Awakening anw-2

by John O'Brien

  “But they had to open them to get inside in the first place,” Robert says. “They wouldn’t be alive if they couldn’t have gotten out. And they wouldn’t be in there if they got out and couldn’t open the doors to get back in.”

  Denton now joins the others with wider eyes. The ramifications are large and it was one of the things I worried about. At least we know now. But the ramifications could be even further reaching. Could they operate doors if they had turning handles? And if that’s the case, can they get inside the aircraft or any other place? They hadn’t in the nights we’ve been out on the ramp but we can’t put it past them to be able to, I think.

  “One thing for sure is that we won’t be able to positively tell if night runners are inside a structure by broken doors or glass anymore,” I say bending to pick up the chute again.

  We’ll have to tie the crew door shut and chain the rear ramp closed from here on out if we have to stay in an aircraft overnight. I make a mental note to include that in the briefing this afternoon. I want to plan the infil with Greg first. Then we’ll cover the drop itself and the plan for the next day with the others. The adrenaline is beginning to fade leaving me feeling like a limp noodle. It’s a long day of planning ahead followed by a long night. We drag our equipment back to the aircraft. Robert walks alongside carrying the helmets while I hump the rig.

  “Thanks for letting me go in,” Robert says.

  “What? Oh, uh, don’t thank me for something like that,” I say. “We go into a building with night runners and you thank me for not only letting you go in but for me taking you in. Somewhere down the line I’ve gone drastically awry with your upbringing. You should be kicking me in the ass for dragging your butt in there.”

  He smiles knowing I’m not serious. Well, not terribly serious. That was close though. Of course, anytime a night runner issues one of those shrieks, it’s too close. What kind of a dad am I that his son thanks him for taking him into such a place. I shake my head thinking over the times we’ve shared. Perhaps I shouldn’t have done half of the things with him that I have. Maybe that one time he collided with the corner of the door frame hard enough to imbed a paint chip in his forehead did something to him after all. I of course had nothing to do with said collision. Nope, not one little bit.

  “Are you really going to jump tonight?” He asks eyeing the chute hanging on my shoulder by one strap.

  “Yeah, I’m guessing so. Not really sure why at this particular moment in time as we walk across this fucking hot ramp but I guess I will,” I answer.

  “Aren’t you worried about it? I mean seeing it’s been a while,” he continues asking.

  “Let’s see. Out of date packing on the chute, at night over unfamiliar terrain hoping to not jump into a nest of night runners in the midst of a feeding frenzy, and if we do hit our mark, then again it’s into an unknown and a potential group of bad guys. That’s also assuming we hit our altitude right and I don’t bounce a mile back up. What’s to worry about?” I reply.

  “I’m just kidding,” I say seeing a stricken look cross his features. Sometimes my humor misses its mark widely. “I’m a little worried but not more so than any other time. If I wasn’t a little worried, then I’d be worried. Hey, if the spirits were going to take me, they’d have done so already. It’s not like I try to get them to open the door but I’ve also given them their chance a hundred times over. I’ll be fine.”

  “If you fear death and think about it all of the time trying to avoid it, it will come seeking you. It’s like playing sports or when we’d be off gallivanting in the hills, if you think about getting hurt and ease up trying not to get hurt, that’s when you do. It’s not that you can go seeking it either. If you keep your awareness about you and steer clear of stupidity, things work out. The hard part is determining between whether something is a valid risk or just stupidity,” I say continuing.

  “For some reason I know that, that you’ll be okay I mean, but that doesn’t alleviate the worry on my end. I just hope I do it right,” he says.

  “You’ll do just fine, Robert. I have all the confidence in the world in you,” I reply patting his shoulder to which he smiles.

  “And look, with regards to having you join me, the scales on the experience versus wanting to keep you safe swing each day. But I’m not going to be around forever. Yeah, I know, hard to believe huh?” I say with a smile. “So you have to learn how to lead and make the right decisions. Only experience can give you that. That and a good head on your shoulders but you already have that.”

  “But there are plenty of people to lead. Lynn, Drescoll, Gonzalez, Greg, lots of others,” Robert says as we draw near the open 130 ramp. We drop our gear but both know the conversation isn’t over for either of us. The teams walk wearily by up the ramp and into the aircraft. Robert and I sit in the shade with the massive tail looming above us. Bri walks up and sits with us listening.

  “True and they’re damn good at it too. Better than me if truth be told but here’s the thing and it may only be true for me. And this is only between you and me. I think the only reason I’m still around is because I’ve been allowed to lead in times past. I think if I’d had to follow all of the time, I wouldn’t have made if this far. Don’t ask me why because I don’t really know that one myself. I just know it,” I say. “There are times when I know when I have to do something alone because I don’t want the distraction of worrying about others; because I know the skills I have will be enough to see the task done. But there are also times when I know I need others and I want them and their individual skills and gifts. Each and every one has their own special gift which can save your life without you even knowing it. A team blends and becomes a single entity made up of all of those skills. That’s what a leader does and is, a person that is a catalyst that allows those skills to blend into one and the one others look for to make a decision. It sometimes doesn’t matter what the decision is as long as it appears it is the right one and makes sense; as long as a decision is made,” I say feeling winded but trying to impart what little wisdom I might possess. I might also just be adding a lot of hot air to an already warm day. Maybe I was the one who single-handedly brought on global warming just by talking. It’s possible.

  “It doesn’t matter what the decision is, just make one. Talk about it or think about it later, right?” He says with a smile. The smile is because that’s something I used to say to him a lot when he was younger and couldn’t make a decision. It’s good to know that some of what I’ve said in the past has been heard.

  “Exactly,” I reply.

  “Remember when I would stand in the candy bar aisle forever and couldn’t decide which one to get. You’d say, ‘Just pick one. If you get home and feel you wanted the other, well, then you’ll know next time right’,” he says.

  “Yeah, maybe I was a little hard on you sometimes. I just didn’t want to stand in that candy bar aisle forever and we would have. And you, young lass,” I say looking at Bri, “we did spend days with you trying to decide.” Bri smiles thinking back to those days.

  “I just don’t know how to become a leader like the others,” Robert says.

  “First of all, you already have. Or at least started,” I say. “You both have.”

  “How so?” Robert asked puzzled. Bri tilts her head to the side puzzled as well.

  “Well, who flew us here making decisions and delegating tasks? Who made the hard decisions on a pretty significant weather divert?” I ask rhetorically.

  “But that’s different,” Robert says.

  “My turn. How so?” I ask.

  “Because I knew how to fly it and get us here,” he answers.

  “Bingo. You knew how to do something and how to use the skills of others to get to a certain place,” I say. “It’s no different than leading in other circumstances. If you know something with some degree of intimacy, you can lead in it. That’s why I give you both the additional training, so you can learn how to do something. You need to think along those lines
when we’re training, that you’re learning something that you can lead others in. And you Bri, you know the systems and are teaching others and leading them. It’s all the same thing.”

  “But there are others who know how to do things and can’t lead. And some who the others don’t want to follow,” Bri says.

  “That’s very true. You have to have a degree of understanding others and what they’re going through. Every person is different.

  They have different experiences and ways of dealing with shit, and you have to find out how they respond effectively. You have to show that you have a measure of compassion without it interfering with your task. Sometimes you have to tell people to just suck it up. You’re their leader, not their best friend. The bottom line, however, is if people believe you will get them through a situation, they’ll follow you through it. Show you care about them at the same time and they’ll follow you anywhere,” I reply.

  “Makes sense,” Robert says. “How do you learn that though?”

  “Study people and watch their reactions to different things. And don’t ever fake compassion or understanding. People, especially soldiers, will see through that in a heartbeat. Always be yourself. The other thing with regards to leading is always study past actions in your head. Study mistakes and the things done right. Analyze every detail and think how you could or would have done it differently. Think up scenarios, not matter how wild or crazy, and think your way through it. If you come to an impasse, back up and rethink it. Throw odd shit in on the fly and think about how to take care of it. Think on it until your response becomes instinctual because there are many times you won’t get to think it through, you’ll only have time to react,” I say. The both sit quietly with the gears turning in their heads. Heat waves shimmer in the distance turning the end of the runway and the buildings beyond into a blur.

  “One last thing, no matter how right you do things, you may lose people. That’s just a fact. You can’t account for every variable. That doesn’t mean you did it wrong. Although you may feel bad, it doesn’t always mean you did something wrong. Analyze it as with anything else but move on. If you think too much about one life that is lost, you’ll forget about those who are still living,” I add watching the shimmers dance. “Don’t forget, just forgive.”

  “Lynn always says that you’re too hard on yourself and blame yourself when we’ve lost people in the past,” Bri says.

  “She told you that?” I ask.

  “No, I’ve just heard her talking to herself when she didn’t know I was around,” Bri answers.

  “Well, you take my advice on this one because I obviously have no use for it,” I reply.

  “Haha, very funny, Dad,” Bri says.

  “Hey, they can’t all be gems,” I say.

  “And in your case, none of them can,” Greg says. We all turn to see him standing at the top of the ramp.

  “Don’t you have a hole you have to go fall in?” I say waving him beside us.

  “See, your proving my point,” he says walking down and sitting.

  “You good?” I ask Robert.

  “I’m good,” he answers.

  “Are you up for talking about things and planning some?” I ask Greg.

  “Anytime,” he answers.

  “Okay, I want you to play devil’s advocate to a degree and let’s talk our way through this, especially the jump,” I say.

  “No worries on that as I’m already a little leery of it,” Greg says.

  “We have a waxing moon past half so if it remains clear, we should have some light to guide us,” I say beginning. “So let’s look at that for starters.”

  “Day versus night?” I ask.

  “Well, day is better to jump for obvious reasons. We can guide in better and allow for any alterations earlier but we can be seen and they may even notice the aircraft overhead. Night is riskier, again for obvious reasons, but they will most likely be inside and won’t see either us or the aircraft. Plus, if they are inside, any aircraft noise will be hidden. Not like they can hear one that high anyway,” Greg answers.

  “How about a sunset drop?” I ask.

  “Not as risky as a night drop but there is the chance of being seen. If timed right though, they should be inside although we don’t know their habits being walled up like that. They may hang outside until later,” he says.

  “Is it worth the added risk of being seen?”

  “I’m not sure about that one,” Greg answers.

  “Well, the thing I’m thinking about with that one is that Robert, and I’m sure Craig, hasn’t conducted a night landing in the 130, especially with NVG’s. They’ll have to if we drop at night. That means we’ll have to practice those tonight and drop the next day if we decide on a night drop,” I say.

  “That’s one of the things I was worried about,” Robert chimes in.

  “Alright, let’s table that and come back to it,” I say. “How do you feel about the HALO jump itself?”

  “Not good to be honest. We could deploy at a high altitude and glide in although that would mean oxygen and I’m not really a fan of going back in there,” Greg answers pointing to the small building we exited not too long ago.

  “Plus, we’ll have to add some warmer clothing,” I say. “There is also the fact that we won’t be able to see the ground if there isn’t enough lighting or there’s a cloud cover. I’d hate to steer half way over the country and come up short. If we had reliable GPS equipment, okay, but that option isn’t really available. We could deploy at a higher altitude rather than the normal 2,500 feet. That would give us some margin for error,” I say.

  “I like the idea. What are you thinking then?” Greg asks.

  “Well, say at around 3,000 feet above the ground,” I answer. “We won’t be able to see the ground at that point and will be at the mercy of the winds to a greater extent. And our accuracy falls with each foot higher above the ground we deploy.”

  “What about a lower drop altitude?” Robert asks.

  “We could but the 130 is a noisy machine and not only heard from a long ways off, but felt as well,” I answer.

  “How easy is it to program the drop point?” Greg asks. “I was thinking we could make a determination of the deployment altitude based on the visibility over the target.”

  “Not very really. It can be done enroute but that takes time and the decision would have to be made early in the flight,” I answer. “If we decide on a sunset drop, we can determine the altitude before we leave.”

  “Are we leaving from here or Canon?”

  “I was thinking from here and then land at Canon. If we drop at sunset, that will give Robert time to get back with some light left as it is only 100 miles away,” I answer.

  “So, you’re leaning toward a sunset drop?” Greg asks.

  “The more I think about it, the more I like the idea. We have light to correct and Robert has light to land. We don’t know the winds, although we’ll be able to know what they are at altitude, and I just don’t want to deploy and find we are going to land outside of the walls. That thought does not give me warm and fuzzy feelings,” I answer.

  “So, a sunset drop then. With a low or mid chute deployment?”

  “Low deployment unless we see we are far off target. We’ll each have to make our own determination on that. If we do notice we’ve been spotted, we’ll make for the compound we spotted to the south and hole up behind those walls. Provided we have the altitude for it,” I reply. Greg nods.

  “So, we’re at 5,355 feet here according to the charts. Lubbock is around 3,256 feet. Because we don’t know the pressure changes, let’s plan for a 3,000 foot chute deployment. If we zero out the wrist altimeters here, we should deploy at 1,000 feet on the dial over Lubbock,” I continue.

  Greg gives me a funny look before asking, “How good were you at math in school?”

  “Pretty good,” I answer.

  “Okay, 1,000 on the dial it is,” he responds.

  “So what do you think? Make for
a landing on the large central building?” I ask.

  “I think so. That’s the only place we found a possible way in. Other than the ground level doors,” he says.

  “I’m thinking they are holed up in one of the wings. Possibly with a group in one of the buildings and the prisoners, assuming that’s what they are, in the other. I don’t think they would actually separate themselves in the other wing. It’s too far away,” I say.

  “I agree, but which one. There are two of them and it’ll be a challenge getting to just one I think,” Greg says.

  “Let’s get Jim in on this,” I say. Greg rises and returns with Jim.

  “Where do you think they would be holing up?” I ask Jim pointing to the star-shaped wings.

  “I honestly wouldn’t know. They are identical inside and have their own kitchens, open rooms, eating and shower facilities,” Jim answers.

  “Well, the east wing is closer to what appears to be the loading dock where their vehicles are parked. That’s what I’d choose,” I say studying the map we drew.

  “Good point. We’ll head that way then,” Greg says.

  “So, if they have the generator going, I’m assuming that will mean the door locks are still engaged throughout the facility, right?” I ask Jim.

  “Yep. All of the doors, emergency lighting, alarm systems, and bare kitchen facilities operate off emergency power,” Jim answers.

  “How are you going to get through the doors?” Bri asks.

  That one is a stumper and I’ve wrestled with it in my mind for some time. I have C-4 but that will make a lot of noise. I know that heat can demagnify a magnet, and therefore the magnetic locks, but that requires a significant amount of heat and how do you do that to the side of a closed door. I have even visualized finding a blow torch in a maintenance department there but that is a bit unreal. The best thing I have come up with is taking down one of the guards and relieving them of their card. I’m assuming they have them in order to be able to freely move about.