Nami said, “Yes, pull it down.” With a jerk of the control wheel, Jarrah turned the aircraft on its back and sent it into a deadly plunge all the while he and Nami screamed, “Allahu Akbar!”
With a speed in excess of 580 miles per hour, United Airlines 93 crashed into a field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, at 10:03 a.m. They were more than 100 miles short of their target.
At 10:28 a.m. the World Trade Center North Tower collapsed.
Confusion was success and America was confused. The events were almost impossible to believe and came with a staggering nightmarish intensity — a nightmare that filled the American landscape, only this nightmare played out in real life.
No one associated with Red Eagle had any way of knowing how successful their attack had been until much later. Information about the crashes was agonizingly slow in reaching the authorities in control. All four airliners had crashed before anyone took any affinitive actions. The President and his czars had little knowledge of the events that transpired.
Ironically many federal agencies knew nothing about the crash until the news media broadcast video of the North Tower smoldering. Ever alert, CNN was on the spot transmitting the horrifying video when minutes later they caught the second airliner crashing into the South Tower.
It was after 10:30 a.m. before any action to stop air traffic occurred. Flight 181 was delayed and still connected to the gate. Information of the tragic incidents had forced the airport to shut down flights temporarily.
The American Airlines flight was still on hold at the gate when the pilot made an announcement over the intercom. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we have disturbing news that a plane just hit one of the Twin Towers in the World Trade Center.”
People laughed. One passenger snidely said, “I don’t see why they let those small planes buzz those buildings.” A few laughed; some like Sharafan shook their heads in agreement.
A moment later the pilot made another disturbing announcement. “I’m sad to announce that a second passenger airliner just crashed into the other Twin Tower. I’ll have more information in a minute.”
A few cried, some showed fear and confusion. Everyone started talking at once. A few tossed out wild guesses and a few gave their personal theories as to what had happened and who had done it. Sharafan tried to act as surprised as the others.
An older woman behind Sharafan ventured, “Do you think it was China attacking?”
In perfect English Sharafan assured her, “I’m sure it wasn’t China.” Who should know better that he?
Someone said, “We arrested those drug runners from Colombia. Do you suppose they did it?”
“What about Russia?” guessed another.
A middle-aged man stood up. “It’s none of those. Think about it. Russia and China need our business. Whoever did this committed suicide. No drug runner is willing to commit suicide.” Sharafan tried to hide his smile. The man continued. “The last time something happened like this we all pointed our fingers at the Middle East, but it turned out to be an American. Still if I had to venture a wild guess, I would say it was some group from a Middle Eastern country. I’m sure you remember the 1993 bombing of the Twin Towers?” He paused to get their attention, which he had, including Sharafan’s. “The man behind that attack was a man called Osama bin Laden. Again, I’m probably wrong, but if I could pick someone who might have been responsible for this thing, he would be my choice.”
Very astute, you will find out very soon, thought Sharafan with a slight smile. He decided that when they took off he would tell this man just how correct he was — before he killed him.
The pilot made another announcement. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we have more bad news. A passenger airliner has crashed into the Pentagon.” There were gasps and cries as he continued. “The president has ordered all planes grounded. I’m sorry but this flight has been cancelled. You will need to go inside and make arrangements for an alternate flight.”
Sharafan made himself appear as upset as all the other passengers. President Bush had grounded all airlines after the crashes. But it was too late, the damage had been done.
The airport was in bedlam. Sharafan and the others exited the planes unmolested and unnoticed. All five of the terrorists made their separate ways to a safe haven, all the while taking time to catch the video broadcast throughout the terminals. Everyone watched in horror, unable to turn away from the ghastly sight.
None noticed the smirks and even smiles on the five men as they made their way away from the airport. Red Eagle had been a success and had made its mark on American history and the world.
Sharafan shook himself from his thoughts, and smiled as General Navarro finished with the questions from the briefing, demanding everyone’s attention.
With confidence the general added his own personal comments. “The bleeding heart Americans have helped our cause when they refused to make English the national language. Remember, hundreds of thousands of Americans do not speak English. Since all of you are versed in Spanish and English, it will be easy to sway them to our side. If they do not understand English, you will be able to convert them under the pretense they are helping America.” Navarro laughed. “In the end they will join us anyway. That is also why you will be wearing uniforms similar to American forces. All the markings on your uniforms will be in English.”
In mock seriousness Sharafan said, “There will be only one thing that could possibly prevent us from completing our invasion.”
Concerned, all the men turned to him to find the reason they surely expected Sharafan to know. He grinned wide and continued. “We will no longer have CNN to warn us of the Americans’ actions. Everyone present burst out laughing.
General Navarro raised his glass and tried to quiet his men. He smiled sadistically and knowingly, and then toasted. “Millions are poised and waiting at the border to take their new lands.”
Chapter 8
NEW YEAR’S EVE
The atmosphere was tense at best, but the women eased the situation, and Marix reluctantly agreed Ruben was justified in inviting his friend. After dinner they were to continue their celebration at the officers’ party, bringing in the New Year, 2017. The women had secretly decided if the night went poorly, they were going to hang Ruben. Luckily for him, he had no knowledge of the agreement and felt everything was going perfectly.
Marix had made reservations at an elegant nightspot in the downtown portion of Corpus Christi, resting atop one of the many buildings with a view overlooking the bay. The definitive features of the popular docks were very distinguishable in the bright lights surrounding the man-made piers. Because of their shapes two were called the T-heads and one the L-head. All three piers were lined with pleasure boats, sailboats, and shrimp boats. Two floating restaurants were busily taking patrons around the bay. In the distance, the 200-foot harbor bridge sparkled in the night sky.
They rode a glass elevator to the thirtieth floor. The view was spectacular. The three men were dressed in their military best.
Sunday wore white chiffon trimmed in black. The dress hung loosely about her waist to afford room and comfort for the baby. A sparkling pearl necklace, accented with a piece of black coral between each pearl, hung elegantly around her slender neck against her naturally brown skin. Her dark hair was pulled tight and rolled into a bun atop her head.
In complete contrast, Krysti’s outfit was a fine skintight black satin dress trimmed in gold with a gold waistband that made her long auburn hair stunning. The dress gathered toward her right side showing her leg far above her knee. Cut wide and open in the back, it formed a V in the front making the gold and diamond cross stand out boldly.