by J B Black
“Instead of being required to surrender their weapons while staying at the hacienda, visiting criminal guests are expected help out with the defense of the hacienda, in case it’s attacked. So, if Honey and Sarah are still in one of the guest quarters on the second floor of the mansion’s East wing, Reb and I are going to be awfully exposed walking down that breezeway, if there are any armed guests staying there.”
Justin raised his hand and said, “Since the breezeway is adjacent to the open interior courtyard, Rich and I can cover you with the drones while you and Reb are out on the breezeway.”
“Good point, Justin,” Jake said. “We’ll plan for one or both of the Guardian Angels to cover the breezeway if and when Reb and I have to cross it to get to the hostages.”
“By the way,” Justin said, “How concerned should we be about someone at the mansion, or elsewhere for that matter, hearing the C-130 when it drops us off and they decide to come investigate?”
“From what we know, they have a pretty good amount of air traffic at their airfield,” Jake answered. “Hopefully, the sound from the C-130 won’t be that unusual, but, if someone does come to investigate, we’ll just have to deal with it like we would any other unexpected event.
“Justin, what you and Rich have got to realize is that this plan is what we would like to have happen. The enemy is going to do his damnedest to throw a monkey wrench into our plan and we’ll have to adapt to the actual conditions we encounter, or we will fail. Got that?”
Justin and Rich both nodded their heads indicating they understood.
“What about the DEA undercover agent, this Sofia Cortez, who’s at the mansion?” Rich asked.
“We—meaning General Davidson, Deputy Assistant Director Gonzalez, and I—discussed that, and decided on the following. As soon as we fly out of Hurlburt Field, I’ll notify General Davidson. General Davidson, in turn, will authorize Deputy Assistant Director Gonzalez to notify her agent we are en route with an estimated time of arrival in approximately two and a half hours.
“Once we’re on the ground we’ll contact the agent at the number Deputy Assistant Director Gonzalez has given us to let her know we are on site. She’ll tell us where Honey and Sarah are being held in the house at that time. Using the floor plan the DEA agent has provided, Reb and I will be able to go straight to that location and rescue the girls.
“Once we’ve rescued the girls, I will then notify you guys to drive to the mansion so you can pick all of us up for the drive to the airfield.”
“What about the other members of the cartel there at the plantation?” Rich asked. “Shouldn’t we be worried about them?”
“Obviously, you haven’t been informed about the Ghostriders,” General Davidson said.
“No sir,” Rich said. “Nobody said anything about any Ghostriders.”
“Well, you can rest assured the Ghostriders will eliminate any opposition you may encounter on the way from the mansion to the airfield,” General Davidson said. “For that matter, I expect the Ghostriders will effectively put the hacienda out of business, by the time they are done there.”
“Sorry about that, Rich,” Justin said, “I’ll bring you up to speed on the Ghostriders while we’re flying down to Florida.”
“Now back to business,” Jake continued. “While we’re waiting for the expedition vehicle to pick us up at the mansion, I’ll contact the Ghostriders—I’d forgotten Rich knew nothing about—and authorize them to start destroying all of the plantation’s drug production capability.
“After everyone is safely on board the expedition vehicle, we will proceed to the plantation’s airfield at this location.”
Jake used his laser pointer to show where the airfield was located. “Our ride will meet us here and we will drive the expedition vehicle onto the plane. The Loadmaster and his crew will secure the expedition vehicle. And we will bid what is left of the Vicario plantation a fond farewell as we head back to Hurlburt Field. Any questions?”
When no one had anything to say, Jake said, “That’s it for the briefing, then. Justin, Rich, I’ll meet you down in the garage in say 15 minutes and we’ll head over to Andrews to catch our ride down to Hurlburt Field. Don’t forget to bring your go bags and the drones.”
* * *
Justin and Rich went from General Davidson’s conference room down to the Quartermaster section in the sub-basement where Justin and his assistants developed various and sundry gadgets for use in the field by the FBIS agents.
They grabbed their go bags and piled them—along with six hardsided cases containing six of the latest versions of the drones Justin had spent the better part of the last year developing, spare parts, ammunition, tools, and other gear—on a dolly and proceeded to the garage to meet up with Jake.
* * *
After getting his go bag out of his office, Jake called Reb on his cell phone as he headed down to the garage. “Hey, Reb, it’s Jake. Where are you?”
“On my way to Hurlburt Field,” Reb replied. “Left a few minutes ago, got tired of sitting around twiddling my thumbs.”
“How’re you holding up, buddy?” Jake asked.
“Jake, I’m not going to lie to you,” Reb answered. “I’m really worried about Honey, but I’m okay so far as being capable of going in and rescuing her without putting anybody else in jeopardy because of my personal involvement with Honey. So, what’ve you got for me, buddy?”
“I’m on the way over to Andrews right now with the rest of the team to catch a ride down to Hurlburt Field there in Mary Esther, Florida. Our ETA at Hurlburt is looking like ten thirty your time. You drive carefully on your way over to Mary Esther. They’ll be expecting you at the main gate and bring you to us. And, Reb, just so you know, I never doubted for a moment you’d be anything but a professional when it comes to saving someone you care about. See you at Hurlburt Field. Gotta run.”
CHAPTER 31
En route to Hurlburt Field
Thursday, May 6, 2010
After boarding the C-20 the Air Force had on standby at Andrews AFB for the trip down to Hurlburt Field, Jake took a seat in the rear of the plane, opened his briefcase, took out the map of Hacienda Vicario and the floor plans of the Hacienda’s mansion and started studying them in an effort to commit them to memory.
Justin and Rich took their seats at the front of the passenger compartment.
After the plane leveled off at its cruising altitude and the seat belt sign was turned off, Justin and Rich got out of their seats and headed to the plane’s galley to see what beverages were available in the refrigerator.
As they were walking down the aisle, Justin said, “Hey, Jake, you want anything to drink?”
Jake looked up from the material he was studying and said, “No thanks, I’m good.”
Justin and Rich grabbed a couple of soft drinks out of the fridge and returned to the front of the plane. Instead of going back to their seats, they sat down on opposite sides at one of the two-seater conference table settings across the aisle from their seats.
After taking a swig from his can of soda, Rich looked at Justin and said, “Alright, fill me in on this Ghostrider thing.”
“Okay. I’ve told you about us having an expedition vehicle equipped with a Command Center module from which we can operate our drones. Here’s the background on that. Jake and General Davidson do a lot of strategic planning. You know, like what-if scenarios. One of those scenarios involved hostage rescue in a remote non-urban hostile territory. They decided that particular situation would require a heavy-duty expedition type vehicle capable of going off road equipped with a Command Center module mounted on the back. The expedition vehicle would carry both Guardian Angel and Bodyguard drones which would be operated from within the Command Center to provide reconnaissance and close air support for the rescue team.”
“What’s that got to do with these Ghostriders General Davidson mentioned?” Rich asked.
“I’m getting there,” Justin said. “Anyway, it was decided that the
best way to transport the expedition vehicle into a remote non-urban hostile location would be with the C-130 because of its ability to land and takeoff from places without a runway like a dirt road or an open field. Once the expedition vehicle was on the ground, with the drone operators in the Command Center operating the Guardian Angel and Bodyguard drones in support of the hostage rescue team, the parked expedition vehicle would be pretty vulnerable to attack.”
“I thought you said one or two of the Guardian Angels would remain with the expedition vehicle as a sentry in case of an attack,” Rich said.
“That would help some, but not enough against a serious attack,” Justin replied. “You’re familiar with the AC-130 gunships.”
“Sure. I’ve played Call of Duty just like you have.”
“Well,” Justin said, “Jake and General Davidson decided the perfect air cover for the expedition vehicle would be a couple of AC-130 gunships flying in a standoff position monitoring the situation.
“Jake found out the Air Force is working on the development of the new AC-130J through his contact at the Pentagon and General Davidson was able to convince the Air Force to make available two AC-130Js and two C-130Js for the FBIS’ Hostage Rescue Team stationed out of Hurlburt Field in Mary Esther, Florida. They call this version of the AC-130 the Ghostrider.” Justin said.
“So, how badass is the Ghostrider?” Rich asked.
“Well, it’s got a fully integrated digital avionics system meaning they only require a pilot and a co-pilot to fly the J version as opposed to the need for a navigator and flight engineer in addition to the pilot and co-pilot in the older versions,” Justin said. “And the J version is faster, has longer range, and is more fuel efficient.”
“I mean what about the firepower?” Rich said.
“I’m just fucking with you, dude,” Justin said. “The Air Force was going to equip the Ghostriders with just the 30mm Bushmaster chain gun and the Bofors 40mm cannon for its gun complement, but Jake talked directly to the gunship crews we’re working with to get their input and, on our two Ghostriders, there’s one 25mm GAU-12 Gatling gun that can fire up to 1,800 rounds per minute, there’s one 40mm L60 Bofors cannon that can fire a single round at a time or 120 rounds per minute on full auto, and, last but not least, there’s one 105mm M-102 howitzer that can fire 6 to 10 rounds per minute. And our Ghostriders carry a good size load of ammunition for the guns: one hundred 105mm rounds, two hundred fifty 40mm rounds, and three thousand 25mm rounds.”
“Damn, that’s a lot of firepower,” Rich said.
“Did I mention the four Hellfire missiles they carry on wing pylons?” Justin asked.
“Sure sounds like our Ghostriders are going to pound the ever-loving shit out of the cartel’s drug operation at the plantation, after Jake gives them the go ahead,” Rich said.
“Hell yeah, man,” Justin said. “Like General Davidson said, we’re gonna put them out of business.”
“Couldn’t happen to a more deserving bunch of assholes,” Rich said.
The two friends did a high five. Then they got out their laptops and resumed playing their favorite game.
CHAPTER 32
Hurlburt Airfield
Mary Esther, Florida
Thursday, May 6, 2010
10:20 a.m. CDT
Reb drove up to the main gate at Hurlburt Field and informed the Airman on duty in the guard shack who he was there to see. The Airman responded by pointing out a Humvee parked just inside the gate and saying, “Sir, if you’ll follow that vehicle, they’ll take you to meet your party.”
Reb followed the Humvee out to the 6th Special Operations Squadron’s area of operations on the base. The Humvee stopped in front of a large hangar and the Airman driving pointed at the hangar—indicating that Reb had arrived at his destination—and then drove off.
Reb drove inside the hangar just in time to see Jake getting off the C-20 jet he had flown in on from Washington.
Jake spotted Reb and waved him over.
Reb parked next to the jet, got out, and received a bear hug from Jake.
A low-profile tow tractor pulling a baggage trailer behind it pulled up next to the jet and Justin and Rich started off-loading all of their gear from the plane and placing it on the baggage trailer.
“Who are those two?” Reb asked
“The one on the right is Justin Beauregard and the other one is Rich Carson,” Jake said.
“Let me guess, they’re geeks,” Reb said good naturedly.
“You’ve got it. Justin is our Quartermaster at the FBIS. He runs our Research and Development division and Rich is his assistant. They come up with all of the gadgets that give us the edge out in the field.” Jake said.
An oversize golf cart drove up and the four men jumped in the back seats. With the golf cart in the lead and the tow tractor following with their gear, they drove out to the flight line. Parked a short distance away, were two AC-130Js and one C-130J with their motors idling, ready for takeoff the moment Jake’s team, Reb, and the gear got on board the C-130J. The golf cart pulled up to the lowered ramp of the C-130J.
As the tow tractor drove up the ramp with all of their gear, the men clambered off the golf cart. They were met by a bespectacled black officer in a flight suit with the insignia indicating that he was a pilot and a Lieutenant Colonel.
Lieutenant Colonel Robert Jackson—a legend in the Air Force’s AC-130 squadrons for his extraordinary and, sometime controversial, exploits in both Afghanistan and Iraq—was grinning ear to ear.
“Good to see you again, Jake,” the Colonel said as he and Jake shook hands and pounded each other on the back.
“Colonel Jackson, it’s good seeing you again, too,” Jake said. “I didn’t know you were going with us on this rescue mission.”
“Wild horses couldn’t keep me from going on this mission, Jake,” Colonel Jackson said. “I’ll be your flight leader.”
“Glad to hear that,” Jake said. “Colonel Jackson, this is Reb Rogers, you know Justin, and this is Rich Carson. Guys this is Colonel Robert Jackson.”
Reb’s brow furrowed and he got a quizzical look on his face. “You’re not the same Colonel Jackson who was involved in that kerfuffle in Afghanistan where an AC-130 opened fire on a group of unknown hostiles that was ambushing a vastly outnumbered SEAL team—without first clearing it with the lawyers at the White House—are you?”
“Guilty as charged,” Colonel Jackson responded. “American lives were in jeopardy and I sure as hell didn’t need some stinking lawyer—seven thousand miles removed from the action—tell me how to do my job.”
Everyone shook hands, as Jake continued for Reb’s benefit, saying, “Colonel Jackson and his people have been working closely with the FBIS in developing a fast response strike unit for missions just like this one. This will be the first time we get to actually put that training to good use. Right, Colonel?”
“That’s right, Jake,” Colonel Jackson said. “We’re ready to go as soon as you board. Enjoy the flight.”
Colonel Jackson saluted and headed back to his plane.
The four men walked up the ramp, went past the expedition vehicle their gear had been stored aboard, and found seats in the two rows of airline-style passenger seats that had been specially installed for this mission.
As the plane was taxiing out to the takeoff runway, Jake called General Davidson. “General, we’re about to takeoff. You can go ahead and tell Deputy Assistant Director Gonzalez to let her undercover agent know we’re on the way, sir.”
* * *
As soon as the C-130J they were flying on reached cruising altitude and leveled out, Reb and Jake got up and stretched their legs.
While Justin and Rich remained in their seats doing some work on their laptop computers, Reb and Jake walked back to where the expedition vehicle was sitting.
Jake had already informed Reb that the flight time from Hurlburt Field to their destination—between the city of Córdoba and the city of Veracruz in Mexico—was roughl
y two and a half hours, which meant they would arrive at their destination around two fifteen in the afternoon local time.
Reb looked at the big vehicle lashed to the floor of the plane and asked, “What the hell is this thing, anyway?”
“This, my friend, is what is known as an expedition vehicle. We call her Big Bertha,” Jake said. “We got an outfit by the name of Global to custom build this for us. It’s an International severe duty truck chassis with a Command Center mounted behind the cab. This thing is made for the great outdoors. The only difference between ours and the ones they make to go on safaris is the box on the back of the safari version is like a luxury RV. You know with beds and a mini kitchen and a toilet and a shower. Our Command Center has all of our comm gear and the electronics and the controls for our Guardian Angel and Bodyguard drones.”
Reb turned to Jake and said, “I’ve got a couple of questions. First off, what are these drones you’re talking about?”
“Justin and Rich can tell you better about that than I can. Hold on and I’ll go get them,” Jake said.
Jake went back to the passenger seats where Justin and Rich were sitting and brought them back to the expedition vehicle where Reb was waiting.
Justin opened the side door to the Command Center, lowered the steps, and went inside. He came right back out carrying one of the carrying cases for the drones. He set it down on the floor of the plane, opened it, pulled the drone out, and set it down on its landing gear. He unfolded the arms and then he unfolded the propellers.
Lastly, Justin unlocked the camera/gun assembly and it returned to a horizontal position.
“So, what have we got here?” Reb asked.
Justin said, “It’s a remote controlled hexacopter drone that’s equipped with a suppressed 9mm submachinegun.”
Reb walked over to examine the drone. Looking down at the top of the drone, Reb saw that the main body of the drone was a hexagonally shaped metal box. It was 18 inches wide from side to side and it was 4 inches deep, top to bottom. It was standing about 2 feet above the floor on upside down T-shaped legs. There were six arms sticking out from the main body with motors and propellers at the end of each arm. Underneath the body, Reb could see there was a camera and what looked like a submachinegun equipped with a suppressor.
