“We work directly for the Principal Deputy Director of DIA.”
There was a deadening pause. Then, a smile from Captain Gabe Peoples as he looked at everyone, especially Emily.
“Calvin Burns?”
“Yes. Yeah, Calvin Burns,” answered Mark, nodding his head up and down. “You know him?”
“Oh, why didn’t you just say so? I’ve known Mr. Burns for years. We’ve done plenty of work with him. It was always real world, no training requests like this one, but, yeah. Sure, we can do this,” replied Gabe Peoples.
“Great. Thanks for the support. As I shared earlier, this is Air Force Captain Ford Stevens,” as Mark pointed to him at the table. “He is our military pilot assigned to DIA. Ford has some one hundred jumps… closer to two hundred? Either way, he needs wing suit experience. Needs to learn to fly laterally for an insertion.”
“Sounds interesting. An insertion, eh? Maybe you need our guys on this? You know what we are capable of in the Teams, right? I could assign a platoon, you know, to help,” offered Gabe.
Part of it was out of kindness, and part of it was relevancy. The Teams were always in competition with other high-speed units like Delta, Army Rangers, U.S. Marine Corps Force Recon, and sometimes, even the FBI Hostage Rescue Team. Then, depending on the sensitivity of the mission, Delta Force and Team Six are in the mix. Everyone competes for the missions, which translates to competing for the money. The unit that gets the nod, gets the work, then gets future money out of tight budgets for cool gear, cooler training, and travel expenses. Even in a non-profit military world, there was a fight for cash.
“We appreciate your offer, Gabe, especially because our organizations work so closely, but this is a relatively sensitive mission. There are some sensitive and unique State Department twists to this op, and only Ford is participating. Solo,” Emily shared while grinning at him, hoping he would back-off while she used her beauty to their advantage. She knew the pitch from the special operations boys because they always wanted to get involved. Even back at home in England, the SAS were the same.
“So be it. I understand,” replied Gabe. He looked at his green covered, bound notebook for a second. “Let me make a call. We may have a jump going this afternoon. Hang on a few minutes, will ya?” Gabe got up from the table, left the room on his phone, and talked in the foyer area for ten minutes or so.
Gabe returned to where the others will still sitting. “You’re in luck. We have two jumps going out today. First one is a MH-47D Chinook water jump with the 160th SOAR. One of the platoons is taking “Gunnar” the dog out, plus some boats. That involves an oil tanker ship takedown. Not too sure that helps you. Second jump is a C-17 Globemaster to a both a water and land LZ. No, sorry, a C-130. High altitude, low opening. We never discussed if the mission dictated that or not, but I guess we could always discuss it with the flight crew in the brief… of, ah, of what you wanted,” Gabe explained.
“Thank you, sir. Let me think for a moment, and see if it fits the profile of our op,” Ford said, as he wrote in his notebook with a pencil.
Ford considered his options with jumping for the day. He was calculating the altitude he would come out the rear of the Gulfstream, which was most likely already in the descent to land. Tough to judge from a meeting room where they couldn’t talk in front of the SEAL. By Ford’s calculations, they would be at least 45,000 feet and in a descent. The G650 would need at about 100 miles to descend from that altitude. Take into account the wing suit that could laterally fly about 10 miles. So, he thought, he would have to have the Gulfstream make an approach to its destination that flew within at least 10 miles of where Wu was going to be.
“Sir, if it’s not too much trouble, could we chat in private for a moment?” Ford asked.
“Absolutely. I’ll be right out here. Take your time,” Gabe said, as he walked out of the room and shut the door.
Ford explained his math, and used a white board to draw out what he was thinking.
“Wu’s text said he was thinking of an east coast airport. That matches what we have come up with for the aircraft carrier course of action. But we need to come up with specific airports, because it will make a difference on the jump math. If the Gulfstream is heading to airport x, and Wu is way out here at airport y, it will never work.
Mark got out his iPad and pulled open Google Earth, remembering what Emily said in the car during the Hilton Head trip. He opened it to eastern China, and zoomed in and out. Both Emily and Ford sat on either side of him, looking at his screen.
“From what I see so far, one option could be to head south to the Bay of Bengal. Pick up the carrier down south here, to the east of India. Sail home like that,” Mark said, pointing to that option on the screen.
“What about down here, off Okinawa?” Emily asked.
“Well. Hmmm. Another option would be to still take Wu’s idea of an east coast airport,” as Mark paused. No one said anything. “Wait, here’s a scenario. The Corning jet routinely flies to Beijing, right? Beijing is 90 miles north of Tianjin. Simple… on the way in to Beijing, you jump out. Okay, okay, let’s do this. On approach to Beijing, the Gulfstream will be overhead Tianjin, or close to it, on the descent. Copy?”
“Yeah, keep going.”
“We ask Wu to bring his jet into Tianjin. Ford, you jump out as the Gulfstream as you’re descending and into Tianjin. Corning jet continues to Beijing. Easy. You meet Wu in Tianjin,” Mark explained.
“Wu did say in his text that he could fake a maintenance issue. Force the jet in there,” Ford paused for a moment. “We are just going to bring her in there in broad daylight, though?”
“The airports are aligned pretty well. Even if the winds aren’t correct for landing to the north, the Corning crew could ask for that runway anyway, then circle around to another runway,” Mark thought.
Emily spoke up. “You do have a point, Ford. Why would Wu want to bring a secret jet in there, into a crowded airport? It will have to be at night. Maybe if it’s at night, the confusion of a commercial airport could work in our favor,” Emily suggested. “How about, Ford, once you land, you create some type of disturbance. A smoke and mirrors diversion that focuses the entire airport to look in one area, while you swap seats and fly off with Wu in another area. What would work?”
“Hmm. What would work for a diversion?” Mark asked.
“Got it. I could start up an aircraft, and taxi it into something to cause a ground mishap?” Ford offered.
“No, that requires keys, potentially exposing you. Also requires you to escape out of another jet without you getting caught in the fire,” Mark said, shooting down the idea.
Emily perked up again. “Hey, got it. Got it. This may….work. We give you a hand-held laser that is normally used to identify targets when using night vision goggles. We get a strong one from the boys in R&D, like a Class 4 science fiction kind. The strong shite. Invisible to the naked eye but creates a shite storm. We get one that creates heat. You get yourself in a position to squirt the laser at the sprinklers inside an aircraft hangar. This sets off their fire suppression system, you know, white foam, with the fire retardant. It’ll blow millions of gallons out into the hangar and ramp. Complete bloody chaos. All sorts of havoc,” Emily suggested.
“Girl. You still got it going on. Another hell of an idea,” Mark told her. “Awesome.”
“How big is this laser?” Ford asked, thinking he’d have to have a big backpack full of electronics and batteries.