Текст книги "The Battle for New York"
Автор книги: T. I. Wade
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 28 страниц)
Apart from the several fires burning up and down I-20, the area was getting dark beneath her.
“Come on girl, let’s go home,” advised Sally. “I don’t think they’re going anywhere tonight, and if they are I believe they are in for a nasty surprise. The boys are heavily loaded with everything they could carry. I have you on visual about a mile to my south.”
They moved into formation and flew home silently, Sally letting Martie alone as she worked through the ramifications of her action. Men had died down there, even if they were the enemy. Either she was made for this type of work, or she wasn’t. Sally knew her friend well and believed that Martie was a fighter—a good person to have around in times of need—but left her alone to her own realizations. The end of the fifth day of the new world looked like there could be hope.
Chapter 9
China
The board room on the 30th floor of Zedong Electronics in Nanjing was busy, and there was mixed feelings of excitement, apprehension, and dread. The 16 men were getting ready to tour Shanghai’s International Airport and then go on to the harbor. They had just finished an early breakfast and the bus was ready for them downstairs. It was 5:00 am, early on the morning of the seventh day in Shanghai and thirteen hours ahead of East Coast time in the United States. The first of the Boeing 747s would be taking off for its nonstop flight into John F. Kennedy Airport later that morning, which in a few weeks would be renamed Guomindang International Airport.
Chairman Wang Chunqiao raised his hands, and everyone took their seats. The room was cleared except for the 16 men sitting around the boardroom.
“Comrades, we have achieved something nobody in the world has ever achieved—the control of every living man, woman and child in the western world!” The men in the room applauded this statement.
“To remember the words of our great leader, Mao Zedong, ‘If the worst came to the worst and half of mankind died, the other half would remain, while imperialism would be razed to the ground, and the whole world would become socialist; in a number of years there would be 2.7 billion people again and definitely more.’ Comrades, I believe we are carrying out and completing his legacy, and whomever must die in this transfer of power from world capitalism to world communism will be replaced by our own breed of people. The most powerful influence in my life was my training, and much of your training, by our leader’s great wife, Jiang Qing. As you know, our success will be the ideas of controlling the world that I learned from her teachings for 15 years. Her vision was a world full of people where everybody was equal and worked for the state. Now, the remaining 2.7 billion people will work for us. They will work for her, and they will work for the world’s greatest leader, Mao Zedong, and the original Guomindang Communist Party. We are its 16 leaders. We are the Politburo of the future. Tomorrow, we leave our country of birth and with 4,000 of our Red Guards, go forth and carry on ‘The Great Leap Forward’ and multiply and complete the ‘cultural revolution’ our beloved leader began over 50 years ago. As my father, Zhang Chunqiao, believed, the Cultural Revolution created in 1966 was designed as a necessity for world maintenance and the survival of our species on this planet. The capitalistic system of greed followed by every person in the western world does not work. Human freedom does not work, could never work, and will only lead to the end of human civilization. Now it is our turn, and we will rule every man, woman, and child in a state of perfection, where they are the worker bees of life, all equal, and they will live and die to make our world the greatest in history.”
He was given a standing ovation as he stood there. It had taken him 40 years of work to start his crusade to cure humanity of greed and place everyone in their rightful position, and he knew that nothing could stop them now. He had three close allies—family members on the board from the most powerful force in China a half century ago—and his father’s wish to him was to keep the “Gang of Four” alive, take over China and the world, and to prove that they were the rightful leaders of the modern world.
They were leaving Headquarters for the beginning of their two week journey to New York harbor. This was the last time they would see their boardroom for a couple of years, maybe even longer. The 15 men were asked to stand up, each man wearing the same uniform of the new Politburo—the same clothes Mao Zedong wore most of his life. They were asked to stand in a line facing their chairman and each member was presented with two gold encrusted red books, the size of a postage stamp, to wear on their lapels to show their status in the world as a member of the new Zedong Politburo. They left the boardroom for the last time for their departure transfer from the Zedong Electronics building to their final destination: Shanghai Harbor, 170 miles away.
The chairman returned to his private office, which took up the entire 20th floor of the second building next door. As usual, he was followed by the 12 security guards and the engineer carrying the special packet and equipment, and the consul with the five special red buttons. He looked around for the last time. It was totally empty. All the furniture and priceless Chinese artifacts worth millions of dollars had been packed and placed aboard one of the container ships, taking up an entire, specially-made armored steel container to be unloaded in his new office in the White House—the Oval Office.
Each man had been given a set of two pieces of red leather travel luggage and these, with their silver suitcases were already placed in the lower hold of an extremely modern bus, fully armored-plated, with 16 rich, thick, reclining leather chairs.
Once all were aboard, the bus left the Zedong Electronics buildings with every one of the men looking at the two largest buildings in the area—one 30 stories high and the second newer building added in 2005, 20 stories high, where they had their suites of offices on the top 16 floors. It was the last time they would see their old place of work for a long time. Their new offices would be the Capitol Building in Washington, D.C.
The trip to the Shanghai airport from Nanjing took three hours. A dozen Red Guard motorcycles, the riders dressed in their red parade uniforms, rode in front and behind. It was a site to see as the bus, still with its motorcade drove into the airport. The airport road was thronged with Red Army Guards waving little red Mao Zedong flags. They drove into the airport and in front of them were the fleet of 30 shining new Air China 747ERs standing in three rows, and then off to one side were five of the biggest passenger aircraft in the world—Air China Airbus A380s—which had been delivered over the last two years. The chairman had done his math well. The first payments to Airbus Industries were due to begin on February 1st.
Zedong Electronics had not paid one Yuan for more than $10 billion Yuan worth of aircraft. Twenty-five of the newest Boeing 747-400ERs had been delivered over the last five years and less than $100 million Yuan had been paid for them, less than the cost of just one aircraft.
A large wooden seating platform had been placed with a grand view of all the aircraft for the occasion. The chairman climbed up the stairs to face the beautiful birds.
“Comrades, I stand between our two brave pilot teams who will take-off in one hour and be the pilots leading our first attack on mainland America,” the chairman continued standing between two groups of three men who had been the lucky ones to get the job. All six pilots stood at attention and looked straight ahead. They never looked at the chairman once, since they were too low in rank to even be seen looking at him.
“The first aircraft in our front line is the aircraft that will invade American airspace first. Over a certain country outside of the United States, the position of which only I know, she will meet up with her sister aircraft, the 747 transporter. At this moment the transporter, which at another location, is ready and holds the five million working electronic parts and spares ready to get New York’s airports and harbor infrastructure up and running. We will start by bringing the three New York airports and the complete harbor facilities back online with generator power so that we can take control of New York and start distributing food to our new citizens.”
“Down there,” he pointed to a group wearing white coats, “are 100 of our best Zedong electrical engineers. They are ready for the task of electrifying our new country and working hard to make her come alive again. To the right of them are 200 of our elite Mao Red Guards, who will protect our engineers from any old-world Americans who try to upset our plans.”
“Once these personnel have been deposited in New York, the aircraft will return here and all of our aircraft will leave 36 hours before our planned arrival in New York. The 20,000 troops they carry will be placed into position around the harbor and on the bridges, greeting our arrival into New York Harbor. They have 24 hours to terminate any opposition and then give us ground protection against any form of resistance from American military. Our aircraft will be refueled by our engineers and again return here to Shanghai to collect our second load of 20,000 Red Guards who will arrive as we arrive under the Verrazano Narrows Bridge into New York Harbor. With another 4,000 Red Guards aboard our naval and container ships, we will have a mighty force of over 40,000 soldiers to extinguish any capitalistic flames in America.” He paused for the applause.
“Five days after we arrive, a third flight of 20,000 Red Guard Marines will land in Washington D.C. and will be met by us personally at Ronald Reagan International Airport.” Again applause interrupted his speech.
“Two weeks from then, two more flights of 20,000 troops will be flown into Los Angeles International Airport, as well as another 4,000 troops on our naval vessels and container ships. Gentlemen, within a month, we will have a glorious Red Guard Army of over 110,000 men on American soil, all ready to populate the country with children from the remaining women of our new country.” There was another enthusiastic round of applause from the massive audience of 15,000 men listening.
“It now gives me great honor to rename this airport in the name of my father, who was one of the most prominent people in China. Comrades, I now dedicate this airport, which will henceforth be called the “Comrade Zhaung Chunqiao International Airport.”
Again, there was a loud ovation from the thousands of men who applauded the new name. The chairman shook hands with the six pilots, as the men below in long rows began to board the first aircraft through tall mobile stairs, each engineer waving to the platform as they entered through one of the three doors. Then, the 200 soldiers walked up the stairs, and 20 minutes later, the stairs were pulled away and the whine of Rolls Royce aircraft engines could be heard. Nobody moved. A tractor pulled the large aircraft around and out to the taxiway, making sure that the blast of the engines did not hit the platform.
The large aircraft taxied around to the main runway and with its engines screaming, the large 747 began to move faster and faster. It took a long time, but finally the aircraft could be seen a mile away climbing into the air for its long trip to John F. Kennedy Airport, 7,370 miles away. The 16 dignitaries walked back to the bus, got in, and were driven to the harbor area.
Shanghai Harbor was a massive metropolis of cranes and ships, but was dwarfed by the collection of shipping that had congregated from different ports along the Chinese coast just the night before. There again, thousands of the new and officially dressed Red Guards were on parade everywhere, in red with gold-edged military uniforms designed for parades. They were armed and all male. The bus swept into the main harbor area, and there were gasps of surprise from the men in the bus at their first sight of the new Zedong Navy.
The pride and joy of the new Navy was berthed in the most central location—its new aircraft carrier, the ‘Shi Lang’ with the number 83 on both sides of its hull and on the coning tower. Next to her were two modern destroyers, and next to them were two recently completed long-range frigates. On the other side of the harbor were five massive container ships, the biggest in the world, laden down with cargo and smoke already rising from their towers.
A second observation platform had been especially built for the occasion on the edge of the harbor, and the 16 men mounted the platform. The platform was again surrounded by thousands of parade-dressed guards and a speaker’s podium had been placed in the middle where the speaker would have his back to the awesome sight of the naval power of Zedong Electronics. The chairman headed towards the podium as the other men took their seats.
Comrade Mo Wang was shaken away from the awe of the view by his cell phone buzzing in his pocket. “Yes, Fung,” he stated abruptly into the satellite phone.
“Comrade, I have the latest reports for you,” stated the head-of-communications on the 29th floor of the building they had just left. “Report from the American airport: our men are at the airport and halfway to completing the clearance of the runway. They report no problems. The airport is totally empty of Americans. There are no American troops anywhere to be seen and they said that they have the two fuel pumpers and necessary equipment ready for refueling operation. The engineers are needed to start up the electrical systems and the two aircraft should be back in the air to Shanghai once the engineers have replaced the electrical fuel pump’s components. They believe there will be 33 plug-in electrical replacements.”
“Yes, yes, I know that, Fung. The two aircraft are on their way. It should take the engineers an hour to get the fuel pumps to activate the flow of fuel to the aircraft once they land. What else? I’m busy.”
“Report from Comrade Deng. They have arrived in the state of Alabama and are proceeding two hours ahead of schedule. They are expecting to meet up with Comrade Bo Lee Tang within 24 hours and complete their attack on the Raleigh airport, and then will immediately travel north. Do you have any orders for the other squads? You told me to remind you—to tell you about moving everyone towards New York.”
“I remember, Fung,” Wang replied. “Tell all squads to begin moving towards the New York airport called JFK and to report in at headquarters. They must not arrive until the morning of Day Eight. That will allow our Red Army troops to set up their control base and be ready for our squads to arrive.”
Comrade Wang suddenly realized that the chairman, the admiral of the Zedong fleet, another five high-ranking naval officers, and every one of the 14 other men were staring at him. The chairman looked rather angry at Mo Wang for ruining his special moment.
“Comrade Wang, your conversation was important enough to hold up our navy’s christening occasion?” the chairman asked sarcastically.
“My humble apologies, Comrade Chairman,” replied Comrade Wang, bravely. He was nervous enough to let his phone slip through his fingers and it bounced onto the hard wooden platform. He left it there hoping nobody had noticed the drop. “Unfortunately, I must be in contact with the operations in America at all times, Comrade Chairman. Without our satellite global positioning systems or our satellite communications and directional aids working on our aircraft, I must be informed about weather and runway conditions at all times. Once our aircraft take off and reach a certain point, there is no returning, Comrade Chairman. Good news though, the weather is good and the runway is half cleared, perfectly on schedule.”
“Relax Comrade Wang, you are worrying too much. Nobody can thwart our attack. Look at what we have to fight with against anything they could possibly find to fly or shoot,” he stated, lifting his right hand into the air and turning towards the magnificent scene in the harbor.
Mo Wang’s insulting action was quickly forgotten by the rest, and he quickly picked up the phone and put it in his pocket without checking it.
“Comrades,” began the chairman. “I give you Admiral Hun, the commander of our navy. He will explain each ship to you. Admiral Hun, please.”
“Comrade Chairman, glorious members of the Zedong Politburo, fellow naval personnel, I am honored today to present you the most powerful navy in the world—The Zedong Navy.” This was greeted by standing and enthusiastic applause from everybody on the platform.
“May I introduce to you our greatest naval asset, the Shi Lang, the only operating aircraft carrier in the world!” The applause continued. “The Shi Lang has a crew of 2,500 and 30 J-10 fighter aircraft especially adapted for her. She is the largest military vessel, which can actually pass through the Panama Canal with inches to spare. The aircraft landed on the Shi Lang for the first time yesterday, and our pilots will practice while we are sailing toward the Panama Canal and then into New York. Naturally, without our global positioning systems and satellite directional radar infrastructures, many of our weapons are not as accurate and their success ranges are limited, but against the United States of America, who has nothing, we are a very potent force.”
“Next, are our two ultramodern Type 052C destroyers—numbers 170 and 171. They are the best the world offers, fully armed for air and sea attacks, and our main defense for the Shi Lang. Third, our two modern Type 054 frigates—numbers 572 and 573. Both were launched less than six months ago and are the most modern frigates in the world. They have the same capabilities as the destroyers and are completely invincible against sea or air attacks. Here are our captains from each vessel, who are directly under my command,” the admiral introduced, pointing to the five men standing behind him.
“May I introduce you to five of the largest and most modern container ships in the world. We own ten of these new ships and these five are named ‘Xin New York I’ to ‘Xin New York V,’ and all are destined for New York Harbor. The other five super ships, still being loaded in other harbors are ‘Xin Los Angeles I to V’ and will leave two weeks after us and head for Los Angles. Two weeks will be adequate time for our naval fleet to escort the container ships into New York, and then return through our Panama Canal to meet up with the next five ships in the middle of the Pacific and escort them into the western capital of our new country. We have two military resupply ships already a day out from Shanghai, and they will be ready to refuel our military ships once they get through the Panama Canal. Comrades, I thank you for listening.”
The chairman regained the podium as the admiral received loud applause. He continued by giving a short speech on how he was looking forward to the start of the journey and each of the Politburo members would each have a specially built stateroom aboard the Shi Lang. He nodded to the band, which started with the Zedong Electronics National Anthem—the Chinese National Anthem from the days of Mao Zedong.
There was silence as they gazed upon the view.
It was a beautiful sight and they would be staying aboard the Shi Lang that very night, but first it was off to a restaurant for lunch and then a tour of the docks on a tug boat to view all ten ships. The suitcases were already on their way to the ship, and the bus had already left to return to Zedong Electronics’ headquarters.
Chapter 10
Flight to Alaska
Several hours before the men of the Politburo were getting ready for breakfast on Z-Day 6, U.S. time, General Allen was snoozing in Ghost Rider at 29,000 feet and cruising at 275 miles an hour. The light was going to fade pretty soon and he needed help, and Carlos would need daylight to get a fix on the whereabouts of Anchorage compared to Ghost Rider’s current position. Apart from the two pilots in control, the large crews on both 130s were trying to catch some shut-eye.
The HC-130 tanker was off their starboard wing, about 800 yards away; they were over the ocean and about 200 miles offshore of Juneau when Pete Allen called Carlos. The phone rang three times before Carlos answered.
“Carlos? Pete here. I need to get a fix on where we are in relation to our destination.”
“I’m in front of the screen,” replied Carlos. “Let me just look at my map of your area and I’ll be ready. Okay Pete, turn on your transponder.” The two C-130s both turned on their transponders and Carlos saw a small flicker of light plus a number 1 and 2 next to it. “It looks like you are about 60 miles east-south-east of a vertical line south of your destination. I’m getting out my compass and protractor. Hold on a second, and I’ll give you an angle.”
“We must have easterly winds at about 20 then, as we have been on this course now for three hours,” Pete told the crew with him, as they were doing the same as Carlos was—looking over maps with calculators and protractors getting angles. They waited for Carlos to give them a basic longitude and latitude, as well as a flight-angle to head towards Anchorage.
“OK turn your transponders off,” instructed Carlos, giving them longitude and latitude. “Your angle into Anchorage allowing for a 20-knot easterly wind is 319 degrees.”
“Thank you, Carlos. We are about 500 miles from our destination. Two hours of flying and we’ll be on the ground. We will call you again on our way into Japan in about 14 hours. Out.”
They were about 400 miles out from Elmendorf Air Base when the radio operator managed to get into contact with the base.
“Elmendorf, this is Ghost Rider. Do you copy? Over.”
“You are who?” was the confused reply over the radio. “Are you allowed on this frequency, whoever you are?”
“Roger that,” replied Pete. “We are incoming from McChord, two aircraft, name is Allen Key. Get your base commander on the radio. Over.”
“He’s gone fishing,” was the reply.
“How do you have a working radio?” asked General Allen.
“We borrowed one from a local trucking company and have kept it on the Air Force emergency signal,” was the reply. “Who are you anyway?”
“Have you got fuel and a clear runway for two Charlie-130s?” the general asked.
“I’m not telling you that, whoever you are, until you give me some I.D., Mr. Allen Key. You could be a logger aircraft for all I know.”
“Do you have the blue Air Force book of personnel call signs, radio operator?”
“Roger that, Allen Key, pulling it off the shelf now. What page are you on?”
“Page 1, and look for Allen Key,” replied the general smiling. Alaska was a different world.
“Shit! Shit! Roger, Allen Key. The only aircraft we have operational here is an old 130, ‘Blue Moon, and a couple of helicopters from before I was born, sir,” the radio operator replied.
“Why is Blue Moon with you?”
“She was incoming from Osan via Misawa with a tanker about six months ago when her outer-right engine went down. It’s taken a year to get her reconditioned engine up here and fitted. They finished just before Christmas and she’s waiting for orders.”
“Confirm she is still fully equipped. Over.” asked the General.
“Affirmative, she’s bristling with whatever you want Allen Key.”
“How is your heating situation on base?” was Allen’s next question.
“We have a dozen logging companies around here, enough gas for our gas heaters for about a month, and enough wood for the indoor fireplaces for forever. MRE food stocks are down to three to four months, tons of salmon, and we are doing okay, Allen Key.”
“How are the locals doing?”
“I’d hate to see what’s happening stateside, but we are ready for such emergencies up here,” the radio operator replied. “All civilian houses have some form of wood burning back-up, we can never run out of wood, and we can always eat the polar bears when we get hungry. Hell, I’ve had grilled salmon five nights in a row and would love a burger right now. We have about a ton of frozen salmon on base if you want some.”
“Please give orders to fuel up Blue Moon for me,” continued the general. “Make sure her tanks are filled to the extreme max. She will be coming with me. Also make sure there are two sets of pilots ready to fly her. We are about an hour out and need fuel ourselves.”
“Roger. Runway 34 clear and dry, wind from the north five to ten, temperature minus 21. Radio me and I’ll get the lights on for you. Do you want a welcoming committee, Allen Key?”
“I’ll radio in for high flares when we are closer. Actually, young man, get about two dozen salmon on that grill of yours and I’ll swap you for a couple of cases of frozen burgers, rolls, and cheese so that you can have your cheeseburgers. Out.”
They went in directly from the south onto Runway 34. They were still 20 miles off course to the east when the flares went off and could be faintly seen on the dark horizon through the left cockpit windows.
The weather was cold and brittle as the door opened, and they were surrounded by thick-coated personnel to refuel both aircraft. Blue Moon, three months younger than Ghost Rider, was in the same shape, with the same guns. She was expected to be on show at Andrews and hopefully at the Washington Aerospace Museum, if the funding for the new Air Force museum building complex ever went through.
At least five of the aircraft he had currently flying had been destined for this new complex—to have a display of still-operational Vietnam War-era aircraft. General Allen had been waiting for government funding for three years, but it had never been granted. The display would have been great. He had designed a showing of two F-4s attacking ground units, a third F4 on the ground being rearmed and refueled, and two Hueys being refueled by the HC-130 tanker, which was now flying with him, and Ghost Rider and Blue Moon being air refueled by Mother Goose also at the same time.
A squad of 30 soldiers was in formation as a welcoming guard, and he introduced himself to them as well as the radio operator– a young airman that was six foot ten inches tall and weighed in at a muscular 300 pounds.
“You say the base commander has gone fishing?” the general asked the airman.
“We are looking at all possible ways to feed the 1,200 personnel on base, sir,” the airman replied. “We have food supplies for a couple of months, or until we are resupplied, but it looks like this outage is everywhere. We’ve had no traffic in or out for six days, sir. Is this problem country-wide, sir?”
“World-wide, son,” replied the General. “You guys are on your own until we can get supplies up to you, which will be closer to spring. So tell the colonel that he may go fishing as much as he wants, but he needs to have this base on lockdown until further notice. We believe the Chinese are to blame for this electrical meltdown, and I will know more in a couple of days. I have a satellite cell phone for you with the number for Colonel Mondale at Edwards AFB, who will be your only contact until further notice. You are to call him with a sitrep every 24 hours starting two days from now. Unfortunately, Edwards hasn’t received their cell phone yet. I’ll give you my number in case you need to contact someone before then, and if you see the red number that is listed on the back of the phone come up on the screen, do not answer it under any conditions. That number is the enemy, and they are going to want to speak Chinese and ask you where you got the phone from, understand?” The airman nodded.
“Does Blue Moon still have her fuel bladder?” General Allen asked the tech sergeant who had come up to give him a report.
“Yes, sir. She has both her 1,250 gallon bladders from her flight in here,” he replied, saluting. “We have filled her tanks and both bladders for you. She cannot take any cargo or ammo, she would be overweight, and her bladders will give you 1,000 miles at low cruise each. With your tanker being refueled now, General, she has a range of over 4,400 miles and can deliver 3,000 gallons of fuel. You will need 2,500 gallons to get Ghost Rider into Misawa and you’ll have 500 gallons spare, or 45 minutes of extra flying time. Since both aircraft can be refueled at the same time, your engineer can also pump out another 500 gallons from the tanker’s own tanks in yours and increase your fuel reserves to 1,000 gallons.”
“You are exactly correct with your numbers, Sergeant, well done, and we need that extra fuel. We must allow an extra degree or two for wind diversion during our flight,” replied the general. “We will fully arm ourselves once we reach Osan or Kunshan in Korea tomorrow afternoon.”
“One more thing, General,” said the sergeant. “If you don’t have GPS or any modern directional systems aboard, how are you going to find land?”
“We have the infrared locators in the gunships to view islands below us, and as long as the weather is clear, we have a friend back stateside who can give us limited directions. Other than that, Sergeant, we are going to need a lot of flying expertise, and maybe every gallon of gas you pump into us.”
General Allen handed the phone and battery charger to the airman and asked for his dinner of grilled salmon. They ate large portions of salmon and mashed potatoes in the Officers Mess while the aircraft were still being refueled. He also told the ground crew to unload the pallet in the rear of Ghost Rider that contained the hamburgers and frozen rolls and ordered the personnel to load up a pallet of frozen salmon in case the Air Force personnel in Japan needed supplies.
Two hours later, the three aircraft, heavily laden with fuel, took off on their 3,100 mile nonstop trip to Misawa Air Force Base in northern Japan, 12 hours away.
Chapter 11
JFK – Major Joe Patterson
The sun was just rising off the East Coast of the United States as the two specks in the distant horizon slowly grew larger and larger. The first aircraft came in, and Major Patterson saw that it was a modern 747-400ER. It came in slowly, and the Chinese-American pilot, Captain Wong, gave the incoming pilot the information he needed to land. As it touched down, 20 Air Force men and the two Chinese American pilots all wearing the recently acquired clothing and radios went out to show that they had control of the landing area.