportant directions, In case anybody was watching them. Over several dozen soldiers were.
The password was given and they entered the gate. The colonel asked for a jeep, and this time a sergeant arrived driving the same jeep as yesterday.
“Where is the lieutenant?” asked Wong carefully handing his backpack to the major to place in the rear of the jeep.
“He took off this morning in one of the jets, his usual guard detail, Sir,” the sergeant responded.
“Oh well, I hope he enjoys his trip. How many men does he command in the aircraft?” asked Wong.
“A full detail of twelve men in each aircraft, sir. Your friend, the lieutenant, is in the first one and my Lieutenant Fung and his men are in the second.”
“Sergeant this is Major Chong, my second-in-command for ground inspections today. I want a full report from the major by midday, so no tea breaks, understand?”
“But, Colonel, the checks are already in progress with Captain Chung Wo; he does it every day,” the sergeant responded, puzzled.
“I know, but sometimes even officers need to be checked. We are checking more for cleanliness, cigarette butts and dirt, not the guard details, understand?” The man nodded.
First the sergeant was directed to Corporal Bo’s office where a clipboard and paper were found, Colonel Wong’s name tag retrieved and then Wong asked the driver where the main runway maintenance was located. The sergeant didn’t know but he asked somebody sweeping a pathway outside Hangar Two and he pointed to the rear of the building next to the American prisoners’ building on the other side of the runway.
The two guards were in place as usual and since he had arrived after inspection this day, the prisoners were doing odd jobs around the area, guarded by several smoking guards.
He found what he was looking for in the maintenance area; a sprayer used for spraying bugs. He used to have one at home and it had a line from the sprayer-handle to a backpack tank. It was an American model, he noticed as he had seen the sprayer before. He carried it out and asked the driver to head over to Hangar Three.
Here he issued orders for two guards to take the heavy packs out of the back of the jeep; he lifted the spray unit onto his back and ordered the men carrying the packs to follow him to the hangar steps. The lieutenant in charge of the large guard detail checked his badge and he reached the steps as the jeep headed out of view.
“Just leave them here,” he ordered the two men as they reached the bottom of the long staircase. “They are full of cans of toxic spay for the smell in there. Tell your lieutenant that the general might be coming to inspect later today, so be prepared for a visit.” The two men saluted and left the colonel and his twenty explosive devices as they returned up the stairs.
It took Colonel Wong two hours to find the best locations for the fist-sized blocks of C-4, including a timer and detonator Major Chong might have helped swim in with. The timers were set for a pre-dete
rmined time, which gave them and the travelers in the jets, time to arrive and finalize plans. They didn’t have the luxury of radio or phone detonators, and the timing had been carefully planned with all interested parties here, at Dulles and at Andrews to proceed with their agendas.
Charlie Meyers was hoping to carry in a few more packs later that night, but this mission was setup in case he and his men weren’t able to get in.
There were no real openings, apart from underneath, in and around the rocket motors. Wong managed to squeeze a pack high up, inside, in-between and a foot away from the three rocket motor exhausts pointing downwards. He hoped that it would be cool enough to allow the rocket to get out of its hole before it exploded, but it didn’t really matter; he hoped he wouldn’t be anywhere near here when the explosives detonated. The magnetic attaching device would not let go once bonded to a metal and Wong had to be careful and analyze the location before clamping the charge to the rocket.
He placed a second charge right on the tip of the 55-foot high rocket. He found a high 12-foot section ladder, placed it up against the 25,000 pound missile, climbed up the remaining 30 feet and did his best to shape the charge to blend in with each of the rocket tips as best he could. He was quite surprised how sharp the tip was, and slowly molded the C-4 to cap the point. Only the timer stood out, but it was nearly invisible once he got down again. For the next hour he placed the remaining charges in and around the dozens of vehicles inside the hangar. He also found the mechanism which opened the hangar roof and placed his third and last one around it.
