Текст книги "The Battle for New York"

Автор книги: T. I. Wade

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Текущая страница: 26 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

The harbor area and coastline around New York Harbor looked untouched. The heavy snow helped to hide the 53 155mm howitzers. Three more had arrived from a New York Army base and the 40 105mm howitzers placed on either side of the entranceway, were camouflaged, and with the fresh snow, now invisible to any shipping arriving under the Verrazano Narrows Bridge.

Another 40 105mm howitzers had been placed on five large river barges, pulled by two working tugboats into the area a mile in from the bridge, tied together and placed horizontally to look like an island.

Every gun had been camouflaged, and two of the now three destroyers had entered New York Harbor sailing under the bridge, and their lookouts with powerful binoculars could not see one gun placement.

In addition to the howitzers, there were well over 100 large mortar teams in placements around the area—several on and around the area of the bridge that were not expected to fall if the middle span was detonated. Several of the Mutts, jeeps, and even other vehicles had been placed on the roofs of buildings nearby, loaded with armor-piercing rockets that hopefully would be accurate enough to knock out any smaller guns aboard the ships.

Colonel Patterson was told by Colonel Grady that even if the biggest guns could not get through the modern hardened armor of the ships, they certainly could destroy the upper infrastructure of the warships if they concentrated on those areas. Fifty anti-aircraft cannons had been placed slightly further out from the shorelines, and their main task was to protect the bigger guns from the air. The Chinese fighters would have to go through a wall of flying steel to destroy the bigger guns, as the satellite-guided munitions under their wings would be useless in this fight. They had lost all of their guidance systems, since Lee and Carlos now controlled the satellites.

Vice Admiral Rogers had his only three old submarines tied up at the old wharf by Battery Weed, less than 1,000 feet inside the harbor from the Verrazano Narrows Bridge. They were to dive and sit close to the harbor floor at about 50 feet, and literally send as many torpedoes as possible in the direction of the aircraft carrier once it entered the kill zone and then aim for the rest of the military ships.

The three submarines had simple wire-guided torpedoes that were 30 years old, but they could still pack a punch and sink a ship, especially an aircraft carrier built in the Ukraine. The vice admiral reckoned that at least 18 to 24 torpedoes could be launched before the submarines were taken out and hopefully only by the fighters, but at 50 feet in murky waters, they would be totally invisible from the air. The Navy had worked out a system of aiming the torpedoes from a command center above the submarines on the battery, since the submarines would be firing blind.

Two of the destroyers were hidden from view at the Staten Island ferry terminal, and they would be positioned behind larger ships where they could sneak out and attack anything coming deeper into the harbor.

The older destroyers didn’t stand a chance against the more modern Chinese ships, but they could get off several shots if they fired first, and the closeness of the battle would guarantee hits on the foreign vessels. The third destroyer was hidden behind the back end of Manhattan Beach Park, and once the attacking ships entered under the bridge it would sail at full speed behind them to close off the entrance and take up her battle stations from outside the harbor bridge.

*****

Carlos wasn’t working with Lee much anymore. Both Maggie and Buck had joined Lee in his place, both as good and knowledgeable as Carlos in the software field of electronics. Maggie was now Lee’s assistant, and Buck was helping most of the time since he wasn’t flying Air Force One around. The president had been told to stay home, stay away from the war. This arena was for soldiers, not politicians.

Barbara worked long hours flying Lady Dandy, often with the help of Martie or Preston when they had spare time at night, and she helped ferry in soldiers, ammo, projectiles, and mortars from the surrounding Army and Marine bases as the bases received phones for communication and the commanders could give a list of what their armories had.

The snowstorm had given everybody a good two days of rest, something they were all desperate for, and now they were a little behind in setting up the circus of all circuses—The Invasion of the USA.

*****

“I see them! I have found the ships!” Lee Wang ran out on the 19th day of January, three days before the assumed day of attack. Carlos, Preston and several others ran into the communications building at McGuire to see what Lee was so excited about. There they were, the minute dots that could barely be seen by the naked eye, 500 miles offshore just south of Jacksonville, Florida. The ten specks were steaming in a direction which would bring them straight into New York Harbor.

Lee, with Carlos’s permission, had moved Navistar P’s orbit from the central USA and had positioned the satellite directly above Birmingham, Alabama. He had also brought the satellite’s orbit above earth down by 100 miles to get a wider and closer viewing range, and now they could see the ten dots with small wakes behind them as they sailed into the Atlantic area.

The ships couldn’t be seen on the Chinese satellite feed and the satellites hadn’t been touched in case the enemy might be alerted by the movement. Lee didn’t think that the enemy actually knew they didn’t have control of the satellites any more. Maybe the only satellite control center had been at Zedong Headquarters.

“It looks like they are doing about 20 knots,” observed Vice Admiral Rogers once he had studied the computer screen for a couple of minutes. “That gives us two days. I think we need to bring our plan forward by 24 hours.”

“Are we ready with our plan of defense?” Preston asked Colonel Patterson, who had just walked in and was quickly briefed by Carlos. He had arrived late the night before and had gotten several hours of sleep for the first time in days.

“Yes, I think so,” he replied. “There’s not much more to do. The next flights in from Kabul are due in another four hours. I think that we should unload, refuel, and fly ten of the 747s into Seymour Johnson to have their seats removed and get our larger food-distribution plan started a day early. Seven of the bigger, more southern cities in the Pacific Time Zone have clear runways. Five of the passenger aircraft can go straight into Edwards and can begin distributing supplies into Las Vegas, Phoenix, San Diego, Los Angeles, and San Francisco.

“The others can go into our supply bases in Texas and cover Dallas, Houston, Santé Fe, Denver, and Salt Lake, if their runways are clear. The 747 transporter is going to deliver food into Chicago, Washington D.C., and Philadelphia for the next three days, but it will take another ten hours to clear Chicago’s runway. They only have three bulldozers working. Once we have more aircraft, we can get them onto the Baghdad and Kabul routes and have another couple left over for supply runs out of Texas. We received word a couple of days ago about a very large Army food-storage warehouse at one of the bases in Texas, from the colonel who arrived with the Texas convoy, and he made me promise to distribute the food supplies in and around Texas. I want to fly three new 747s into that base as soon as we have them.”

“What about the defense perimeter?” asked Vice Admiral Rogers.

“All ready and a day early is even better,” continued Colonel Patterson. ”It will save the troops from getting cold and bored. We will be short one flight of 6,000 troops, but we now have close to 85,000 soldiers on the ground in and around the airports, the harbor, and on every street and window overlooking possible escape routes from the highways. We are ready to delay the arriving troops. Over 190 mobile-command radios are now operational, every gun team is patched in, and every platoon or company of men, guns or ships can be given immediate firing orders. Or they can just stay tuned to the running commentary from our spotters around the highways, or be ready in the harbor area for Phase Two. We even have a radio on top of the Statue of Liberty, wired directly into my Harbor Command Center on top of the south tower of the Verrazano Narrows Bridge. The bridge explosives are in place. Gentlemen, we are as ready as we could ever be.”

“That means we could expect visitors anytime after dawn tomorrow,” added the vice admiral.

“Correct,” replied the colonel. “I want all fighter aircraft in the air from here to McGuire as soon as the first incoming 747 aircraft touches down. The aircraft with the least range will take off last. The F-4s will only take off once the first empty 747 aircraft are back in the air. The incoming troops will see nobody, apart from the expected Chinese engineers with our pilots refueling the aircraft and smuggling themselves on board each one. Can we trust the Chinese engineers to play their parts, Lee?”

“Yes, I believe so,” replied Lee who, with his wife and daughter, had spoken to each man one at a time and had offered whatever the man wanted to get him on their side. Only seven of the 100 engineers had not sounded happy about defecting and another ten had been suspect. The others had welcomed the opportunity as long as they could go back and bring out as many family members as they wished once the contest had been decided. The 17 engineers that were still suspect had been placed under guard at JFK where Majors Wong and Chong were already in place to assist with the refueling and become the new pilots of two of the incoming aircraft.

Lee was to be flown into La Guardia to help with Chinese communications at the third airport. There were only ten Chinese engineers there due to Colonel Patterson’s belief that with their reduced flight size, the chairman might only use the two closest airports instead of all three airports.

*****

Colonel Patterson was right. Twenty-three hours later, and two hours before dawn on a cloudy but cold morning, several aircraft entered the edge of the old, most powerful radar screen on Blue Moon, which was circling over McGuire at 5,000 feet to get the maximum information out of her radar capabilities.

The aircraft, in a long line, were arriving in from the north and were over Prince Edward Island, 1,000 miles from New York. It would still take the aircraft two hours to reach New York, but radio messages went out over the vast mobile communication system and hundreds of truck and car engines started and landing lights at the three airports’ repaired electronics and aircraft-directional systems came alive to guide the aircraft in. It took only one radio message from Blue Moon, who immediately prepared to land, to warn everybody.

America got ready for its invasion.

Colonel Patterson had decided to monitor proceedings from Newark’s control tower and he had two other Marine majors who would be in command of the battles, if there were any, at the other two airports. Newark Liberty International Airport was much closer to the harbor area, and these incoming troops had to be taken out quicker than those from the other two airports. Twenty-five thousand troops were in hiding around Newark airport alone, all the way from the airport to the Bayonne side of the Newark Bay Bridge, which was the major ambush site for this section of the attack.

The Newark Bay Bridge was nearly 10,000 feet long. The invading troops, or the majority of them, would have to walk across it. Once they were trapped on the long bridge, they could be attacked from the air at both ends, and hopefully made to surrender if they wanted to survive.

Dozens of heavy machine guns were hidden in the buildings nearest to the Bayonne end of the bridge, and teams were ready to carry them into place and cut off the two empty stretches of highway on the bridge. With more heavy machine guns camouflaged on the other end, the only hope for the Chinese soldiers would be to jump into the freezing water, which would mean certain death.

Everyone got into position and waited. Preston climbed into his P-38 because at the last minute Colonel Patterson had asked him to be air cover for the Newark Bridge and be airborne to strafe the bridge, hopefully to help scare the invaders into surrendering quickly.

Another Air Force pilot was to fly his P-51 and with Martie and Carlos, they were ready to help guide the refueled and airborne enemy-flown 747s into McGuire if they couldn’t get the American pilots aboard.

Blue Moon quickly landed and got off the radar screen. The incoming 747 pilots might have seen her, and all the fighter aircraft waited. They didn’t want to show up on the incoming aircraft’s radar and scare them into landing somewhere else. Even after such a long flight from China, they still had reserves of fuel to land somewhere else in the United States, even as far south as the Caribbean islands.

It took over an hour before the lead aircraft showed up on the less-powerful radar screens in the airports, and the air traffic towers from different airports watched as the 23 blips on the screen slowly came closer and began to merge into two different lines.

Thirty minutes later they were just over 100 miles out and the aircraft slowly turned into long final approaches to both JFK and Newark, just as Colonel Patterson had hoped for.

Just in case some of the aircraft could peel off and still go into La Guardia, he waited until they were 20 miles out before telling all the troops at La Guardia who had access to motorized transport to get aboard and head over to JFK. It would take them an hour, but at least 1,000 more men driving in to assist the 20,000 troops already in place on the roads out of JFK would help if need be.

As the sun rose over the horizon, a small sliver of light between the ocean and the lower cloud layers, the silhouetted shapes of aircraft could be seen by nearly everybody as they glided in, a mile apart, into the two airports—ten coming in from the northeast into JFK and 11 from the southeast into Newark.

It didn’t look like any would change direction towards La Guardia and the waiting became long and slow for the airport soldiers. It was still very cold and the air around them was totally silent of noise.

Everybody who had a part to play at the airports got ready and the aircraft came swooping into the coast of the United States from the orange-colored Eastern horizon one after the other. The engineers, both Chinese and American—the Americans all wearing the well-used clothes of the termination squads long since dead—waited patiently on the runway.

At JFK, they had set up ten refueling generators, each able to pump fuel through one pipe only. Two were normally used, one under each wing to refuel a 747-400 with up to 64,000 gallons, or an Airbus with over 70,000 gallons with a pump and pipe. At least 45 minutes to an hour would be needed for each plane. Since nobody expected the aircraft to fly further than McGuire or Andrews, one pipe would pump in enough for the short trip and only 20 minutes of fuel was needed to be pumped into each wing.

The colonel had reckoned on 20 minutes for the incoming pilots to be disabled and hidden somewhere in the aircraft. He also prayed that apart from the pilots who would stay aboard, none of the Chinese troops on the ground would know anything about refueling aircraft and how long it should take.

Newark only had eight generators ready to pump fuel into the 11 incoming and thirsty aircraft. It wasn’t enough, and nobody had been told where the aircraft were going to land. Lee Wang had monitored satellite calls and only two calls in the last two days had been received from the enemy. One was to ask if everything was going according to plan, from a voice he didn’t know. He told them that the three airports were secure and that they would be ready within 24 hours of the phone call. He had been asked about refueling, with the other end of the call not giving away any information, and he had stated that the pumping systems were operational and ready.

The second call was from the incoming pilots telling them that they expected to be refueled and out of America within the hour. Lee replied that they would do as good a job as possible and that there was food and drinks in the terminals for the pilots. The pilot in charge responded that they were not allowed to leave the aircraft, but they would appreciate food and refreshments being carried aboard. The plan was set and the American pilots got ready with trays of food and tea urns and even wore captured engineer white coats to look as official as possible.

One by one the aircraft gently came in and landed at the two airports. It was a beautiful sight for anybody who loved flying to see the long final approach of lines of majestic aircraft as far as the eye could see. A group of 30 Chinese engineers headed by Major Wong at Newark, and a second group under Major Chong at JFK got ready in the termination squad uniforms to welcome the troops and make it look like they were ready for their arrival.

Over 300 snipers covered the apron area on the roof tops of the terminals, dressed in white camouflage and invisible to the incoming aircraft with white sheets pulled over their rifles and bodies, which blended with the deep snow perfectly.

Men with batons directed the first aircraft into their refueling positions and mobile stairs were towed by old cars and trucks into position by the left side doors facing the terminal, three to an aircraft. As the first engines began to die down, the fuel lines were connected to the empty wings and jet fuel began to flow. Immediately, Chinese troops dressed in green camouflage descended down the stairs and a commander walked up to the majors who waited for them at both airports.

The Chinese commander at Newark spoke rapidly to Major Wong, bringing out a map to discuss the movement of his troops. The major responded, showing him the way out of the airport, then pointed at the map, showed him the direction of the bridge as the first aircraft slowly emptied hundreds of armed men. Wong gave several orders to his squad in Chinese, and they ran forward to assist the American Air Force technicians with the refueling underneath the first eight large aircraft.

Much the same happened at JFK. As soon as the first aircraft stopped disgorging heavily armed troops, the men in white coats were ready to climb the stairs to “feed” the pilots. Once the new pilots, all armed with Tazers on heavy stun and automatic pistols with silencers beneath their white coats, and with tea urns full of extra ammo entered the empty aircraft, the stairs were immediately pulled away to be towed to the next aircraft waiting to disembark. This move was planned to stop any of the Chinese troops from getting back into the aircraft.

The strategy went according to plan at both airports. Once the incoming troops realized that the airports were secure and that there would be no fight there, they relaxed a little as they stretched and slowly got into formation for their march to the harbor. Many had run out to surround the aircraft with a defense perimeter and that had been expected, no American troops were anywhere close to the apron area. Jokes were made by Wong and Chong with the incoming commanders about their ability to secure the airport, and slowly the troops were brought back to line up with the rest in front of the large refueling 747s and Airbuses.

At Newark, and only with 747s to refuel, Major Wong recognized the colonel he had run past in Shanghai’s tower, but with the cold weather they all had their faces covered, apart from their eyes, and all the people waiting for the aircraft on the aprons were mostly the Chinese engineers heavily bundled up with winter clothing.

It didn’t take long for the first companies of hundreds of men to move off towards the airport exits and out of the way. The soldiers in marching formation, sticking out like sore thumbs in green camouflage, started marching to the cleared roadways to get them out of the airport and in the direction of the harbor. By the time all the aircraft were empty 30 minutes later, the first troops were already a quarter of a mile away and still marching in ranks, moving down the allotted and cleared highways, unaware that they were being watched by thousands.

The first refueled 747s, already under the control of the new pilots, were beginning to start up their aircraft and move the rears of their engines around so they faced the exits, and made the last of the troops move even faster to get out of the noise and wind blowing behind the massive engines.

Much like the operation at Shanghai Pudong Airport, as the first aircraft began moving, all the refueling stopped. The equipment was pulled away and the remaining aircraft began a rapid deployment to the end of the runway for take-off as fast as possible.

At Newark, it took 30 more minutes for the larger number of troops to get out of the apron area. The most forward troops were already yards from the middle of the Newark Bay Bridge as the jet engines started. Shots and muffles could be heard by Major Wong in a couple of the aircraft and the stairs were quickly pulled back from the last aircraft where it sounded like a fire fight was taking place inside. The refueling hoses were immediately hauled away, and somehow a small puddle of fuel ignited underneath one of the aircraft. The men refueling the aircraft must have lost some as they hurriedly dragged the equipment away, and suddenly the whole undercarriage area broke into flames.

“Get the other aircraft out of here,” shouted Colonel Patterson in the control tower over his radio. “Fuel fire on the apron!”

Three other aircraft were still pretty close to the one on fire, and several men ran forward with fire extinguishers. A couple of dead men fell down the stairs and now heavy rifle fire could be heard from inside the aircraft. Slowly, the other aircraft got moving and the sound of rifle fire was drowned out as jet engines screamed everywhere moving fast to get onto the taxiway. The first 747 was already trundling down the runway at take-off speed and about to get into the air when there was an almighty explosion and the whole 747 in front of the terminal, with dozens of men aboard, suddenly blew up.

It had taken on very little fuel, but the thousand or more gallons of exploding jet fuel in her wings was enough to create a shock wave that broke all the windows in the terminals several hundred feet away. The first 747 was far enough away down the long runway to not be in harm’s way, but the closest 747 less than 100 yards away was sprayed with flying debris.

Colonel Patterson shouted at the pilots to check their controls as the aircraft still trundled away from the blazing inferno. What was left of the last large aircraft and the massive cloud of smoke from the fire blinded the whole area above the apron.

“All troops in the areas around the roads, our surprise is over,” shouted Colonel Patterson into his radio. “You may fire at will if you feel it necessary. November Bravo (Newark Bay) Bridge area, how many Charlies do you have on the bridge ambush area? Men manning the return roads back into the airports, make sure no Charlies get back onto the runways to the aircraft. We still have the majority of the aircraft on the ground and need 15 minutes to clear the runways. Over.”

“This is Rear Command on the November Bravo Bridge, we have about 1,000 on the bridge and tons more that haven’t got here yet. They have seen the explosion and several officers are discussing what to do. We have not yet opened fire. Over.”

“Exit Road, November Airport Command here. We still have men passing us by, most are on the road and they are still moving forward. I see a couple of men speaking into radios. Nobody has yet opened fire. Over.”

“Okay, guys, wait one. I’ll get back to you,” continued the colonel. “All November Airport Terminal soldiers, make your way to the airport exit points. Try not to be seen and await further orders. Juliet Foxtrot Kilo Airport, what is your current situation? Over.”

“Juliet Command to Papa Bear. Our Charlies must have seen the plume of smoke from your position. The airport is clear, two aircraft in the air and six to go. We need ten minutes, we are closing down the Van Wyck Highway from the terminal area and will move forward. Over.”

“Roger that. Everybody hear that. Try and stay hidden until…” and suddenly the area between the airport and the bridge suddenly erupted as thousands of guns all began firing. “All groups! Fire at will! The war is started. All fighter aircraft get in here, hit the largest most open groups and keep your hits on the highways only, remember we have friendlies everywhere!” Colonel Patterson had to shout into the radio since he could hardly hear himself speak.

Preston had already taken off ten minutes earlier, and was approaching the New York area. He could see a couple of the 747s already airborne and heard Major Wong now checking with each aircraft to see if they had control of it. Over his two radios, he also heard the F-4s taking off from McGuire 20 miles behind him as well as the three P-51s already heading out to sea just in front of the two AC-130 gunships. Everybody was in the air, and Preston was still climbing through 10,000 feet when he saw plumes of smoke already coming from the Newark Bay Bridge area.

“Air Cover to Ground Control. Where do you need me first? Over.”

“Rear Bridge Command to Air Cover. We have a large group of Charlies who haven’t reached the bridge yet and have set up a defensive perimeter. They are on the north side of the road leading up to the bridge area. I suggest you come in over the main steel skeleton atop the bridge and fire down the highway. Over.”

“Confirm you have no friendlies on the actual roadway. Over.”

“Roger that. We have no friendlies on asphalt. Over.”

“Coming in,” replied Preston, testing his guns. This time he would not be an amateur. He dove in near vertical over the dock area and the P-38 rapidly gained speed. He aimed for the bridge and the steel skeleton structure over the center area. Preston wanted to use the four 50-caliber machine guns first, since they would do the most damage, and he noticed blackened areas of the actual roadway where there could only be masses of people lying down on the asphalt. They were hiding the white center lines of the traffic lanes from view.

At 400 miles an hour, he pulled out of his dive and for several seconds poured a thousand rounds into an area about a mile long on the north side of the road. He pulled up and went vertical, his stomach feeling like he was on a roller coaster, and then he let the right wing drop down and again he went into a steep dive, taking the Hispano cannon off safety as he neared the bridge, this time coming in from the Jersey side. He aimed for the southern side and blew bits and pieces of roadway up all the way to the skeleton structure where he released the trigger. He couldn’t have much ammo left.

“We are coming to join you,” shouted Martie into her microphone as she saw Preston rise in front of them three or four miles ahead. All the 747 aircraft except three had already turned towards McGuire, and the F-4s were harassing the last three of the Airbuses to turn back. Something had gone wrong, and the Chinese pilots were heading out of the area with little fuel and at maximum power.

“Go in two by two,” answered Preston. “Each of you pick a side of the road and strafe the area south of the bridge skeleton for about a mile.”

“Roger that,” replied Carlos. “Come on, Martie, let’s go and get some retaliation for all the people these bastards have killed!” The two P-51s went in, and Preston’s came up to join him and circle, waiting for further instructions.

“Air Cover, this is the Turnpike Command. We have a retreat of Charlies trying to get back to the airport. We are not holding them. Can you come in from the south and help clear the road for us? You can’t miss them; it is like a crowd coming out of a ball game.”

“Air Cover, this is US1 Jersey Command. We have hundreds of Charlies still heading towards the fight. They are getting onto the highway from the main exit roads out of the airport and we would like you guys to go in before we start a ground assault. Over.”

“Roger that,” replied Preston. He and the pilot in his P-51 went straight into the turnpike area and they both strafed a mile of both sides of the road with machine guns until Preston heard the tell-tale clicks that he was out of ammo. He told Carlos and Martie to head to US 1 with their aircraft and hit the area between the entrance to the airport and the roads leading onto I-78.

“November Bravo Bridge Ground Control to Air Cover. Thanks, guys! There are bodies piled up everywhere! We are closing off the bridge and starting our ground assault. Confirm that you know there are friendlies now on the bridge. Over.”

“Roger that, there are friendlies on the Bay Bridge!” stated the four pilots into their radios as they continued to pound US 1 with machine guns and rocket fire. There were large masses of enemy soldiers pinned down by ground fire and now sitting ducks from the air. Over the course of ten minutes, the four old World War II fighter aircraft threw everything they had at the last stretch of road before they had to go back to refuel and rearm.

“We are out, guys, let’s go and refuel,” Preston called to the three Mustangs, and for the first time he saw smoke coming out of his Mustang’s engine exhausts. He told the pilot he had damage and the pilot reported that his oil pressure was dropping and he would nurse her into McGuire. Preston put a mayday call out for assistance at McGuire and they escorted the damaged aircraft back, interrupting the landing pattern of the larger 747 commercial aircraft that were immediately diverted to Andrews further south.