“Sleeping, keeping to themselves and not talking,” he said, understanding dawning.
Mustafa nodded knowingly.
“But this is only one section of the plane,” said Mohammed.
“I’ve checked the others.”
“Do you think we’re all jihadists?”
Mustafa nodded.
“Oh my God, how many of us are there?” said Mohammed excitedly.
“I counted about five hundred and twenty.”
“I had no idea there’d be so many of us going to Salt Lake, he must have amassed a massive army,” said Mohammed proudly.
Mustafa shook his head in bewilderment but any words were drowned out by the announcement of severe turbulence and a requirement for all passengers to remain in their seats and fasten their safety belts.
Chapter 88
Major General Howard Carter spotted the Boeing 747–400 first; it had just cleared Iceland. He signaled to his wingman, who had been scanning the sky to the south, that they would go up and over. With the Boeing flying like them at five hundred miles per hour, the closing speed as they hurtled towards each other was nearing one thousand miles per hour. Both pilots pulled back and lifted their jets higher into the sky going invisible, at least to the passengers below, over the United Airlines Boeing 747.
A quick turn and thrust of power and the two jets pulled in behind and just out of sight of the windows and, more importantly, the turbulence being created by the massive airliner.
Being one of the aircraft that might be carrying the man who had assassinated the Vice President and masterminded the attempt to spread a deadly virus across the United States, the United Airlines flight from Frankfurt bound for Dulles was a tempting target. However, amongst the jihadist passengers, one man stood out for Major General Howard Carter. He was one of the terrorists who had been instrumental in the 9/11 attacks and had been identified in the emails from his photo. He was the mastermind behind the plot to attack the Twin Towers. He was a man who had seldom seen daylight in the many years since the attack but had surfaced once again to threaten the United States. With a pick of the targets, Major General Howard Carter had, for once in his life, put his personal choice first and mission second.
He pressed the power button on the small TV screen that had been retrofitted especially for the mission. Within a thousand yards, the TV was able to receive, thanks to some wizardry beyond his technical knowledge, the video feed from the aircraft. He checked the map as the TV screen remained blank. They were still a hundred miles from the target location. He checked his speed and heading, ensuring they were staying just out of sight of even the most observant of the passengers on board the aircraft.
His screen burst into life, relaying what was being shown on the United flight ahead of him.
The grave image of the President of the United States of America, standing proudly behind the presidential podium, filled his screen. Unfortunately, the screen provided no sound. But he knew, from the President’s image, that it was a fifteen-minute countdown. He hit the timer and watched it click slowly and painfully down towards zero. He checked the map, looking to see where they’d be in fifteen minutes, another one hundred twenty-five miles out to sea and over some of the deepest and most unreachable areas of the world’s oceans.
When the timer hit zero, he signaled once to his wingman and they both powered forwards, slowly coming alongside the passenger jet and the helpless and defenseless passengers. Their slow progression ensured that every passenger had a clear view of the two powerful symbols of American might.
Howard Carter looked across and, as expected, panic had ensued. Windows were being hammered and soundless shouts of abuse were hurled at him. He checked his map as he drew level with the Boeing’s cockpit. The location was perfect. Everything had been timed to perfection. With a wave to the Boeing, he pulled up and over looped back behind the massive jet. He had spent a long time thinking how he would approach this moment. The kindest action was to fire four missiles straight into the body of the plane. Whoever the explosions didn’t kill instantly would be unconscious from a lack of oxygen and dead long before they hit the water forty thousand feet below.
That was precisely the reason the only weapon available to him was his M61 Vulcan 20mm Gatling gun. He had specifically asked for no missiles to be loaded just in case, in a moment of compassion, he took mercy and opted for the quick and painless option.
The first burst of fire destroyed the majority of the right wing. The plane lurched to the right, bringing the left wing round and into his sights. Another burst destroyed that wing and the Boeing tipped forward and plunged towards the sea below. With not one bullet having touched the fuselage, the Boeing would remain intact and its passengers unharmed until it hit the water, some seven and a half miles below, or ten point five miles, adding the distance to the ocean floor.
Chapter 89
Frankie increased the volume on her TV to hear President Mitchell speak. “My fellow Americans,” he began. She could hear the same message with a slight delay coming from her mom’s TV three thousand miles away.
“I’ll call you when he’s done,” she said, and hung up.
“As you are painfully aware, we have been living under the threat of an attack by militant jihadists that would threaten the very core of our nation. These men claim they act for Allah but no god would ever condone their actions, and nor do the 99.99 % of law abiding and peaceful Muslims who practice a faith that, at its core, is peace loving.”
After a pause, he resumed speaking. “Nick Geller was man that I trusted. A man I believed was acting in the interests of our country when he visited the White House a few weeks ago. How wrong I was, how wrong we were. A man we trained turned on us and used that training to evade and destroy us.
“Today, Nick Geller launched an attack to devastate our country. An attack so heinous in its plan, it’s hard to believe that anyone could be consumed by that amount of hatred. The plan to bring the fight to our streets and a virus to our people is so grotesque it’s hard to comprehend the enormity of its impact on our nation. Today, the proud men and women who fight to keep us safe every second of the day, have once again prevailed.”
President Mitchell paused to let the enormity of his words sink in.
“The nightmare of the virus that had hung over us is over, the nightmare of men running through our streets strapped with bombs is over. Nick Geller, along with many hundreds of jihadists, is, as we speak, languishing with the deadly virus at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. A flight bound for America and loaded with virus-infected jihadists was intercepted and destroyed by our military.”
“Many of you, I know, will be concerned for loved ones who may have been on the flight. Please rest assured that all families affected by this action have already been informed and support measures put in place. If you do still want to check the status of a passenger, a phone number will be displayed at the end of this broadcast. It is automated and all that is required is for you to give the name of the individual. If they were on board, you will be transferred to a support center. If not, you will be informed that everything is fine. It is never easy being President and being entrusted with the security and welfare of hundreds of millions of American citizens. Some days, you have to make decisions for the greater good. Today is one of those days. We have struck a blow that will make the world a safer place. Tomorrow will be safer than it was today. As President, all I can promise you is that I will do whatever is needed to make sure that the day after that and the days that follow are safer still. God bless America.”