Chapter 9
INVASION
Plans to leave early New Year’s Day changed when they encountered problems with the installation of new electronics in Ruben’s F-16. Ruben and Beau waited patiently for the aircraft’s final checks. The caravan of cars and vans was to travel to San Antonio, pick-up a small arms expert, then continue to Del Rio and Laughlin Air Force Base and arrive before lunch. At the base, they were to conduct a seminar for those hopeful of entering the advanced flying program.
In the cold morning air, the group appeared to be in total disarray, and anything but ready. Some were nursing headaches or hangovers from the celebration the night before. Overnight, a dry front had moved across and sent a chill throughout the state. Their breath could be seen in the unusually dry air.
The only one ready for the planned 6 a.m. departure was Lieutenant Dean Blackman. The Indian from Oklahoma impressed Beau. A large man of spectacular proportions, Blackman was as quiet as he was big. He was a man of few words who spoke only when spoken to. The firmness of his handshake and the unrelenting gaze of his piercing black eyes gave one the feeling of a dove about to be pounced upon by a hawk. His rugged fine features gave no indication of an Indian heredity. Instantly Beau took a liking to the loner. Blackman would be a tremendous ally or a deadly enemy — nothing in between. Beau identified with the lieutenant.
They were two hours behind schedule even before they departed. The caravan would take three hours to San Antonio, an hour there, and another three to Del Rio. Last minute plans had also changed for Beau and Ruben. They would not arrive in Del Rio before noon. Instead they would leave a few hours after lunch but still arrive in Del Rio before the others.
During the two-hour wait, Robby Schmitt installed radios in all the cars. In Robby’s van was a radio that would enable him to communicate with Ruben and Beau during their fly-by. All of them thought it would be amusing and fun to listen in as the jets approached and passed. Although it was illegal, Robby had the capability of communicating with the jets. The flight pattern would take them to San Antonio where they would turn directly west for Del Rio.
The caravan pulled away from the Naval Air Station at 8:30 a.m. Robert Schmitt drove one van accompanied by Admiral Garrett, Mullholland, and Fitz. Mullholland and Schmitt seemed to hit it off at the New Year’s party. But now Mullholland hoped he could sleep off the remainder of his hangover in the back of the van.
Sunday drove her van and took Krysti, Justin, and Sully. Earlier Sully bid farewell to his wife, Natasha, who was to take a noon flight to El Paso to visit her sister. Deberg drove another van with Marix, Pickett, James, and Blackman. Deberg still had a grin on his face from the night before.
Tagging along for convenience were Brook and Danny in the pick-up, pulling the two bright red rail dune buggies. Jack, along with BJ, tagged along in Beau’s Corvette. At Del Rio they would leave the Corvette with Beau, then continue to their property near Big Bend where they would wait for their brother to arrive after he was discharged.
The only problems they encountered before leaving came from Robert Schmitt and Krysti. Neither had been able to access the Internet to retrieve their e-mail. Schmitt was really concerned and voiced his opinion. “It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen. Something strange is happening.”
Garrett laughed at them and said, “Hopefully you can survive for a few hours without the Internet?”
The trip went without a hitch to San Antonio. At Lackland they picked up the small arms expert, Lieutenant Chen Tang, who would ride with Garrett’s group to Del Rio. Chen Tang’s parents had escaped from China with him, and had gained their citizenship after they arrived. It had been Chen’s desire to serve in the American armed forces since he was a small child, something he never swayed from. Weapons had been his specialty. He still spoke with a heavy accent and was never able to rid himself of addressing men as “Mister” followed with their first name, except when addressing officers. For some reason his speech when in the presence of higher-ranking officers was perfect.
Schmitt noted that the problems with the Internet were worse.
They departed San Antonio just before noon, which would still put them in Del Rio well behind the original schedule.
Both men were in their flight suits. The scream of the jets forced them to shout to be heard. Lieutenant Tahar Zahir yelled to Sharafan. “It has been confirmed, Sir,” he screamed. “The American Air Force has been alerted and are on their way to intercept the decoys.”
“We are ready!”
“Yes… but we were unable to ground some of the passenger airliners.”
“Then shoot them down and replace them with their duplicates!”
“Yes sir,” said Zahir with a starched salute. He ran to the radio room to give final instructions. Sharafan waited until Zahir returned.
“Sir, everyone is ready. You will need to take care of one passenger jet that will be leaving from Corpus Christi and is headed for El Paso. We were unable to ground it. You will be on a direct intercept course. It must be taken out.”
Sharafan nodded. “Consider it done.” As an afterthought he asked, “Any reports on the American’s Internet?”
Zahir nodded. “The systems are crashing everywhere. The Internet should be down permanently in a matter of hours.”
“Good.” Both men went to their aircraft to make final preparations.
All around the airport, jets poured from the massive hangars like hornets from a damaged hive angry and ready to attack. Before the Americans could collect and distribute surveillance photos, the attack would be over. The passenger jets, filled with trained military, were already airborne matching predetermined commercial airline schedules and paths for those already sabotaged.
Sharafan climbed to the cockpit of his F-14 and glanced all around, making sure everything was ready before he strapped in.
They had very few of the modern jets, so the ones they had were given to the men with more experience. Most of the attacking forces were older jets from wars past. A few Korean F-86 Sabres dotted the field. Having barely missed the Korean War, but arriving in time for Vietnam, were many discarded F-4 Phantoms and A-4 Skyhawks.
The Skyhawk, an excellent aircraft, had been used to train American pilots at jet training schools because of its versatility and ability to duplicate enemy aircraft maneuvers. The jet had proven a handful for American pilots to shoot down in their own war games. As it was discarded for the more modern aircraft, Sharafan and his men found themselves in possession of hundreds of the deadly jets. He mused to himself, wondering what they would think about fighting an aircraft previously used only for war games, but which would now be in deadly pursuit of their adversary, the Americans. All aircraft were equipped with bombs and cannons.
There were many others like the ground-hugging A-6 Intruder attack jets. Leading the first wave were the more sophisticated aircraft of French Mirages, Russian Migs of various types, American swept wing aircraft F-111s and F-14 Tomcats, and only a few dozen of the F-15 Eagles and F-16 Falcons.
They were an inferior group, but they outnumbered the American air forces whose majority of aircraft was spread around the world. As inferior as they might be, they were about to strike with nearly 1300 fighter aircraft from an assorted number of strategic points south of the American borders. Nearly 500 would take flight from Cuba, a portion of which would help Sharafan in his efforts in Texas. Three hundred assault aircraft surrounded Sharafan with nearly 400 located in the matching airport south of California and 300 more waiting in predetermined places.
The total attack force was more than five times what the Americans managed in any one full day in the Operation Iraqi Freedom attack against Iraq. Much had been learned in that short war, and now it was all being used against the Americans — Americans that had proven to be creatures of habit.