WAR (14 page)

“Yes, I have one NCO, who was a forward air controller in the sandbox.”

“Perfect, we’ll want to use him to direct our fighters.”

“No problem, his name is Brian, I’ll have him on the line when you call back.”

Colonel Ricks hangs up calling his staff, “Captain, how’s the arming of the alert birds going?”

“Colonel, almost finished, they could go now if they’re needed right now. What’s the target?”

“Images coming in right now. We have a militia sitting on the border; they sent a small homemade UAV across the border where they found a large force sitting there. I want their images and videos reviewed quickly. I want to know who they are and if they intend to cross the border. If they have armor and the numbers Jake, the militia leaders says he saw, they’ll crush the militia. We can’t let a large armored force free in the southwest. We’ll have to support them until the Army can arrive.”

“Sir, do they have anyone who can assist us?”

“They have an experienced forward air controller who served in the sandbox.”

“Man are they lucky. We’re ready to go anytime. We have four Vipers and four Lightnings on alert five.” 

“Have we received the militia’s video yet?”

“Yes, the quality isn’t the best…”

“Captain, they made it themselves, give them a break. We don’t have anything in the air. We have to use what’s available.”

“Sir, we’ve been able to determine the army on the Mexican side of the border is from Venezuela, they have tanks and towed artillery. Strength appears to be 8,000 to 10,000 people.”

“Can you make out any mobile anti-air missile vehicles?”

“No, sir, that surprised us too. We’re looking at all of the pixels of what they sent, so far we haven’t found any missile vehicles, it’s strange. We would assume they have them someplace. We can’t find them which concerns us. I’d like to send up an F16 for a recon flight.”

“I think that an F16 will alert them to us. We’ll lose the element of surprise if they hear the F16. When we send the planes, I want them to surprise the hell out of them. Your request for the recon flight is denied.”

“Thought so, but I had to ask.”

“When will the targeting staff have the information to pass along to the pilots?”

“About five minutes.”

“I’m going to call this in for approval since we have to cross the border. Once we get the OK, let me know when the pilots are taking off so I can give the militia a heads up. I want their forward air observer online and giving us battle damage report in real time. The militia will be moving him to a position where he can see their camp. I don’t understand what the Venezuelans are doing here. It doesn’t matter because we’re going to stop them before they cross the border. I think we’d better alert the brass we’re about to invade Mexico.”

“General Watson, we have an Air Force Colonel Ricks from Luke AFB calling, he’s working with a local militia group who’s discovered a battalion of Venezuelan armor making plans to cross the border.”

“Colonel, this is General Watson, I understand your people stumbled across a Venezuelan army force making plans to cross our southern border?”

“Sir, actually it was a local militia who built a homemade UAV, they flew it over the border. They captured the images before it was shot out of the sky. I’ve sent the images to your ISR group. I’m sure they’ll come to the same conclusions my staff did, which is they are preparing to cross the border and invade Arizona.”

“Colonel, my ISR people just entered my office; they’re showing me the video, for a homemade UAV, these boys did well. I can make out the national patches on their uniforms. I’d say you’re lucky to have a smart group to work with.  I see the armor and artillery, but I don’t see their SAMs, have you found them?”

“Sir, that’s one item that’s confused my staff too. We can’t locate any SAMs. One of my captains thinks they didn’t bring any, or they haven’t caught up with their main body yet. Without their SAMs, sir we’d like to hit them ASAP before their SAMs can make an appearance.”

“I agree. Why don’t you give me five to ten minutes to call the White House? While I don’t foresee any problems, I’d feel better about letting the NCA know we’re about to invade another country.”

“Sir, should I hold on, or will you call me back?”

“Colonel, I’ll call you back within ten, believe me when I say within ten, this President doesn’t fool around with these types of decisions.”

“Yes sir.”

An aide knocks on the door to the Situation Room saying, “President Rand, General Watson is on the line, he says it’s urgent.”

“If he says it’s urgent, don’t even waste time asking, send his call in.”

“General, what’s up?”

“Mr. President, I sent you some files taken by a homemade UAV that a southern Arizona militia flew across the Mexican/USA border checking for any military trying to cross the border.”

“I’m not even going to ask why we have our southern border being guarded by a local militia. President Brownstone and I just put the video up on the large monitor. Is that we think it is? An armored battalion just across our border?”

“Yes Mr. President, that’s a Venezuelan armor battalion getting ready to cross our border into Arizona.”

“I expect you’re calling for permission to cross the border and destroy them before they enter Arizona.”

“Correct sir.”

President Brownstone is nodding yes, he says, “Our only army base in the area is an intelligence base, they won’t be able to stop them, only Luke air force base can. That armor battalion can do real damage to us if they’re able to cross the border.”

President Rand nods in agreement, “General, permission granted. Please keep the militia on our side of the border, I don’t want any of our people taken prisoner in Mexico.”

“Sir, they have a trained forward air controller we’d like to use.”

“General, approved. Call us back with the results of your attack.”

“Yes sir.”

General Watson hangs up the phone while asking his aide to get Colonel Ricks on the line.  

“Sir, he’s on line one.”

“Colonel, I told you it wouldn’t take long, according to my watch, it took 4 minutes and 45 seconds. You have permission to execute the attack. The President asks that the militia stay on our side. I explained to him you would like to use their FAC, the President approved him to cross, you can also tell the militia they can send three people to protect the FAC. I look forward to seeing the bomb assessment report.”

“Yes sir, thank you sir.” Hanging up the phone, the Colonel clicks the microphone saying, “Attention, this is Colonel Ricks, the mission is a GO, you may take off when ready.”

As he places the mic on his desk, he hears the first F16 take off followed by seven other fighter’s nose to tail. 

Colonel Ricks calls the Militia, “Jake, Colonel Ricks here. You have eight fighters on the way, please have your forward air controller put eyes on the target. The fighters’ call sign is Angel Flight.”

“Nice call sign, we’re ready. It looks like the Venezuelans are taking a siesta, if your guys get here quickly enough you’ll catch them napping.”

“They’ll be there very quickly.”

“Thanks, Colonel, I’ll call you back when we have a damage report.”

“Jake, take care and be safe out there.”

Minutes later, the FAC calls, “Angel flight, this is FAC Brian, I have eyes open, how do you copy?” 

“FAC Brian, this is Angel flight lead, I have a flight of four F16s and four F35s, if we’re not enough, there are six more of each prepping for a secondary strike. Do you have an illuminator?”

“Angel lead, no, but I do have precise GPS coordinates.”

“That’ll do; we’ll program our missiles with the coordinates.”

“Sent to you via link 16.”

“Got it, missiles should be away in a minute.” The pilot calls the others saying, “FANGS OUT, weapons green.” Sixteen Paveway GPS-guided bombs are dropped from the fighters; they use small fins to correct their glide angle to impact their targets. The 1,000 pound bombs land in the center of the Venezuelan column shocking the hell out of them. The militia FAC calls, “Angel lead, good shot, say again, good shot. Every bomb struck something, got secondary’s.”

“Roger, we’re coming in hot to drop napalm. Are you at a safe location?”

“Affirmative, fry the fuckers.”

Eight fighters fly 50 feet above the ground; each drops one canister of napalm that spreads over the invaders. The napalm spreads fire and death across the column. The fires set off the Venezuelan ammo adding to the death. Men are screaming from the napalm that is sticky and burning their uniforms and skin. Their hair burns, their eyes melt as their skin burns. The Venezuelans cry in horrible pain.

“Angel lead, good pass, only a couple of vehicles untouched at the rear of the column.”

“Roger, we saw them too, we going to make another pass, this time HE and WP, keep your head down.”

“Roger.”

The fighter’s second pass spreads a mixture of high explosives and white phosphorus which burns through skin and metal, water doesn’t put out the burning. The final vehicles are destroyed either by being blown apart or burning.

“Angel lead, nothing left.”

“We’ll make one pass just to make sure. We’ll drop a few canisters with delayed munitions in case someone takes an interest in our work. Thanks for the assist. Angel lead out.”

The eight fighters make one last pass, dropping canisters that open, releasing softball sized weapons, some explode on impact, many become delayed explosives waiting for someone to try to clear them when they explode. They fly over the militia wagging their wings as they turn and head to their base.

The militia’s FAC returns to the militia base telling Jake, “All gone. Just poof, gone.”

“We should search their site for weapons and supplies.”

“Jake, the zoomies dropped a ton of delayed action bombs, it’s not a safe place to go.”

“OK, let’s see if we can put together another UAV to see if there’s anyone behind this group.”

“Roger.”

The fighters call ahead to inform their colonel of their successful mission which calls the CJCS, who in turn calls the White House with the news that a battalion of Venezuelan armor was destroyed.

Chapter 9

In Burlington, North Carolina, Leon returns home from school, he jogs up the stairs to his room; he slams the door behind him. A minute later he opens the door to place a ‘Do not disturb’ sign on his door knob. His sister Beth knocks on his door, “Leon, is something wrong? What’s going on?”

“Go away. If I wanted to see you I, wouldn’t have put the do not disturb sign on my door, you can read, can’t you?”

“When are you coming out of your room?”

Leon screams at his sister, “GO AWAY, LEAVE ME ALONE.”

Beth goes to her room crying.

An hour later their father, Bob comes home; Bob looks into the family room, no kids, he looks in the back yard, no kids, he listens and doesn’t hear anything. He calls out, “Beth, Leon, are you home?”

Beth opens her bedroom door, still sniffling, she slowly goes downstairs to see her father who says, “Beth what’s wrong?”

“It’s Leon; he came home and slammed his door closed, he yelled at me and told me to go away.”

“OK, why don’t you go to the family room and watch TV, I’ll go see what’s wrong with Leon.” Walking up the stairs, Bob sees the do not disturb sign, “Leon, it's Dad, open up.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to see my son, you.”

“No, can’t everyone leave me alone?”

“Leon, we love you, open the door, let me in.”

“OK.” Opening the door, Bob sees his son has a black eye, “What happened?”

“I got jumped and beat up on the way home. A bunch of guys said I was an LSA lover. It’s because of that stupid television program we were on. They said the invasion is partly my fault because we let Wolf into our home all the time; he was a spy who got information the LSA needed to invade.”

Bob sits on Leon’s bed, “Son, you had nothing to do with it. First let’s get some ice on that shiner. Son, the LSA had all the information they needed to know about Vegas, they could find anything they wanted online. Remember they started this by poisoning some of our children, President Rand cut the LSA and Russian electrical power off. He did the Russians too because the Russians gave the formula to the LSA. You, we, had nothing to do with it. If you know any of the kids, I’ll call their parents.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with it?”

“Nope, not a thing. Plus, I thought you loved the program; didn’t you get something like a million girlfriends on FB from it? They picked on you because they were jealous that they weren’t chosen. Come, let’s go downstairs and put some ice on your face.”

“You’re not mad?”

Hugging his son, Bob says, “Not at all. I love you. Let’s go downstairs, plus, your sister is worried she did something wrong because you yelled at her.”

The two walk downstairs, when Beth sees her brother she runs over to hug him, “Leon, are you OK?”