Retribution (Soldier Up - Book Five 5) (9 page)

Coronado, California.  North Island Naval Air Station (NAS), Admiral Meyer’s headquarters. Admiral Meyer had called his senior staff as well as those from Naval Base San Diego, 32
nd
Street, to his headquarters to discuss how they could support the defense of Washington D.C. They needed to act now.  As far as the Admiral could tell, they didn’t have the aircraft to send a few thousand Marines along with their equipment.  The C-17s, all five of them, were a Godsend and they were lucky to have them.  However, they had to cannibalize thirty-five additional C-17s to get those to work and they were already overburdened with work.  The trains, which could move hundreds, were cleared to New Mexico in the south and to Iowa in the Midwest, but that was a very narrow corridor that the Army had secured.

              The only plan that made sense was to send ships down to Panama and through the canal, assuming it was operational.  That was a huge gamble, because no one knew that status and if they had to fight for it.  It didn’t matter. They would take the risk, as reports from the nation’s capital were that there was a sizeable force on its way and the 3
rd
was going to be severely overmatched.  They were going to get re-enforced by the 82
nd
and 18
th
, but they wouldn’t be able to commit everything and leave Fort Bragg and its communities vulnerable.  It wasn’t only the fight that was coming from someone called Colonel Magnus.  Current forces in the area were unable to secure refineries along the coast and other necessary resources.  The 3
rd
Infantry Regiment was stretched incredibly thin; the Admiral wasn’t happy at all with the Naval Commands in Virginia and Maryland. 

              Although he was now receiving reports from Oceana NAS from the base commander that looked very promising, he was a real go getter.  Who the hell was this Marine Captain that he was working with? He’d have to push that off on General Charkin, the Marine Commandant who was also present at this meeting. 

              “Alright let’s get this meeting started,” Admiral Meyer said. “What realistically can we do to help without surrendering our own security?”

              “I have two thousand-five hundred pissed off Marines I can send, but we need a ride,” General Charkin said.

              “Good starting point General, thank you,” Admiral Meyer replied.

              “What’s the status of the
Midway
?” Admiral Meyer asked.

              Rear Admiral Stacy responded, “She’s ready to go sir; you give the word and she can sail.”

              “Can we send the
Iowa
?” Admiral Meyer asked.

              “Sir, we believe our threat level here at this time to be very low.  Our Intelligence suggests the Mexicans are no longer a threat. I believe we can get by without her, but I don’t think she should be homeported there.  I also believe that once she’s there it will be very difficult to get her back,” Rear Admiral Hokam stated.

              “What about giving our friends a ride?” Admiral Meyer asked.

              “Yes Sir, it’s doable. We have the transport ships available and can move them and their LAVs and AAVs,” Rear Admiral Stacy chimed in.

              “So, we have the resources. That’s good news, but that’s only half the battle.  We don’t have a clue, outside of Mexico, what’s going on south of us.  We don’t have the time to sail around South America. We have to go through the canal.  What are your thoughts?” Admiral Meyer asked.

              “The canal was expanded last year and can handle all of the ships we would plan on sending,” Rear Admiral Hokam said.

              “We can handle the security if you can get us close enough.” General Charkin stated.  “Worst case is that the locks are down and or we need someone that can operate them.”

              “Best case scenario is the canal is up and running and we can be at Norfolk in sixteen days.  Worst case is that the locks are all computer-operated and we have to do everything manually.  And we have to take the canal from anyone not willing to participate. I can’t give you a time frame on that,” Read Admiral Stacy said.

              Admiral Meyer looked around the room. “This has been great, but I want a plan. Can we have one done and presented to me in seventy-two hours?”

             
Aye, aye Sir
they said unanimously. “Wonderful,” the Admiral stated. “Let’s meet back here at 0900 three days from this date.”

              After more
ayes
the meeting broke up.  Admiral Meyer asked to speak with Vice Admiral Sharon Waylit in his office after the meeting, “Aye Sir will do,” she responded.  Vice Admiral Sharon Waylit was the newly appointed Senior Officer for Naval Aviation.  She’d been in the Navy for twenty-five years and had served as an officer in fleet for many years before moving over to the aviation side of things.  She became a fighter pilot at the age of thirty-five, which was considered old at the time to be making that move.  She was successful and had led squadrons during Iraq and Afghanistan as well as other incursions that were classified.  Vice Admiral Waylit had been very involved in triathlons in her free time prior to the event, something she sorely missed.  She found some comfort that she could still run around North Island, which was a nice five-mile run.

              Ten minutes after the meeting ended Vice Admiral Waylit and Admiral Meyer met back in his office.  Admiral Meyer signaled for her to have a seat in the chair across from his desk.  “Sharon.” Admiral Meyer started off by calling her by her given name. “Is there anything we can do to see what the hell is going on around the canal?”

              “From an aviation stand-point?” Vice Admiral Waylit asked.  She thought for a moment.  “We do have B-17s that can be outfitted with extra fuel tanks or fuel bladders that could fly down and take a look.”

              “Maybe more of a look?” Admiral Meyer said.

              “What are you thinking sir?” Vice Admiral Waylit asked.

              “That if we can fly down there we can drop a couple of SEAL teams each with the new modified short wave radio sets,” Admiral Meyer said.  “That way we can get first hand reports about what’s happening and be prepared going in.”

              “Understood sir, but this could very well be a one-way mission for those SEALs; we don’t know how we’d get them out,” Vice Admiral Waylit said.

              “Yes, yes I know I’ve thought about that too.  The teams selected would have to volunteer. Once there, they would have to wait for the fleet to get there and be extracted.  During World War Two we dropped special operations personnel behind enemy lines all the time and they were there until they hooked up with the allies coming from Normandy.  We did similar things in Korea and Vietnam.  Dropping them down there and waiting it out is not unheard of,” Admiral Meyer rolled through.

              “Yes sir, I can see that, now all you have to do is get the teams to volunteer,” Vice Admiral Waylit responded.

              “That’s a done deal Admiral. They’re ready to go anytime you are.  I only needed your buy-in on the C-17 and I don’t want everyone knowing about it,” Admiral Meyer replied.

              Vice Admiral Waylit raised her eyebrows, feeling she had just been led down a road that Admiral Meyer was fully aware of the destination.  “Well sir, let me check to see what’s available.”

              “Sharon this has the highest priority; it trumps everything. By the end of the week I need those teams on the ground.  My expectation is that after the planning and subsequent briefing in three days the fleet will be underway immediately following.  We don’t have time to waste,” Admiral Meyer ordered.

              “Aye sir, the aircraft will be ready when you are. I’ll get to work on it when I get back to my office.  Would it be possible for the SEAL Commander to contact my office ASAP so we can coordinate?’ Vice Admiral Waylit asked.

              “Taken care of already Sharon. He should be waiting for you when you get there,” Admiral Meyer smiled.

              Vice Admiral Waylit shook her head and stood, “You’ve thought of everything haven’t you?” She looked at him and smiled back.  She turned and left his office.

SEAL Team One had furnished two ‘volunteer’ teams for the Panama Mission.  Both teams boarded the single C-17 that was provided with the additional fuel tanks. One team would be dropped by parachute with the newly modified short wave radios at the Pacific side of the canal.  The modified radios still had the distance to transmit any place in the world given the proper antenna dimensions.  However, the radios were designed to be compact and had a hardened casing that would better protect them for military use.  They all used either hand-powered generators or AC current. 

              The second team would be dropped at the Caribbean side with the modified short wave. Once situated, each team would survey and report back, then move east or west respectively.  Both teams would be dropped before sunrise. The C-17 then would make a beeline for Dulles in Washington D.C. to refuel.  On paper, it was a sound plan. What could go wrong? However, everyone knew that Murphy at some point would raise his ugly face.

              At 0530 the first team departed the aircraft and landed safely two miles from the Canal Zone.  They didn’t want to make it obvious to anyone that might be looking what the final destination was.  To be honest, no one really knew the EMP effects on Panama, as there had been no contact with the country in over a year.  In fact, outside of Mexico and small parts of Canada, there had been no contact with any country off the North American continent.  Once on the ground, they would hike to the Canal Zone and find an observation point.  Once that was established, they would stay there three days and report back. At that point they believed they would have enough intelligence to begin moving east.

              The second team jumped closer to 0600 at the opposite end. They were also dropped a couple of miles away from their objective and would hike in, find an over-watch position and settle in.  The first team inserted was led by Lieutenant Oscar Williams; he had been with team one for four years and loved his job.  The assistant officer was Lieutenant J.G Toby Lewis, who’d been with the team for two years and he would have gotten out if it weren’t for the event. Now with nowhere to go he had decided to stay with the teams.  Master Chief Eric Stuble, Platoon Chief Worack Gomez, Petty Officer Ross Gay, and Petty Officer Steven Rolls all had ten years or better in the teams and were experienced operators.  Most of the team members had fought in Iraq, Afghanistan and all of them had fought recently against Mexico. 

              The second team inserted at the far end of the Canal Zone was led by Lieutenant Bill Anderson. He was regular Navy through-and-through.  The assistant officer was Lieutenant J.G Wilbur Martin, also true blue Navy, followed by Master Chief Eric Homer Jenkins, Platoon Chief Wolf Perry, and Petty Officer Robert Perez, Petty Officer 2
nd
Class Stephan Fisher.  Like the other team, all of the men had ten years or better in the teams and were experienced operators.  All had fought in Mexico as well and most had prior combat experience. 

              Both teams were well aware that this could be their last mission. Their extraction was based on the fleet being able to make it to the canal and then though it.  Granted, they all knew there was self-extraction, meaning they would have to travel roughly 3,825 miles to get back to San Diego, so it could be a long walk home.  They also knew that this was the job, there were no guarantees ever, and this is what they signed up for.  Once again, it was time to put their training to work. The first team near the entrance of the canal, Lieutenant Williams’ team, made quick time covering the two miles.   They skirted the villages and around Port Balboa or the Port of Panama City to find an overlook in an abandoned four-story building in Balboa Heights.  Up to this point they hadn’t seen any sign of life, which struck them all as odd.  There were thousands of people living around the port at one time, but now it was a ghost town. 

              Security was established within the building. They set up the radio and ran the antenna upstairs to the roof, and they made a single report back to Coronado simply stating that everything was 5-by-5 and in motion. They kept all radio transmissions short and to the point. They set up the radio in a way that if they needed to bug out, they could quickly take it down and stow it away.  Their vantage gave them a great view of the port and the entrance to the canal; they had planned on sitting in this location for the next two days before moving east a bit and view it from another location.  After a few days they had the option of further investigating up close and personal. If they found something they could talk to even better.  A lot of it was up to the team commander, and in many cases he put it to a vote with the rest of the team.  Ultimately, it was his decision. 

              The second team had a very similar experience; they had no issues, making it to the Port of Cristobal.  They also found a vacated three-story building within the port from which they had a clear view. The biggest difference was that there was life around the port.  Not much life, but they had observed over the first four hours there a half dozen people meandering around, although only a couple of them looked as though they had a purpose for being there.  Like the other team they sent a brief message stating everything was good and quickly signed off.  They would stay in their present location for a few days, assuming they weren’t discovered, before moving west and taking up another observation post.  The Chief and Perez, who both spoke fluent Spanish, with the Lieutenant’s permission, went down to the port.  They had found a change of clothes, which would allow them to fit in with the locals.  They would take their glocks with them for protection.

              They wanted to gather some HUMINT and the only real way to do there was to get amongst the population.  The two men changed clothes, checked weapons, tucked them into the small of their backs, and then headed out.  The men on shift could keep an eye on the two men down on the docks and could respond reasonably quickly if needed.  It didn’t take long for the Chief and Perez to make it down and start mingling. There were several stands selling fresh fruit and bottled water, although the bottled water looked a little sketchy.  Perez approached the fruit stand; he started up a conversation with the owner telling him they had arrived in town from the south.  Perez asked the owner of the stand where everyone was. The owner eyed Perez for a few moments, looking skeptically at Perez.

              The owner of the stand looked around; he seemed to be looking for something, “Yankee?” The man asked Perez.  Perez shook his head no and then asked him why he would think that.  The owner of the stand replied that he had a certain something about him that made him think he was an Americano.  Also, he wondered if he was associated the General Baker, the United States Army Officer from the Southern Command that had taken over the canal.  Perez became very interested in what the owner was telling him.  Apparently, after the event when it was evident that help wasn’t coming from the United States or the Panamanian Government, General Baker stepped in and set up his own canal government that placed him in-charge and the ultimate authority in the area.

              Not all of the United States soldiers followed him; there was a very large battle and General Baker emerged as the victor.  He then brutally killed everyone that opposed him, American and Panamanian alike; thousands were killed.  Then the General enslaved the Panamanians, having them work on his farms, or clearing land. He worked them to death.  By now the owner of the stand had tears rolling down his cheeks.  He stopped talking and refused to say anymore. Perez asked him to answer one last question, “Where can I find him?”  The owner indicated he and his Army could be located at old Fort Sherman.  Perez left the stand and walked back to the Chief. Perez looked the Chief in the eyes and nodded for him to follow him, and the Chief without a word followed.  The two men left the area and made their way back, taking various routes back, stopping, looking, making sure no one was following them.