Invasion USA 3 - The Battle for Survival (31 page)

“I totally understand your situation, Peter,” replied Preston. “There are millions of lost people out there in the world right now, and without any outside help, they have no chance to survive. We took in an orphan Carlos picked up in New York, Little Beth, and she is currently happy in North Carolina commanding the detachment of guards looking after us.” Peter smiled at the description. “There is no way any of us can just let a defenseless child be left behind. Clint is a great kid. He’s a little older than Beth and I’m sure he would fit in. If not, there is a refugee camp at the Air Force base to our south where many grieving parents are located until who knows when. Let’s ask him if he minds coming with us, but you never know if he might prefer to stay with you guys.

“Another consideration for Clint is the surgery he still needs. Hospital capabilities all across the country are unknown right now. We do not know which hospitals, if any, are completely or partially operational, or if they can handle anything more complicated than out-patient procedures, or even if they have electric power. We are having a meeting about hospitals in California when we get there. Emergency care for injured people is the most important priority in the electrical upgrades right now. For the present time, emergency care is available only at the Air Force bases where simple emergency operations are being performed. Once things improve and we have electricity, we have good contacts to schedule Clint’s last operation. We also have a growing airport in North Carolina to interest the boy who seems as crazy about flying as Sally was as a child.”

“Clint being around brings back good memories of our own little Sally,” Peter agreed. “Let’s discuss the opportunity with him after dinner. And, Preston, thank you!”

Over an early dinner that night, Lee’s satellite phone suddenly rang, which caused the table to immediately go silent. Communications had become a real and important luxury. It was Carlos reporting in. Lee was asked to put it on speakerphone so that the base commander and the rest at the table could hear.

“Carlos to friends and family: Girlfriend and I are safe at our end station. We found each other a little later than expected due to a situation I tried to get visual on but did not have enough fuel to complete my mission. I will relay the same information to Patterson Key after this call.

“A big storm is coming in from the south and I arrived at my first turn point fifteen minutes later than scheduled because I ran into strong headwinds—considerably higher than the fifty-knot headwinds at low altitude we had forecast Then the crosswind pushed me north and I compensated by flying in a south-easterly direction. At the location we were meant to radio in from, there were clouds of smoke over thirty miles wide, which forced me to fly higher up at flight level 6,000 above ground. It was like a fog. There was no radio response from our neighbors. I turned southwards and got in pretty close to where the smoke was coming from. I could see the military base, or what was left of it. Every building and all aircraft—I counted a dozen or so of different types—were smoldering. The dark clouds were from the still-burning gas tanks, two big ones, and by then I needed to head home. I could see no moving people down there, good or bad. They must have heard our engines when we were overhead. Super Tweet and I met up over the coast and we landed on fumes. I was surprised on landing to see three undamaged F-5s on the tarmac. They were foreign air force jets. We parked next to them and were informed that there had been an attack by around 2,000 civilians with rockets, mortars, and machine guns, all mobile with over a hundred vehicles. There was a scramble to get airborne and two of the F-5s were hit on takeoff. One of the foreign pilots here has a cousin who flies for our Air Force out of this base and they considered that at least there could be fuel for them. They landed here and are awaiting orders from their superiors. I’m sure Patterson Key will give the pilots orders.

“Also, Lee, your uncle Mo called me again to tell me that he has left Honduras and asked where he should he go. I told him to go to hell… but you have his number; call him and tell him to bug off. I’ll see you guys tomorrow. And Clint, your taxi is coming home, buddy. Out.”

There wasn’t much else to do or say, except that Lee decided not to call his uncle. Mo could go where Carlos said he should go. After dinner Preston pulled Martie aside for a private talk.

“I’d hate to be Carlos’ enemy,” stated Martie. “Hell must be filling up fast. He certainly doesn’t like that Mo fellow.”

“Martie, we need to talk about Clint,” began Preston. “Sally’s parents are worried about looking after him. They feel that they are a little too old and are worried that they won’t live up to his expectations. They would prefer if he left with us and we can drop him off at the refugee camp in Seymour Johnson. What do you think?”

“He is not going to Seymour Johnson, he can stay with us. Little Beth would do well looking after a brother, and it will keep her from bossing around the poor soldiers. Plus, I’ve been thinking that they would make a great team. I was actually going to ask Sally’s parents how they would feel about his coming home with us. How’s that, lover boy!” stated Martie enthusiastically imitating her friend Sally. The issue decided, he gave her a big hug. “Just remember, future husband, our family is growing rapidly and you haven’t even got me to the altar yet!”

“Clint,” Peter began, “we are driving back to Flagstaff tomorrow, once the aircraft leave for California.” Poor Clint’s face dropped like a stone, but he said nothing and tried to keep his composure. “We are giving you a choice and you need to make up your mind. Clint, it will be hard for Sally’s mother and me to look after you. We are worried what the future at our ranch will be. Preston and Martie have offered to take you back with them to North Carolina. They have armed guards and a young lady who I know will enjoy meeting you, and dogs. We will meet often in the future because there will always be aircraft flying between the East Coast and Arizona, as long as our Sally is flying. We think you would like being in North Carolina; it’s closer to where you can get your surgery, and there will be a lot of flying to keep you interested. Now, your choice is, do you want to come home with us? Or, do you prefer to live with Preston and Martie on the other side of the country? If you decide to go to North Carolina, we promise we will see you often. Clint, don’t be scared to say what you want, but we would feel better if you stayed in North Carolina.”

Clint was silent for a moment. For a young boy the decision had many implications “If I give you my address in Phoenix, will you tell any of my family where I am, Peter?”

“I will make sure the military base in your area checks your address every now and again. I’m sure Preston or Carlos can get word to the base commander. Also, if they can’t, I will check your neighborhood on my way to Yuma. I’m sure we will be visiting when Sally flies in.”

“Thank you, Peter, I understand that I am a problem to you. And I will go to North Carolina… as long as I can see you guys again.”

“You definitely will see us again, young man,” Sally’s mother, Marcie, responded warmly. “Now I have two children to visit and if I have to fly to see them both, I will.”

It was done and a sigh of relief passed through many. Clint was happy to have a larger family, his only worry that his real family was looking for him.

Carlos and Sally returned, their job done. Her parents hugged her, said their farewells to everybody, and the aircraft were prepared for the trip north to the Napa Valley.

Martie had a funny feeling something was wrong and she was anxious to leave. Rain was coming in from the west as three of the four aircraft taxied out. Carlos was first with Clint in the right hand seat as promised, and Lee in back with Clint’s wheelchair closed and packed next to him. The rear gun equipment had been closed down by the base crew and the gas tanks were full.

Preston and Martie were behind him as he reached the end of the runway; Sally was still saying goodbye to her friends. She didn’t want to travel too slowly and wanted to give Carlos a twenty-minute lead.

For Clint this was heaven. The DC-3 powered itself off the runway and climbed into rain as it arrived over the airfield. It was heavy and it took Carlos 5,000 feet before they climbed out of the dark clouds and into bright sunlight, Martie and Preston overtaking him a few minutes later.

Sally caught up with them within an hour as they flew over Bakersfield, she talking over the radio to Edwards, telling them that they would be visited next.

Slowly they descended into the Napa area, and picked up Michael’s voice over the radio.

“
Good to hear your voices, guys. Temperature 49 degrees, wind coming in from the northwest, ten to fifteen miles an hour, you are clear for runway 95, a little shorter than yours, Preston, at 2,545 feet. Remember, the airstrip is dirt, Sally, so be careful. It
’
s currently damp, so no dust
.”

They went in, Sally and Maggie first; the jet needed as much room as possible and Sally needed to be careful braking; she couldn’t use full reverse thrust. Carlos went in next and he also used up the entire runway. For Martie and Preston, the landing was easy. All the aircraft would stay outside as there was no hangar space; the only hangar was full of bits and pieces of electronics on dozens of tables. They parked in a line next to Sally’s own Pilatus, the aircraft Michael was using, and Martie was quick to climb out and run to her father.

“Grandpa is very poorly today. He has been over-working and over-doing it since we got back. I ordered him to lie down in the house.” Martie rushed over to the beautiful farmhouse and ran inside.

She found him in bed, white-faced and weak. Her grandfather had always been such a strong man and this was the first time in her life she saw him as he was, an old and tired man. He lifted up his hand to her, smiling and relieved that she had arrived.

“I’m sorry, my girl,” he whispered, and she had to lean forward to hear him. “All this electronics meltdown is so exciting. I only wish that I was twenty years younger and more able to tackle this enormous project.”

“You need your rest, Grandpa,” Martie replied. “You cannot save the world by yourself at your age. You have two generations of Von Roebels to help you do it.”

“These times are so exciting! I’d hate to miss all the potential new discoveries,” he continued. “What we accomplish in the next few years will change the whole world’s engineering and electronics fields. Don’t you realize that?” He was getting excited and Martie put her hand on his forehead to calm him down.

“Grandpa, you have had an exciting life all your life. This is just the next project.

“But we can now redesign the world electronically; we can follow the important routes we should have gone down decades ago—find out what is at the bottom of the sea, discover what is in space and on Mars, determine a sustainable future on this planet. Instead, we allowed the false pretenses of Hollywood and politics to do it for us, creating such an unreal and plastic future. Wars will come to a halt. For the first time in mankind’s existence on this earth, killing each other will not block our path to forward discovery. We are on the brink of a new world. Don’t you see that, Martie?”

She agreed with him.

Wolfgang Von Roebels was a man who had worked hard and learned much in his many years on earth, but later that night he passed away, just before midnight with his son and granddaughter by his side. He went peacefully, the two most important people in his life with him, and a smile on his lips.

He was right, it was a new world and he knew his time had come, leaving explicit instructions that he would like to be buried on the farm and by his vineyards. There was wood on the farm, enough to make a simple coffin and the next day he was buried in his place of choice.

Wolfgang Von Roebels was right—it was a new world; there were no papers to sign, no will to read, no doctor to sign off on the death. Just a simple, old-fashioned passage; loving family and friends burying an old man near his house, and no authorities needed to know any more.

Both Michael and Martie had mentally prepared for this time. He was an old man and lived a long and fruitful life. Time on the farm slowed and Martie welcomed the support of a new man in her life: a young boy in a wheelchair who held her hand through the short ceremony while the grown men covered the coffin with dirt.

It took a week before the people on the wine farm began to get back to real life. Maggie flew back to Edwards with Carlos a day earlier, he returning to accompany Preston back to the East Coast. The Mustang was a one-seater. Carlos was also needed in Washington and returned to the farm to tell them that they needed to get going. Sally, also needing to get across the country and get back to helping fly C-130s, left early the next morning for Hill to refuel.

Martie wanted to stay on and be with her father for a while, and Lee offered to get involved with the engineering work. Preston suggested it would be a good idea for him to return to his farm; Little Beth had been in command of the soldiers there for too long now and it was time for her to get new troops under her authority, namely Clinton Jefferson Busch.

Preston and Carlos flew out leaving Martie’s Mustang on the apron, next to the Pilatus for company. Clint would be Carlos’ copilot; they flew to Hill to refuel and then across to Preston’s farm, arriving after midnight. Sally had said goodbye to Carlos and crew a couple of hours earlier over the radio, just before descending into Andrews.

A double click on the radio and the runway lights came on. There was nobody to guide them in and they didn’t need any help. Preston radioed to wake the guards in the hangar and they gave them the only information he needed: absolutely no wind.

Preston turned his P-51 in front of the hangar door and cut the engine. He jumped out as Carlos taxied up in Isabella and parked next to the Mustang. The temperature felt as warm as the West Coast, somewhere in the low forties. Three soldiers came up to greet Preston, told him that all was well and that Little Beth, who was fast asleep, was fine but missing them.