Zero Point (37 page)

“Say hello to El Diablo for me, Mr. Burr,” she yelled down to him, leaving Alton Burr, the ACLU Lawyer who would run for Congress and beat God, to his fate.

Maria clutched the backpack and crawled back to Eli Turner. With her eyes now closed, she held on tightly to Eli as the momentous trembling of the slide slowly progressed. Burr’s tortured screams mercifully ended after the first few minutes. Then suddenly, the trembling began to cease. Miraculously, the tremendous island-sized landmass stopped
its progression to the sea. In the unexpected silence, she opened her eyes and smiled to see Eli looking up at her.

“Don’t forget my hat,” he said weakly. Eli smiled back at her and coughed as the stain on his blood soaked shirt began to spread further.

“God forbid, you’d lose your hat,” she said tearfully, reaching behind him and picking up the elder Turner’s outback hat and placing it gently on his head. “Do you think you can manage walking?” Maria asked as she opened his shirt and stuffed her bandana onto the wound. This caused him to wince in pain.

“Not if you keep doing that,” he managed to reply in protest.

“I’ve got to stop the bleeding, Eli. I’m sorry,” she said as she got up to look around at what was left of the lava tube. The dust was starting to settle and she could now see the magnitude of what had just occurred. Immediately, she realized just how precarious their position was.

The ancient lava tube was now part of a ledge that ran the entire length of the Cumbre Vieja. It was the demarcation point where the western flank separated and began its slide to the sea, then astonishingly ceased its downward trek. They were now on a ledge that overlooked a gaping three-hundred foot drop, with no way up or down. She saw that the huge hand-shaped monolith where the rope was once tied had tumbled down the side of the caldera. It shattered into a million pieces, taking with it their only way off the ledge.

Maria hesitated for a moment when she heard a sound coming from overhead. She finally saw the blue and white Bell Ranger that transported them to La Palma coming up the rise. She began yelling and waving frantically at it. The pilot just barely escaped from the plateau when the shock wave had begun. He assumed that his party had been killed by the massive quake but came up the ridge line to look for survivors. He could not see Maria and Eli on the ledge, so he continued flying east to the safety of Tenerife.

“There goes our ride, Maria,” Eli said weakly, looking at the sleek Ranger as it headed out of sight. “What now?”

Maria fumbled through the backpack searching for anything that could help them. Pulling Burr’s cell phone out of the backpack, she smiled. “We’ll have to call for a cab.”

After dialing the number, she looked up at the sky. As the late day sun began its slow descent to the west over the Atlantic Ocean, the horizon turned a crimson red. Tons of ash still belched skyward from the Cumbre Vieja caldera as its magma core slowly began to cool; receding back into the Earth.

30

B
ehind the loading platform outside of the Bishamon facility, Captain Saune and his remaining men continued their desperate firefight with Yagato Osama’s Yakuza soldiers. They had not made any progress since their helicopter drop-off earlier. The situation was dire and without a miracle, Saune knew in his heart that they were going to die.

Saune stood and fired the last 40mm grenade from his rifle launcher, but with no luck. Osama’s men were well-entrenched high above in the cave entrance. Two more of Saune’s men lie dead as the soldiers fired unmercifully down upon the bullet-ridden metal platform. He and his sergeant huddled with their backs to the platform as another barrage of bullets whizzed over them. Both were down to their last ammo clips.

“Captain,” Sergeant Ortega yelled above the rain of bullets spraying overhead. “I don’t think we’re gonna’ get out of this one alive. Do you think we should surrender?”

“These guys don’t take prisoners, Ortega,” Captain Saune yelled back, resolving that this was to be their last stand. He only hoped that Turner and Samuel would succeed in their mission inside the complex.

“Captain Saune,” a voice came through on his earpiece, which he knew to be one of the men over by the boulder. “We’re running low on ammo here. Two of the men are already out,” he reported anxiously. Saune hit the transmitter of his radio VHF replying, “Conserve your ammo and make every shot count.”

He then slumped back, low against the platform, knowing that it was a hopeless situation and he was to blame for the deaths of these good men. Hitting the transmitter again, he spoke. “Gentlemen, whatever happens, I want you all to know that you fought with valor and it has been a privilege to serve with all of you.” He closed his eyes, feeling death’s grasp coming closer with each moment.

Suddenly, from the earpieces they wore came a crackling sound. A new voice boomed over each man’s VHF link.

“To the combatants on the ground, this is Colonel Kyle Sears of the United States Marine Corps. What is your present situation, and can I be of assistance? Over….”

All the embattled Tenerife National Guardsmen cheered with elated hearts at hearing those words. Captain Saune wiped a tear of relief from his eye, smiled at the sergeant, and hit him joyfully on the back.

“Colonel Sears, we’ve got some men down here that are real glad to hear your voice,” Saune said. “I am Captain Rafael Saune of the Tenerife National Guard. We are in a desperate situation here, Colonel. We're pinned down below the Bishamon facility on its western flank. Our opponents
control the high ground above us in a cave opening beneath the facility. We cannot advance and our ammo is low. Over....”

“Roger that, Captain,” Sears responded. “I have an ETA of three minutes coming from your northeast. We have your VHF signal pinpointed and on our screen. Just keep your heads down, gentlemen, ‘cause when I get there, I promise all hell’s gonna break loose. Over....”

“Roger that, Colonel, but please be advised that the combatants in the tunnel entrance have ground to air missiles. Over....”

“Not a problem, Captain. Thanks for the heads up. Sears, out….”

The AH-1F Cobra, armed to the teeth with its front-mounted, three-barreled, 20mm Gatling cannon and side-mounted 70 mm rockets, roared up the western slope of Mt. Teide in the direction of the melee. Its GPS guidance was up-linked to the USS
.
Hazleton
, which was now a mere twenty-five nautical miles off the northwest coast of La Palma and approaching at full speed.

At that moment, the USS
Milford
was already preparing its deadly Tomahawk Block III TLAM missile for launch. It now awaited the final inertial guidance programming that would maneuver the 1440kg missile over water. Once the five and a half meter rocket, loaded with 450kg payload of explosives, made landfall, the Terrain Contour Matching (TERCOM)
system would engage and direct the weapon over ground contours to its target.

“I’m going hot on the master arm switch, Ward,” Sears said to his co-pilot gunner. He then toggled the weapons control switch, giving Ward the rocket and gun control. Pressing the zone arm switch, the rocket management system display unit came to life and armed the Cobra’s complement of side-mounted missiles.

“Roger, Colonel. I set the PEN-M dial to SQ and have green on the board,” he reported, setting the penetration and detonation of the rockets to
super-quick
mode on the rocket management system display unit. “Heads up display is powered and set in normal mode, Colonel.”

“Okay, Lieutenant, here we go,” Sears said as he brought his Cobra down from the summit of Mt. Teide and followed its ridge toward the lower slopes.

Cruising at an altitude of one thousand feet above the desolate landscape, Sears could clearly make out the domes of the astronomical observatory on the higher ridge. He could see, farther south, a lone building sitting on the ridge of an old caldera. He scanned the surrounds of the complex and saw the thick black smoke from the weapons’ fire. He knew, without a doubt, he’d found his target.

“Get ready, Lieutenant Ward,” he ordered to his CPG. “I’m going to stand off just to the northwest and let you acquire.”

“Roger, Colonel,” Ward replied as the sleek Cobra pitched upward and came to a standstill, hovering within view of the Bishamon facility. “Colonel, I see the cave entrance, but can’t make out where the friendlies are.”

“Hang on, Lieutenant; let me give you some altitude,” Sears replied, lifting the craft higher above the ridge.

“Got ‘em, Colonel,” Ward said in a calm tone. “They’re about one hundred fifty feet below the cave. A little close for my likings, but they should be alright.”

“Let’s do it,” Sears said with finality, banking the attack Cobra in toward the plateau like a bird of prey.

Captain Saune was the first of his men to see and hear the Cobra coming in over the ridge as bullets whizzed past their precarious position behind the platform. Sergeant Ortega had taken a wound to the left arm from shrapnel as one of the many rockets launched against them exploded just to their left.

“Heads down, men,” Saune yelled over the VHF transmitter as he and his fellow guardsmen dove to the rocky, dirt-strewn ground.

The Cobra deftly swung into a direct line of sight with the lava tube entrance, hovering above Saune and his men as dust and debris from the rotor wash swirled about them. As the aircraft hovered above them, Saune managed to gaze upward at the deadly aircraft emblazoned with the U.S. Marine Corps insignia on the side of the fuselage.

The Yakuza soldiers in the lava tube were equally surprised to see their new antagonist, but were not deterred in their mission to repel all intruders. They subsequently poured out weapons’ fire at the Cobra as it hovered just three hundred feet distant, while two other mercenaries leveled their ground-to-air rocket launchers at Sears’ aircraft. That was the last thing they ever did.

Lieutenant Ward unleashed the devastating fire power of the 40mm Gatling guns, disintegrating the occupants of the outer part of the lava tube with blood and gore spraying everywhere. Ward unleashed two 70mm side-mount rockets that slammed into the recess of the lava tube and caused a fearsome explosion. The cave belched a fiery blast outward, leaving a trail of thick black smoke as the flames subsided.

The carnage was absolute. The long and weary firefight, which had almost cost the lives of Captain Saune and all of his men, ended abruptly in a matter of seconds. Saune slowly rose from the protection of the metal loading platform and looked up at the cave entrance that was still expelling thick, black smoke.

“Captain Saune, you are clear for incursion.” Colonel Sears’ voice reported over the VHF, “We’ll provide air cover from here. Over....”

“Nicely done, Colonel.
I owe you a drink,” Saune responded as he and his men approached the bullet-ridden conveyor belt.

“Once this is over, Captain, I’ll take you up on that drink,” Sears replied. “Be advised, Captain, that a contingency of Marines are en route, and will disembark on the compound within the half hour. Over....”

“I'll be glad to have the company, Colonel,” Saune stated as he and his men sprinted up the side of the conveyor belt toward the cave entrance. Saune shot Ortega a smile as he followed him up the rise with his wounded arm.

“I’ll be damned if I’m going to be left out after all we’ve been through,” Ortega said defiantly, as the remaining Guardsmen ascended to the summit of the cave entrance within minutes.

With Saune in the lead, they slowly entered the tunnel as the thick acrid smoke from the Cobra’s rocket blasts began to subside. The scene of slaughter in the tunnel made even a tough, seasoned soldier like Saune shudder. Of the roughly twenty-five Yakuza soldiers defending the complex, only a few body parts grotesquely strewn about the lava tube floor remained. Large sections of the cave’s basalt sides had collapsed, but the tunnel was still negotiable.

They hastened their pace as fast as the slippery, blood-soaked tunnel floor would allow until they reached the metal ladder. Looking upward, they saw that the mechanized hatchway to the complex was still open. However, the upper torso of one of the Yakuza soldiers who attempted to retreat back into the facility was blocking their way. The ghastly
remains of his upper body still held the ladder rungs in a death grip.

Fighting the urge to retch from the grisly sight, Saune quickly ascended the ladder. He pried the dead hands free and allowed the torso to fall to the cave floor with a sickening thud. Saune looked down at his remaining men from the ladder. He paused for a moment and then continued into the facility, not knowing what awaited them inside.

31

S
amuel heard the arrival of Colonel Sears' Cobra over his VHF as he tried to revive Turner, who now lay on the laboratory floor shaking violently.

“Josh, can you hear me?” Samuel said to his friend, as the trembling subsided and his eyes slowly opened.

“Sss…Samuel,” his weary voice said. “Wh…what happened?”

“It’s okay, pal. You're alright now.” Samuel replied as Turner forced himself up on one elbow, rubbing his forehead in an attempt to relieve his pounding headache. “Hey, the cavalry has arrived, Josh. There’s a Marine chopper outside that should be able to take care of Osama’s henchmen.”