“Not exactly what I would expect,” Jeffrey said, looking at Stacy in the mirror.
She shrugged her shoulders.
Jeffrey curved the ship to the left.
Stacy asked, “Where are we going?”
“San Diego. Do you have a personal sat-phone on you?”
“No.”
“I’ll keep it smooth, go ahead and dig around in back. See if you can find any duffel bags or other personal items. Look for a sat-phone. I need to make a call.” Jeffrey increased his altitude to 400 feet to allow him to fly straight away so Stacy could walk around. With the IFF transponder blasting a big, electronic floodlight on them there was probably no benefit in running lower anyway. Whoever might come after them would still take time to launch more gunships, and if this was really a black-op, then it would take even longer to launch without triggering too much attention. That was all well and good, as long as they didn’t already have more gunships in pursuit.
“I found one,” Stacy said as she came back into the cockpit. She held the phone out beside Jeffrey.
“Dial for me.”
“Finally some caution? Thank God for that,” she said, strapping back into her seat.
Jeffrey gave Stacy the number. She entered into the phone’s screen. When the phone began to ring, she reached forward and tapped it on Jeffrey’s shoulder. He took it from her.
“Hello, Leif?” Jeffrey said into the phone.
“Dad?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Thank God you’re off duty.”
“Is there a problem?” Leif asked.
Jeffrey paused, considering what he was about to get his son into. Options were limited.
“You there? Dad?”
Jeffrey said, “Yes, sorry. First, let me apologize. By calling you I’m involving you in something fairly ugly, but I need your help… badly. Do you know how to disable the IFF transponder on a new generation Kiowa gunship?”
“What the hell kind of question is that?”
“Just answer it.”
“Yes. Definitely. But why?”
“You’re going to have to roll with me on this one.”
“Tampering with transponders is serious stuff, Dad.”
“Leif, I don’t have time for this, I…”
Leif cut him off, “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Long story short, we’ve had an attempt on our lives and...”
“We?”
“Yes. There are two of us.”
“Two? Who?”
“That’s not important right now.”
“Look dad, this is bizarre. Are you feeling all right?”
“I’m fine, I just need your help.”
“Sorry, but this is just way too out in left field.”
“What do you want from me?” Jeffrey asked, now angry. “I need your help, and I don’t have a lot of options. I would have gone to someone else, but—”
“Relax, relax. I just… Look, I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect this. You know I’ll do what I can.”
Jeffrey lowered the phone down and looked back at Stacy. “He’s going to help us.” He put the phone back to his ear.
Leif had continued talking. “…could try and walk you through it, but it will take some time.”
“Time is a luxury we don’t have.”
“I thought as much. I assume you are in a Kiowa then?”
“Yes.”
“Heading this way?”
“Yes, and broadcasting my location the whole way.”
“Don’t be so sure of it,” Leif said. “Those transponders get dodgy at low altitude and high speed. Can you get it low and fast?”
“Do you need to ask?”
“Look, no war stories, just get it low. 500 feet might be enough. Don’t go any lower than that though. You need to get here in one piece.”
“You telling me how to fly now?” Jeffrey looked back at Stacy. “He says we shouldn’t fly lower than 500 feet for safety. You two already have something in common.”
Leif asked, “Who are you talking to?”
“That’s the other one. You should meet her; she’s pretty as hell, and could probably kick your butt.”
Stacy scowled up at him through the mirror and made a motion with her thumb across her neck, ‘cut it off’. Jeffrey felt a smile pulling at his face, but suppressed it. She pointed at her eyes and then pointed in an angry jab out the front window to the ground rushing by.
Jeffrey asked Leif, “Can you get to the ball field where you did little league?”
“Yes, how long?”
“At this speed I can make it there in just under an hour,” Jeffrey said.
“I can do that. Is there anything else?”
“Yes, the people we are dealing with have a lot of firepower and are shooting to kill. Watch your back.”
“Yes, sir.”
“One last thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t give it a second thought,” Leif said, and hung up the phone.
“You know someone named, Leaf?” Stacy asked.
“My son.”
“Your son’s name is Leaf?”
“Something wrong with that?”
“It’s a little ‘moonbeam’ for a Marine’s son isn’t it?”
“It’s not ‘leaf’ like on a tree.” Jeffrey turned the ship right, curving around a large mesa. “It’s spelled L-E-I-F. I pronounce it ‘leaf’, which I’ve been told is wrong, but…” Jeffrey shrugged to complete his point. “It’s an old Norse name which, depending on who you ask, means ‘loved’. That’s the meaning I chose to give it. It made sense to me. From the day my wife told me she was pregnant I knew he was Leif.”
“Jeez,” Stacy said. “That’s really… sweet.” She was quiet for a moment, and then asked, “So he can help us with the transponder?”
“Says he can. He’s Army. Electronic counterintelligence.”
They flew on in silence for some time. Glancing back, Jeffrey saw Stacy’s head leaning forward, and he thought she might be drifting off to sleep after everything she’d been through. Then she looked up at him, her eyes red with tears.
In an angry, low tone she said, “What?” and then louder, “What?” She glared at him, daring him to keep looking at her crying.
“I make no judgments, Stacy. I’ve been there. It’s safe now. You can let it out a little.”
Stacy sighed and rubbed the tears out of her eyes, “I’m sorry, Jeffrey. Thanks.” She looked down. “I still can’t believe I’m alive.” She held up her hand and curled her fingers. “At this point just having hands and feet feels miraculous.” She continued looking at her hand for a moment. “Thanks, for saving my life.”
“The same to you,” Jeffrey said. “I couldn’t have gotten through that without your help.”
Jeffrey looked back in the mirror for a moment and saw Stacy’s face tighten and her lower lip tremble. Her hands came up to her mouth, and she sobbed with big, wet gasps, her whole body shaking. Jeffrey put his attention back on the desert, feeling terribly bad for her.
“I’m sorry, Stacy. Like I said, it’s very difficult the first time round. No one should have to experience it.”
“Oh,” Stacy said, the crying turning her voice like a little girl’s, “it’s not so much that I just killed someone.” Jeffrey glanced back at her as she wiped her eyes and rubbed her nose on her sleeve. Then anger came into her voice, “I know those bastards had it coming, but,” a sob stopped her short and she drew a deep breath. Her chin quivered as she said, “They were U.S. soldiers, weren’t they? Oh God, Jeffrey, what does that mean? We just killed something like eight or nine U.S. soldiers. They had families, right? They signed up and had the same dream we had, didn’t they? Serve the country?” She looked down.
Her crying filled the quiet space of the gunship’s cab, and Jeffrey felt an old sorrow weigh down on his chest. He gave her some time in silence.
When Stacy’s c
rying quieted, and she wiped at her tears again, he said, “I honestly don’t know what it means. Who’s serving the greater good is a complicated question, which very often goes unanswered. Sometimes we understand the big picture, and sometimes we only fight for our own hides.”
Stacy looked out at the mountains and said, quiet and calm now, “But what if we were wrong? What if they weren’t there to kill us? They didn’t fire a shot until we started killing them.”
“I can’t say with certainty if we just survived our own death or made the biggest mistake of our combined lives, but would an honest military solution involve killing an old man and strapping three Special Warfare trainees into a crashing ship?”
“No, it doesn’t make sense to me either.”
Jeffrey said, “My instincts are telling me that we have played our cards right so far.”
“Well that’s not much,” Stacy said, finally smiling, “but it’s something at least.”
“What are your instincts telling you?” Jeffrey asked.
“Something’s very wrong.” Stacy went quiet, looking out the side window. Jeffrey followed her eyes to a mountainside covered in pine trees.
She asked, “Do you think we’ll get out of this?”
“You want my true opinion?”
“What do you think?” Stacy said, and her scowl told Jeffrey ‘no B.S.’ At that moment, Jeffrey saw the fire in her returning. She would never be the same bright-eyed recruit she had been, but she appeared strong enough to keep going.
“Most likely this is going to end up with us dead or in prison. We have a slim margin to come out in a good way.”
“So why involve your son in such a slim margin?”
“Because with him involved, the margin gets a lot wider.”
CHAPTER 8
In the hills east of San Diego, boulders extend out of the green vegetation like bones from a carcass. The gunship came over those hills low and quick and crossed the town of Ramona. Jeffrey spotted the ball field just west of town, and he turned around it. He saw several cars slamming on their brakes in the surrounding streets. The neighborhood had grown smaller in the years since he had lived here. He saw where old houses had been recycled and the desert had returned. The houses that did remain were pleasant with palm fronds shading decorative gravel and small patches of grass. People walking on the sidewalks pointed up at the Kiowa.
He looked over the ball field. Beyond the first baseline fence he saw Leif’s car, but no Leif. He would not put down until he saw him. He turned the ship around, the jet wash blasting clouds of dust across the outfield. Third base flipped up and tumbled into the dugout. Jeffrey rotated the gunship around again and saw a police car come to a stop on the far side of the fence.
“Easy buddy,” Jeffrey said, “just see that it is outside of your ability to deal with and report it in. Stay in your car.”
Jeffrey saw Stacy straining to look and he turned the ship so she could see the cop getting out of his car.
“Oh great,” Stacy said.
“If he’s smart, he’ll do the right thing,” Jeffrey said, “just get back in his car and report it. A military gunship is out of his jurisdiction.”
Then Jeffrey saw Leif walking from the dugout. Leif held his arms straight out in front of him and pulsed his palms downward, telling Jeffrey to ‘land.’ He wore tan cargo pants and a dark green Army issue t-shirt and had a canvas bag slung over his shoulder. The t-shirt whipped over his skinny frame. Jeffrey turned the back of the ship toward Leif. Stacy unstrapped, and Jeffrey felt the air inside the ship bluster as the ramp opened. He set the ship down and looked at the rear camera monitor. Leif sprinted across the infield as the cop yelled at some kids, motioning with his arms for them to get back.
Stacy shouted from the back, “He’s on.”
Jeffrey looked to the monitor and saw the ramp closing. He lifted the gunship and cleared the old hills just as the ramp sealed, shutting out the blast of air and returning them to the quiet of the cockpit.
Stacy strapped herself back into the seat behind Jeffrey, and Leif leaned forward, patting Jeffrey on the shoulder with the palm of his hand.
“Hey dad, been up to much?” Leif’s blonde hair had gone nearly pure white in the Southern California sun and his face was tanned.
“Are you getting enough to eat?” Jeffrey asked.
Leif scowled at his father. “I’m not so much worried about that at this minute. What the hell is going on?”
“I’ll make you a deal,” Jeffrey said. “After you shut that transponder off, I’ll give you the whole story.”
“Consider it done. The IFF transponder control board is beside your foot controls, can you find a place to land so I can take it out?”
“I would prefer if we could keep going.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Leif said, and backed away. Jeffrey heard the muted clinking of a fabric tool bag being set on the deck, and then Leif–lying on his side–shoved himself between the seats and the bulkhead, the textured floor panels dragging on his Army t-shirt. He held a metal punch and a hammer.
Wedging his thin frame up beside the seats, Leif aimed the punch at the rivets on a small cover. Drawing the hammer back, Leif bumped Jeffrey’s leg. Jeffrey moved his legs out of the way. Leif punched out a rivet and then bumped the rudder pedal, and the gunship turned to the left. He shifted his weight and punched out another rivet, and another. With the last rivet still in place, he rotated the cover, exposing a hole with blinking green and orange lights deep inside. He reached elbow deep into the hole, and his shoulder twisted as he searched.
“If I pull the wrong board we fall out of the sky.”
“Maybe I should land.”
“No, I have it by feel. It’s a board with three large resistors and a… there.” Leif drew out his arm and opened his hand, exposing a circuit board the size of his palm.
A warning indicator appeared on the gunship’s proximity screen. Something was in range and coming in fast, over Mach 2. Jeffrey tapped the green-on-white screen to enlarge the area, and the point grew to three ships in formation. In a few moments they would be in weapons range.
“They found us,” Jeffrey said. “Hurry up.”
“It’s done,” Leif said, holding up the board.
“That’s it?” Stacy asked.
“The secret isn’t in how to disable the system, it’s where the board is.” Leif shimmied out of the space between the seat and the console. He leaned back over the seats and pointed at a monochrome screen that had various frequencies displayed on it. “You see that screen there? Just press the ‘silent’ link on it. That will shut off all civilian transmissions of position as well. You do that, and we disappear off the map.”
Jeffrey tapped the button, and the list of frequencies disappeared.
“What about the navigation system?” Jeffrey asked.
“When running silent, it goes passive, only taking in information from the satellites, not sending anything back out.”
“You and Stacy need to get back to the seats in the back where you can strap in fully, heads against the seat restraints as well,” Jeffrey said.
“I’m good here, Jeffrey,” Stacy said. “I can help you—”
“No,” Jeffrey said. “We don’t have any flight helmets, so you need to be fully strapped in. Only the seats in the back have head and arm straps.”
She stared at Jeffrey in the mirror for a moment.
Jeffrey said, “I don’t have time to–”
Stacy flipped her hand up in resignation. “Okay.”
…
As Stacy unstrapped herself from the navigator’s seat and followed Leif into the back, she felt angry at being sent off like a child. But she reminded herself that Jeffrey must have his reasons, so she tried to put her anger out of her mind. In the back, there were four seats on each side with full restraints. Green padded canvas covered the seats’ aluminum frames.
Leif and Stacy sat down and pulled the five-point harnesses on. Leif reached d
own and strapped his ankles to the lower seat frame and then pulled a head strap over his forehead and tightened it. Then he slipped his wrists through straps and thumbed a button. An electric motor whirred and the straps pulled snug. Stacy stared at him; she only had the five point harness on.
“Are you secure yet?” Jeffrey shouted from the cockpit.
“Almost,” Leif shouted back.
“We’re running out of time, hurry up. Let me know the minute you’re strapped down.”
Leif said to Stacy, “You need to strap down fully. When you pass out from the G’s your arms and head will flail around and you could break a wrist, or hit your head.”
“I don’t need to worry about blackouts. In training missions I held more G’s than anyone in my unit.”
“My dad didn’t tell you then?”
“Didn’t tell me what?”
“What he did in the war, who he was with?”
“No, he didn’t talk about it. I assume he flew something.”
Leif yelled up to the front, “Dad, how come you brag to me incessantly about being a Hammerhead, but no one else?”
“He was a HAMMERHEAD?” Stacy reached down and strapped her ankles down. “I thought all of the Hammerheads were dead.”
Jeffrey yelled from the cockpit, “Get those restraints on, now!”
Stacy pulled the strap over her forehead, slid her hands under the wrist straps, and thumbed the button. The straps pulled tight.
“We’re in,” she shouted out.
The ship pulled up hard. Stacy felt her body crush into the seat, and she growled and flexed her leg and stomach muscles to keep blood in her head. The ship pulled even harder, more than she had experienced in training. The pressure let off a bit, and then the ship fell to the right. Stacy thought back to her training in the centrifuge. She had given it everything that day, pushing herself to stay conscious. With her body smashing down into the centrifuge’s padded chair, she got a giddy feeling that she would never pass out, and then the color bled out of her vision, leaving everything shades of dull brown. A quiet tunnel collapsed on her and closed, and she fell into a far-off blackness. She could still hear the sounds of the centrifuge but from a distance, as if she were suspended in a lightless mass of cotton. The blackness had given way to an electric blue that swirled around her with sparks of bright-white light. Then the electricity went out of the blue, it dimmed to black, and she faded back into the decelerating centrifuge. She had pulled more G’s before blacking out than the other trainees, and she had a splitting headache for her efforts.
Hammerhead Page 6
