Page 35 of Recall to Arms

knife.

  Razzaq exclaimed in terror, “What the, WHAT ARE Youuu?”--His last words.

  Naperville Base

  As the Little Bird pilot was radioing in on his approach to LZ1, the Naperville mall, Peter’s SINGGARS radio came to life, “Striker One, Big Eye One, Over.”

  “This is Striker One, over.”

  Compass Call said, “Sir, we caught your squawker again three minutes ago and got five good traces. Overlay with earlier traces shows precise location of the transmitter. We have coordinates when able to copy, over.”

  He pulled a pen and small notepad from a shoulder pocket. “Ready to copy Big Eye One, over.”

  He copied the exact longitude and latitude coordinates. “Thanks Big Eye, maybe we can save some lives together, out.”

  As they landed at Naperville, Peter jumped to the pavement while Luke and Angela followed. He was met immediately with a salute from a young Captain, “Sir, Captain Stokes Illinois National Guard, strike platoon ready for your orders sir.”

  Peter returned the salute, “Stokes, I’ve heard that name, you ever with SOCOM?”

  “Sir, I know you by reputation, we served together in the 82nd Airborne at Bragg under Operation Iraqi Freedom. We probably saw some action on the same sand. I was an E4 at the time.”

  Peter responded warmly, “Well Stokes, you and I need to swap beers sometime. Please introduce your men.”

  The ritual was always the same, when going into small unit operations, each man needed to depend on the others for mutual survival, regardless of rank. Knowing who was with you was prudent. After introductions, Peter called everyone together, including the pilots and FBI. He said, “People, we are going into an unknown situation. Our first target is a place where the detonation signal came from today. We believe there are five more bombs. Let’s locate the bombers, and neutralize them. We will fly four birds in echelon formation, trying to avoid detection. We don’t know how many personnel or weapons they have. I will be in the lead with three soldiers.” Addressing the Apache helicopter crew, he said, “Longbow, you will loiter close by, your call sign is Blue Thunder. Any questions?”

  Everyone wanted to know more; but from experience, they knew there wasn’t much information. One of the men asked, “Sir, what about the Feds?

  Peter instructed, “I want the agents split between Little Birds Three & Four.”

  One of the Rangers placed Peter’s weapons and ammunition aboard Little Bird One. On the move, he ordered, “Blue Thunder, I want you to stand off five miles for noise reduction. All others, Little Bird One has lead. Let’s mount up.”

  They all ran to assigned transport and within thirty seconds, the strike team was lifting off. The helicopters created an immense amount of wind, noise and pulsating vibration. The transition to flight was invigorating. Shortly after takeoff each aircraft began moving into formation as they flew low, and fast. En route, Peter requested radio checks of communicator headsets. He’d given the target coordinates to the pilot.

  He then called headquarters for confirmation that the NSA assets were assigned, and then he made one more call.

  After a quick series of relays at MacDill, AFB, Peter was talking to the US Army Special Operations Commander, Lt. General Robert Gardner keyed his handset saying, “This is General Gardner, please identify, over.”

  ”General, this is Lt. Colonel Peter Shields, assigned to the Illinois Guard, supporting the FBI counter-terrorist force en route to suspected hostile zone, over.”

  Gardner replied, “Peter! So you’ve finally re-emerged. Damn tough situation up there. I’m glad to hear our best man is on it. How can I help? I assume this isn’t a social call, over.”

  “Yes sir, thank you sir. Sir, the site we are approaching is believed to have an electronic signaling device that detonates the bombs. Five bombs remain unaccounted for. We may need to block the detonation signal while engaging the enemy, over.”

  “Tell me what you need Peter. I’ll provide whatever on earth we have, over.”

  “Sir it won’t do any good to jam the receivers, because we don’t know where they are, over.”

  Gardner said, “So, you want to disable the transmitter. Would a GBU-15 (smart bomb) work?”

  “Sir, I have Longbow, but these are probably fanatics, we can’t chance a near miss, I need broader area coverage with one shot, with troops in proximity.”

  Gardner responded, “Peter, active suppression without destruction is still in development. I’ll make some calls and get back fast, out.”

  He knew that he was asking for unconventional help, but he needed to be sure the bad guys could not fire the nukes in some dying effort. Three long minutes passed when the radio sounded again, “Shields, this is Gardner, over.”

  “Shields, over.”

  “Peter, can you copy?” Peter acknowledged. “Here goes. An F15E Strike Eagle, codenamed Eagle One, will be over your position in approximately fifty, five zero, minutes with two GBU-XEMP devices aboard. Airburst parameters will be at your command. Do you have designation capability? Over.”

  “Sir, roger that. Affirm. We have Little Bird with Mast-Mount sights. It will have to do, over.” Peter wished the designator would be ground based to protect the helicopters, but he had no choice.

  Gardner said, “God speed Peter, out.” He silently prayed the experimental EMP (Electro-Magnetic Pulse bomb) wouldn’t be necessary.

  A New Plan

  Razzaq squirmed in pain as the Russians watched, blood draining from several deep stab wounds to his mid-section. When he weakened sufficiently, they each grabbed an arm and dragged him to the house dropping him on the back porch, one saying in Russian, “Good Vasya, now call the cars.”

  The man did as instructed immediately, just as he’d done when he killed the freight man and the limousine driver. “It’s done Tolya.”

  Vasily Alekseev (Vasya) and Anatoly Machin (Tolya) had grown up together and were life-long allies through the military and in their criminal lives. Machin said, “Can you imagine? This fool actually wanted to blow up a city instead of ransoming it? Did he not recognize the money he could make?”

  Alekseev responded, “You know these fanatics. They think there is reward in killing people, from their sick god.”

  Headlights could be seen in caravan coming toward the farm. Machin instructed, “Vasya, get the detonator and let’s be gone.” The other man reacted quickly and went to the barn to collect the transmitter. Alekseev had trained as an electronics engineer in the Russian military and had worked on various detonation devices. During the war in Afghanistan, he’d been one of the first Russian paratroopers during Christmas 1979 to land in Kabal. The country was already in an intense civil war. The prime minister, Hafizollah Amin had tried to westernize their culture, which outraged the majority of the population.

  Thousands of Muslims fled the capital and went to the mountains. Amin declared a communist Government, which created further discontent. Thousands joined the Mujahdeen, a guerilla force on a holy mission for Allah against the new Government. They declared a jihad, a holy war, on the supporters of Amin, which extended to the allied Russians. Two days after invading, the Russians shot Amim and replaced him with Babrak Kamal. Eventually, 85,000 Russian soldiers were used in an attempt to keep him in power. By the end of the 1980’s Russia left Afghanistan, much the way the US retreated from Vietnam.

  Alekseev and Machin were stationed together for years. Machin worked in supply, while Alekseev was involved with bombs and other mass killing events, ultimately crafting his trade as a master assassin.

  Eight vehicles arrived at the farm, mostly limousines, driven by Russians. The two senior men got into one of the center cars, which departed in convoy through the farmlands west of Chicago.

  Striker Mission One

  When the assault force approached the target coordinates, the sun had already set for almost two hours. Five miles out, Peter ordered the pilot to maintain distance a
nd fly around the target site at a constant radius. They were flying at three thousand feet and could see for more than twenty miles. As the flight circled, three houses were located close to the center in the sparsely populated farmland.

  They flew in orbits as Peter prioritized the targets. One of the houses on the perimeter had no out buildings, so he made the decision to check the other two farms that had barns and other equipment buildings. He pressed his throat mike, “Radio check, Birds Two through Four, report in sequence, over.”

  All three units checked in, followed by Blue Thunder that was hovering several miles away. Peter instructed, “Little Bird Two, your target is the western farm. Three, you support Two, over.”

  Two and Three reported in sequence. He commanded, “Little Bird Four, you stay with One. We will take the farm to the east, over.”

  “Four, roger that.”

  Peter wanted the two FBI agents split so that they had arrest authority at both locations. His next instructions were, “Okay, my call sign is STRIKER One, Captain Stokes is STRIKER Two, Stokes will lead the western assault. Reform Now!”

  Little Bird Four moved forward on One’s wing, while Two and Three fell back about a mile, with Two in the lead. Peter ordered, “Commence!, Commence!, Commence!”

  Both flights rolled hard forty-five degrees, accelerating toward the ground. Angela had heard most of the dialogue, but did not understand the