Magnanotron: The Evolution
A Bond of Brothers Story.
1st Edition, January 2025.
Copyright 2025 by Robert J. Saniscalchi.
All rights reserved.
No parts of this book may be reproduced, stored or transmitted, unless for review or purchase purposes.
Author: Robert J. Saniscalchi
Editing: MJV Literary Author Services
ISBN-13: 979-8-30-933847-4
This is a work of fiction; names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events and locales, is purely coincidental.
MagNanoTron: The Evolution
A Bond of Brothers Story
Robert J. Saniscalchi
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: LOVE AND LOSS 1
Chapter 2: PIECES OF THE PUZZLE 7
Chapter 3: THE BORDER 17
Chapter 4: HAPPENINGS 32
Chapter 5: THE GOOD AND BAD 43
Chapter 6: BACK IN ACTION 48
Chapter 7: EVOLUTION AND ATTACK 56
Chapter 8: LOSS AND SACRIFICE 68
Chapter 9: THE HOMEFRONT 78
Chapter 10: CONFLICT AND DISCOVERY 89
Chapter 11: THE GAME PLAN 96
Chapter 12: PLANS AND SCHEMES 107
Chapter 13: THE CALL TO ACTION 116
Chapter 14: BOOTS ON THE GROUND 126
Chapter 15: RETRIBUTION 135
Chapter 16: THE AFTERMATH 145
Chapter 17: COMES AROUND 156
Chapter 18: IN CLOSING 173
Glossary of Terms 178
About the Author 179
Also by Author Robert J. Saniscalchi 180
Reader comments and praise for Robert’s award-winning Bond of Brothers stories
Book 1: Danger Close
“5.0 out of 5 stars:
“A riveting tale of camaraderie and courage.”
“The author skillfully weaves a narrative of unbreakable bonds forged in the crucible of danger. The camaraderie among the characters is palpable, drawing readers into a world where loyalty is tested amidst perilous situations.”
A review by Betty Pemberton.
Book 2: Black Water: The China Connection
“5.0 out of 5 stars:
“A fast-paced cloak-and-dagger-type covert ops story with plenty of action. Every bit as good as a Tom Clancy thriller. Enjoy!”
“A masterclass in military thrillers.”
Reviewed in the United States on October 11, 2024
“This book is a masterclass in the genre. The China Connection doesn’t disappoint with its action sequences and character depth. Jason Patrick remains a hero worth rooting for.”
Book 3: Magnanotron
“5.0 out of 5 stars:
“A thrilling exploration of duty and technology.”
Reviewed in the United States on October 12, 2024
“Magnanotron delivers a riveting tale of espionage and military innovation. As Commander Jason Patrick and his Delta Team engage in testing a revolutionary weapon, the story unravels with suspense and action. The threat of kidnapping and betrayal looms large, propelling the plot into high gear. Saniscalchi expertly blends thrilling combat sequences with moments of reflection on loyalty and sacrifice, making this book both exciting and poignant. Readers will appreciate the strong character development and the exploration of camaraderie under pressure. This thrilling adventure is a must-read for fans of military fiction and action.”
Acknowledgments
The author would like to thank friends and family for their support and encouragement. Robert is thankful for the inspiration given by the brave men and women of our military and law enforcement. A special thanks to all Robert’s readers, for their inspiring comments and praise for his stories.
Dedication
The Bond of Brothers stories are dedicated to all facets of law enforcement, the United States military, and the ever-present and patriotic leaders of the free nation that is America.
Chapter 1
LOVE AND LOSS
Our story takes us a little over two years after the inception of Magnanotron.
Jason Patrick has had a rough few weeks, his emotions worn thin by the sudden death of his dear father Robert Patrick. It all started on a cold, gray day in early April. Jason was on base when his mom called; she was hysterical and not making much sense at all. Jason rushed out, drove like a maniac, and found his dad had passed away sitting in his favorite chair, the TV on, his newspaper on his lap.
Jason held his dad’s hand and prayed. Then, struggling to gain his composure, Jason hugged his mom and the tears began to flow.
Slowly, Jason gathered himself and called his wife, Emma. After the call, Jason sat there full of emotions, holding his father’s hand again, as he tried to accept that his dad was gone.
At least he left in his sleep; he looks peaceful, Jason thought to himself. It must have been his heart.
He remembered when he was young and unsure, but knew he wanted to join the military. It was his father’s words which helped him decide: Join the Army… I did, and I don’t regret it to this day.
The funeral and church service were emotion-filled; lots of friends, associates and family members came to pay their respects for the loss of Jason’s father. They came to be there for a friend, for his family and his son, the commander of Fort Bragg, Lieutenant General Jason Patrick. It was a bright spring afternoon, and birdsong filled the air from nearby trees, as everyone gathered at the gravesite.
Father Peter looked over the crowd and said his comforting words of prayer, as Delta Team stood in full dress, their brass glowing in the warm sunlight. Jason was with his mom, Emma, his kids and his best friend, Command Sergeant Major Tex Larson. Jason did his best to keep his composure, as he stared at the flag-covered coffin.
Dad was always there for me, he thought to himself. I was a good son. Lots of good memories. Jason was again somehow feeling that he didn’t thank Dad enough for his love, and for the fine father he was. How Jason wished he had just one more day with his father.
After the funeral, Jason took the week off. He spent the following days at home, going over some financial things for his mom and trying to be of comfort to her. Jason was relieved that Dad had a nice life-insurance policy; the townhome was theirs, and his pensions and benefits would go to Mom.
Then, late one night, the phone rang.
Jason jumped out of bed, thinking: It must be something at the base.
He was surprised to hear that it was his mom. She sounded strange, not making sense.
“I will be right over,” Jason said, and rushed to get dressed.
“What’s going on?” a sleepy Emma asked.
“Not sure, honey, but something’s wrong with Mom,” Jason replied. “I need to get my ass over there!”
Jason made the short drive and pulled up in front of the townhouse. He noticed that the house was mostly dark, as he headed to the front door and found it unlocked. Jason ran inside and turned on some lights.
“Mom, it’s me,” he yelled. “Where are you?”
No reply.
She must be upstairs, he said to himself, as he ran up to her bedroom.
Jason was taken aback at the sight before him: Mom was passed out on the bed, a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the night table.
“Mom, Mom, are you okay?” Jason said, over and over.
And, then… she slowly opened her eyes.
“Oh, my son, you’re here now!” she said.
“What happened? Why did you drink so much?” Jason asked, holding the bottle of strong Tennessee whiskey.
Mom started crying, then went for the whiskey bottle. “Please, Jason, I don’t want to be alone… I want to go to Heaven with your father!”
Jason was shocked, as he gripped the bottle and hugged his mom. “I’m here now, Mom. It’s gonna be okay. You’re coming home with me.” He took out his cell phone and called Emma. Then, Jason carried his drunken mother downstairs and, finally, got her into his car.
Back at the house, Emma was waiting at the front door when they arrived. She gave Jason a hand, as they got Mom upstairs and settled in bed, in the spare room.
Before going back to bed, Jason and Emma had a talk, and decided not to leave her alone until things settled down. Mom was staying over, maybe for good.
The next morning, Mom had a shower, some breakfast and coffee. Jason was relieved that she was doing much better, and had said she was sorry about what happened. Then, Jason and Emma had to laugh when, out of nowhere, Mom said: “Jason, I need a TV in my room. You know I have to watch my soap operas.”
Later on, Emma had a talk with the kids about Grandma. They liked the idea of having her over. They loved their Grandma; she was really good at spoiling them.
*
Time goes on: Robby was now five years old and big sister Lori was ten. A week later, Jason woke to the sound of his kids getting ready for school. Both of them ran by the door yelling at each other, and went rumbling down the stairway.
Time to get back to the base, Jason said to himself, and dressed in his uniform.
Emma had the kids quietly eating breakfast by the time Jason went for his coffee and gave his love a hug.
“How you doing, soldier?” Emma said, with a big smile. “I love my man in uniform.”
“I’m good, but these two here…” he looked at Lori, “they sure make a lot of ruckus.”
“It was him,” Lori replied, pointing at her brother as he was eating his cereal.
“Never mind that,” Emma added in a stern voice; “the rules are the rules: no jumping down the staircase!”
Jason smiled as he dug into his oatmeal. He was thankful Emma was so good at keeping order at home. Seldom was the need for him to be the bad guy.
After, Jason grabbed his keys, stepped out into the cool morning air and jumped in his car. Happily, he had noticed that the days were getting longer lately; at last, the unusually cold winter was easing its icy grip.
He was feeling a little better about things after going to church on Sunday, and talking with Father Peter about the loss of his dad. Father Peter had said: “Be grateful for the time spent with your father. Focus on the good memories and it will get better for you.” Jason was thankful for the words of comfort, and glad that his work promotions had allowed him free time for some good years with Dad.
Another week or so and it will be the first day of spring, Jason repeated to himself, as he headed for the interstate, and into the world of Army Special Forces and Fort Bragg.
Chapter 2PIECES OF THE PUZZLE
In Maryland, at the science-and-research lab area in Devcom, led by the brilliant scientist Peter S. Androvski, Darious Patel was setting up a Magnanotron display area, for the ongoing training of a group of young scientists and technicians. Androvski was in his office area studying, working with their new, high-tech computer system and large display screen.
Since the inception of Magnanotron, over two years ago, there had been strong funding for Devcom, and an almost non-stop implantation program underway. Ever since the Russia affair, there were the ridged, locked-tight safety and security standards in place that went with anything to do with Magnanotron and Devcom.
If one were to walk into Androvski’s office, they might say it was a mess, with empty coffee cups and papers scattered about, but, to the busy scientist, everything was as it should be.
On the display screen was a structural drawing of the US Navy’s high-tech naval vessel USS Zumwalt (DDG-1000), one of the deadliest destroyers in the world. Androvski’s big project was equipping the Zumwalt with Magnanotron protection: codename “Martha”. Much progress had been made over the years; so far, about twenty-five percent of Special Forces were now Magnanotron-trained and equipped.
Both Patel and Androvski spent months on the Zumwalt, installing the large flux-shield intensifiers needed to keep a nominal density and flow over such a large perimeter. They were close to being finished, but there was more still to do.
Androvki’s cell was ringing. He picked up to the voice of Special Forces Commander Thomas Ryan.
“How’s Martha coming along?” Ryan asked. “We have another group ready for shielding.”
“Martha is going well, sir; almost complete,” Androvski replied. “We just finished a new batch of Magnanotrons. I will send over the units you need.”
Ryan had a few more questions about Martha before ending his call.
*
At The White House, President Jameson’s main concern was the ever-present problem with Iran, and their push to go fully nuclear. Iran, as was well known, was a country run by terrorists. How can they ever be trusted? Jameson constantly thought to himself.
Peace was hopeful in Ukraine, but not in the Middle East. The threat to Israel and the surrounding area was only getting worse. The attacks on shipping and American bases by the radical Islamists continued. Iran’s funding of the terrorist groups, the Houthi, Hezbollah and Hamas, was getting out of hand. Iran was trying to control the Persian Gulf and the seas in the area.
President Jameson wanted to keep his options open. To him, the eventual possibility of an assault, or war with Iran, was not out of the picture.
*
At Fort Bragg, Sergeant Major Tex Larson was with specialist Jorge Morales, going over the latest results of the testing and training for a new round of candidates. The testing was intense, both physically and mentally, requiring strength and endurance at high standards. There are many men who are good soldiers, but only a select few have the edge, the intangible abilities it takes, to make it in Special Forces.
“Sir, with the last of the dropouts gone,” Morales said, “the rest of the group is doing fairly well.”
“Good work,” Tex replied, as he looked over the progress report. “I got a meeting with the boss; he will be happy to hear it.”
Jason Patrick was in his office, finishing a call from Special Forces Commander Ryan A. Thompson. The discussion was about the violence and death the Iranian-backed terrorists were inflicting on their friends in the Middle East. Jason was told that the president was contemplating an insertion into Yemen, to help stop the attacks on shipping in the area. An air-and-ground attack on a major Houthi military missile installation, and their base of operations, was being considered.
Tex walked in and handed some paperwork to Jason. “Good to have you back, sir. Looks like everything is going well here.”
“Good, keep at it. And thanks for keeping an eye on things for me while I was off,” Jason replied, with a smile.
He got straight to business: “Just got word from Commander Ryan; it seems we may have some action ahead for Delta.”
“Action? Hmm… sounds interesting, sir,” Tex replied, with a smile. “We’ll be ready for it.”
“Good, I know you will be,” Jason replied. “We will have a meeting with the team as soon as the details come in.”
The two old friends talked about Jason’s dad and things at the base for a while, over some coffee and fresh donuts, before Tex left to share the news.
Jason sat thinking to himself: Damn, it feels good to be back in the fight.
*
In Iran, Supreme Leader Al Kalmani was at a top-level meeting with his closest advisors and associates. Oil production was down, revenue and economic reports were reviewed, and the bad news was shared. American clean crude was edging them out of the market, and it was not getting better over time.
Kalmani was in a rage as he stood up at the table. “It is the West, those infidels! They’re squeezing us dry with their sanctions and mounting oil production!” he yelled out. “We must step up our attacks! Hit them all across the Gulf and Red Sea!”
“But, Your Excellency,” one of his advisors said, “perhaps we should try and negotiate with the Americans, get some oil sales going again.”
“No, the Americans will give us nothing but lies,” Kalmani replied, with a frown. “They need to be punished, and then we will see.”
“Yes, sir. We will begin preparations for more attacks immediately,” Defense Minister Moham Easka replied.
“I also have an update on Persia for you.”
Kalmani calmed himself and took his seat. “Okay. I’ve been waiting for a report on my little surprise,” he smiled. “The meeting is done. I expect to see plans for our attack. For now, I need to talk privately with the defense minister.”
The meeting room emptied out, and the two leaders talked about their secret operations.
In Russia, they had a deal. They had a connection with a top Russian defense contractor who was working with President Grekov. It was a secret deal for two ballistic missiles, at ten million dollars each, plus the Russians would provide someone to train his techs on system operations. Unknown to most, over the last few years Kalmani and Eska had drained a fortune from certain accounts.
Their “Persia” operation was underway at a location along the Red Sea and southern coast of Yemen. So far, they completed installing a series of bunkers, security fencing and an attack-defense missile system. A radar installation, along with a watchtower and a large, mobile missile-launcher, were also starting construction at the Persia site. In Iran, under tight security at the Natanz Nuclear Facility, they were just starting the process.
Technicians were methodically beginning the assembly of an atomic nuclear warhead, similar in size to the American W85. This warhead had a variable yield, from three to eighty kilotons of TNT. Kalmani’s evil plan was to launch on American and Israeli assets by the end of the year.
*
At Fort Bragg, it was a warm, sunny morning in early May, with just a few fair-weather clouds floating in the blue skies above. Delta was headed to a meeting at Capcom.
Inside the large Humvee was Specialist Jorge Morales, a slim, medium-sized, dark-haired man, his parents being from Peru. Jimmy Dudash and Blair Crouse were also present, both strong and a little stocky, at five-eight; Blair was balding, though both had reddish-brown hair. Thomas Blacknal was a tall, lean African American – an experienced and deadly soldier with a good sense of humor. Added to them were the Irishman, Keven McDonough – the shortest and one of the toughest of the group – along with the latest addition, Robert Calibari, a former Marine, six feet tall; he was Italian, with short-brown hair and balding. This rounded Delta out to a seven-man team, when including Tex Larson.
Tex was a formidable soldier, a former elite sniper known to carry a big, sharp blade. One might say he was a legend among his peers. Tex was tall, with a lanky, strong build, dark-haired with a trimmed beard. His family went way back, for generations, in the northwest Texas area.
Delta Team leader Tex Larson and Jason Patrick greeted the team as they arrived at Capcom. Jason was pleased: Delta Team looked well, and seemed to be in good spirits.
Everyone gathered around a large oak table. A map of the Red Sea came up on the large display screen.
Jason stood up. “Reports are coming in of another series of drone and missile attacks by Houthi rebels, on commercial shipping and against American warships. Capcom is considering all options in our response, including a Special Forces insertion into northern Yemen.”
“We got a timeframe on this yet?” Blair asked.
“Not yet,” Jason replied, “but the word is that the president wants to hit them hard.”
Tex looked around the table. “We need to get ready for it.”
The meeting went on for another hour, details and intelligence on the Houthi terrorists going around the table.
*
At The White House, President Jameson was with Defense Secretary Baker, Secretary of State Hogerbee, and Joint Chief of the Military, General Stanis. They were going over the latest reports on the ever-volatile Middle East.
President Jameson was frustrated and a little angry, as he stood up and looked around the table. “I have had enough of these attacks on our shipping and our troops.”
Jameson sat back down and sipped his coffee. “We need to have some stability in the region, and we need to protect Israel.”
“Agreed, sir,” Hogerbee replied. “The Iranian proxies, especially the Houthi and Hamas, are getting bolder. I believe that, with their oil revenues down and our counterattacks, the Iranians are getting desperate.”
“We have a new location in northern Yemen,” General Stanis added. “My sources tell me it’s reinforced and underground: a major supply-and-command center in the Sanaa area. I have given Special Forces a heads up to be ready for it.”
Stanis continued: “We’ve also obtained new intel on a major Hezbollah military installation in Syria; seems to be a well-hidden complex. We believe that it plays a key part in their ongoing attacks against Israel.”
“Good,” President Jameson replied, “then I’ll leave the details with you. But let’s hit them all good and hard!”
“You mentioned Iran, Mr. President,” Secretary Baker added; “Intelligence reports an uptick in activity at their nuclear installation in Natanz… Intel has also detected a major network server, and lots of activity going on at the Syrian location.”
“Sneaky bastards they are! They keep pushing me on this nuclear thing!” Jameson replied. Anyone who knew the president could sense his anger from the look in his eyes. “From now on, we are on the offensive.”
Jameson looked at his friends. “Do the homework; preparations and plans need to be made.”
The time is coming for Iran, the president thought to himself. Time to cut the head off the snake.
Chapter 3
THE BORDER
At The White House, President Jameson was at a meeting with Stanley Gibson, the director of US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). Joint Chief General Stanis and the director of Homeland Security were also present. They were going over the ongoing mission to deport illegal aliens, especially known criminals.
So far, things were going fairly well. The Border Wall was complete, and Border Patrol had things under control at the southern border. America’s people were starting to feel better and safer for it. On the other hand, working around the country, with state and local law enforcement, to evict violent gangs and individuals, was tough work. At times, things turned ugly and lives were lost, but the job was getting done.
Jameson looked over his notes. “I hear we got a problem; the news networks are all over it down in New Mexico. How did this happen? I thought we had these gangs wrapped up. What’s going on?”
“It’s another Tren de Aragua gang from Venezuela,” Gibson replied. “It’s a large group – fifty or more of them – and heavily armed. We lost some officers and some civilians in the fight to stop them. Reports are they’re well dug in, and have taken over the small town of Gallo, in New Mexico.”
Jameson got up from his seat. “I‘m going to declare these nasty thugs enemy combatants, and we will get them the hell out,” he angrily replied, looking at General Stanis. “These thugs are murdering Americans… Who knows what’s going on in that town? We need to make an example of them.”
“I understand your frustration, Mr. President,” the Homeland director replied, trying to cover his ass, “but this is what happens when millions of unknowns were allowed to walk across our borders. Overall, we have made good progress; New York and the Midwest have been cleared of these gangs.”
Jameson lightened up a little. “I’ve read the reports; the deportation program is working. But this attack must be dealt with firmly.”
“Sir, it’s not as simple as sending in the Marines,” Stanis replied. “How many civilians are in this town?” he asked Gibson.
“Most of the town’s people fled. We’re not sure how many remain or what happened to them,” Gibson replied.
Stanis turned to Jameson; “You see, Sir? We have to be careful here. Lives are at stake.”
“I understand,” Jameson replied. “So, what are our options here?”
“I believe we send in Special Forces,” Stanis replied. “With their shielding and unique abilities, I believe it is the best solution.”
“Good idea. We need the help,” Gibson added.
“Hmm… it would minimize casualties,” Jameson said, as he looked around the table. “Get things worked out and get it done.”
The meeting went on for an hour or so, as details and discussion went around the table.
Unknown to the group; a dozen or more young women had been captured during the initial assault. The sheriff, his deputy and the manager of the town bank were shot dead for resisting. The women were bound and locked up in a safehouse, to be used to satisfy the wants and needs of the evil band of thugs.
*
At Fort Bragg, it was early evening as Jason Patrick went out onto the airfield. He watched Bravo and a large squad of Army Rangers, call-name “Tango”, forming up next to a big C-5M Super Galaxy Transport. Jason had prepared his troops with the details, and the plan was in place for the mission to clear out Gallo, New Mexico.
On his way back to Capcom, Jason ran into Delta as they were out doing a run.
Tex waved and came over. “Hello, sir. I saw Bravo and the Ranger squad geared up and heading out,” he said. “It must be a big one.”
“Roger on that,” Jason replied. “We got another problem down by the border. It seems a group of Venezuelan thugs think they can do whatever they want.”
Tex smiled. “Bravo is ready for it. These gangs of bad boys need a good ass-kicking.”
*
In New Mexico, a caravan of trucks and Humvees full of troops left Holloman Airforce Base and headed for the interstate. The caravan was closing in on the Gallo area, just as the sun was peeking over the eastern horizon. They found their way to a holding area that was set up about three miles from town, and built a temporary camp.
A few hours later, after meeting with law enforcement and talking with FBI agents, Bravo Team leader Sergeant Ron Grabowski and a few of his men had a good look around the town’s perimeter.
The Army Rangers got busy getting their gear ready, and set up a staging area for the assault. The state police and FBI agents on station were watching the soldiers gearing up for battle.
“Looks like the heavy hitters are finally here,” one of the FBI agents said.
“Thank God; it’s about time! That gang of killers has been at it a week already,” an officer replied.
About an hour later, Bravo leader Grabowski had a quick briefing with the Ranger leader, Staff Sergeant Bill Swanson, and the troops. He had a good feel for their plan of attack. It would be a two-pronged attack, in full shielding. Everyone would keep their coms open, in case the need for backup should arise.
The Rangers left first. In single file, they were moving low and fast, heading to circle around to the rear end of town.
Once in position, they energized their Magnanotron shielding, and began the attack in a flanking maneuver.
Bravo moved into position, waiting until the sound of gunfire erupted, as the Rangers engaged the enemy. Quickly, Bravo shielded up and stormed up the town’s main entrance. The team split into two squads and slowly made their way to the front edge of town.
Grabowski noticed a handful of dead bodies lying in the center of the street. They must have put up a fight, he said to himself.
*
In the safehouse, in the darkness of the damp, cold basement, a group of weary, half-starved women from town heard the gunshots ring out. Of the twelve of them, not one had not been raped or beaten. The younger ones, who were more obliging, were not as hungry or thirsty, as they were allowed upstairs for longer, where there was food and water.
“Do you hear that?” one of the ladies said, with hope in her heart. “Help is on the way!”
And so the ladies huddled together, in what blankets they had, hoping and trying to calm down, as the background filled with the sounds of battle.
*
At the end of town, the Army Rangers split into two teams and hit heavy resistance, as the gang rallied against the attack. Their green tracer rounds glanced off the Rangers’ Magnanotron shields, as they moved and fired in short, accurate bursts.
Up on top of the town’s bank, on the roof, gang members had two heavy machine guns and RPGs in position. They were blasting away as the blue arcs of light came at them, causing considerable damage to some of the buildings. The Rangers responded with Mk.153 SMAW rockets, with devastating effect.
With most of the attention at the end of town, Bravo moved in and took down several gang members along the way.
Out on the outer perimeter of town, the crowd of news reporters, FBI agents and police officers heard the intense gunfire. With the sound of stray bullets popping and zipping by overhead, everyone stayed low, took cover behind their vehicles, and waited.
All around town, the gang members looked on in awe and fear, as the soldiers in blue shielding kept coming and coming at them.
Gradually, the gunfire let up some.
Ranger leader Swanson came on the com: “Bravo! Bravo! What’s your stat? Copy.”
“We copy that, Tango,” Grabowski replied. “Looks like they moved into the buildings here. We need to go door to door. Copy that.”
“We copy that, Bravo. Same here: door to door,” Tango leader Swanson replied, as he racked his assault rifle. “This is a fight to the finish.”
And so the Ranger troops split up into three-man teams, and started to comb their way through the town.
About three miles from town, back at the staging area, the police had the roads sealed off. The firefighters and ambulance crews noticed the gunfire had slowed down a bit, and waited. Everyone was listening and hoping for the best. More news vans arrived; their cameras rolling, the reporters asking questions. It was a big story: front page and TV news.
Back in town, what was left of the gang members were in panic mode, as their fear of the men in blue took hold. They scrambled into defensive positions. Bravo and the Rangers were in full shielding, and pressed the attack. As always, their training and unique combat skills came into play, as they fought on. The teams moved slowly and methodically, as they went about rooting out and killing the criminals who resisted. So far, they had disarmed and captured a large group of them.
Finally, after hours of fighting, the Rangers and Bravo troops hooked up.
Bravo leader Ron Grabowski was talking over things with Ranger leader Bill Swanson, when he noticed an old, blue-and-white farmhouse in the distance, set back behind a grove of Ponderosa pine and locust trees: the safehouse. Grabowski pointed: “Did you hit that one?”
“No… we thought you guys did,” Swanson replied.
After some discussion, it was decided that Bravo would go and check the safehouse out. The Rangers would take control of the dozen or more gang members who were captured, and head back for a final search through town. Bravo headed out through the shadows of the trees.
As they closed in, gang members reacted; incoming gunfire started from the safehouse.
Eventually, Bravo used their accurate return fire and managed to pick off the thugs, who were firing from the windows. Before long, Bravo had the safehouse surrounded. The firefight slowed down and Sergeant Grabowski called for a ceasefire.
One of his men came on the com: “I’m at the back door, going to work my way in. Copy that.”
“We copy,” Grabowski replied. “Get inside.”
In the front interior of the safehouse, gang-leader Jose Sanchez and one of his top thugs were all that was left of the gang who were able to fight. Sanchez was a bundle of nerves, trying to think of a way out. He went upstairs and found four of his men shot dead, lying in pools of blood. In desperation, the two thugs went down into the basement.
The Bravo Team member slowly and quietly got the back door unlocked and entered the rear foyer. His rifle at the ready, he moved toward the kitchen.
The ladies were frightened by the sight of Sanchez. They could sense his anger, see it in his eyes, and hear it as he spoke. He pointed to one of the young ladies and turned to his friend: “I take this one. If I no come back… kill them all!”
After things on the perimeter of the house calmed down, Grabowski and a few of his men headed for the front-entrance door. As they reached the front steps, the door opened, to the sight of Sanchez standing behind a red-haired woman, with his arm around her neck and a handgun pointed at her head.
“Hold it right there, amigos!” Sanchez said, taking in the sight of Bravo outlined in shielding. “You… you are all monsters! I will kill her!”
Bravo stood firm, their guns drawn.
“You do that, you die, too,” Grabowski replied.
Sanchez tried to calm himself. He smiled. “I die and a bunch of her girlfriends in the house will die.”
Unknown to gang-leader Sanchez, everyone was tuned into Grabowski’s headset. Not far away, Ranger leader Swanson assessed the situation. Quickly, a sniper team was dispatched, and was moving into position by the safehouse...
Back at the safehouse, Grabowski paused, thinking: He could have more women and more men inside. Or he could be lying. We need time to set the trap.
“I take her with me,” Sanchez said. “You bring car, let us leave, no problems.”
Sergeant Grabowski’s mind was full of thoughts. He knew some of his men out back were trying to get in, or were in the house. He replied: “Okay, let me check with my boss.” He pointed to a soldier on the perimeter. “I need to talk with him, but I think we’re good to go on that.”
Grabowski lowered his rifle and slowly stepped back, thinking: We need time with this.
Suddenly, Swanson whispered through his headset: “Shooter is ready, the subject targeted. Just cough into the mic and it’s done.”
Grabowski waited a moment, talking with one of his soldiers, then started back.
As he moved closer, his man inside the safehouse came on the com: “I’m in the kitchen.”
“Well, what is your answer?” Sanchez yelled out, his nerves on edge, trying to keep the young lady under control as she started crying.
“We are bringing your car… but we need to know about the ladies inside – if they’re okay – before we let you go free,” Grabowski replied.
“Hmm… okay, you see ladies,” Sanchez replied, “but no funny business or they all die... I go free, yes?”
“Yes, of course,” Grabowski added; “that’s the deal.”
The gang leader backed up, closed the front door and told his man to bring the women up to the front window. Full of fear, the stressed-out women moved out of the darkness and up into the living area.
Just out of sight, Swanson and his team had been listening in. A few minutes later, a black SUV pulled in front of the safehouse. The driver left the car running and moved away.
What happened next lasted all of a minute, but to Grabowski it seemed to be in slow motion.
The trap is set, Grabowski thought to himself, as Sanchez moved out with the girl, a wild look in his eyes; he smiled when he noticed his ride. Sanchez pointed at the front window: “There… they’re all there.”
Grabowski looked on, as the women waved from the window. It was now or never. Inside the house, a Bravo member was hiding under the kitchen table, at the ready. Grabowski felt the moment was right, and let out a light cough into his headset. A red dot suddenly appeared on Sanchez’s forehead.
Boom! His head exploded in a bloody mess.
At the sound of the gunshot, the gang member inside jumped up and went to the window, to see what happened. He immediately turned, raised his handgun and started shooting at the women, until the Bravo soldier under the table cut him down with automatic-weapon fire.
Grabowski and his men rushed inside, to the sound of the women screaming and yelling for help; some of them were on the floor, bleeding. He noticed the gang member on the floor, shot up, and his man standing over him.
Grabowski went on the com: “We need a medical dispatch. Repeat: medical help. Copy!”
“We copy, Bravo; Roger on that,” Ranger leader Swanson replied: “medical on the way.”
Grabowski rushed to the wounded ladies. “Get some towels,” he said to his man.
Before long, Swanson and the Army medical team arrived, and started treating the three women with gunshot wounds, one of them serious.
Out on the perimeter of town, the FBI and police were notified that the battle was over, and that they had to get some wounded to the hospital, ASAP. The whole gang of helpers sprang into action, as the police, firemen and FBI agents jumped in their vehicles and headed into town.
At the safehouse, the women felt a flood of relief; their nightmare was over. An older lady ran over to Grabowski and hugged him tightly. “Thank God you came. It was horrible!” she said, her eyes full of tears.
Slowly, things began to settle down.
Swanson and Grabowski shook hands and stepped outside, just as the ambulances and paramedics arrived, their sirens blaring.
“Man, that was some shit,” Swanson said. “I got one man wounded: banged up pretty good when his shield shut off by accident and the house he was in got hit by an RPG.”
“Sorry about your man,” Grabowski said. “Thank God it’s over.”
The two leaders talked for a while, as the town of Gallo was swarmed with police, firemen and FBI agents. The Special Forces troops were greeted by almost everyone, with thanks and admiration for their tireless efforts.
Before long, Bravo and Tango gathered up their gear and started to withdraw, for their long ride back to the Airforce base.
Gallo was damaged, a few buildings wrecked and smoldering. Some residents lost their lives, but it could have been much worse. In the end, the small town of Gallo was saved, and its people could begin to return home.
A total of thirty-six gang members were killed. The FBI had over a dozen prisoners to interrogate and get some much-needed inside information, which would help in the fight to rid America of the criminals who are Tren de Aragua. Following their horrible ordeal, all of the women from the safehouse were taken to hospital for evaluation and appropriate medical treatment.
*
At The White House, President Jameson got word. He watched the news reports of the success at Gallo, and was relieved it went well. His plan to get the criminals out of America was working.
Jameson poured two fingers neat of his favorite, aged whiskey into a glass, and sat back, thinking: Now there’s more fish to fry… Time to get back to Iran and the Middle East.
Chapter 4
HAPPENINGS
At Devcom, scientist Peter Androvski watched as Darious Patel was outfitting one of their associates with a brand-new, wrist-mounted Magnanotron shielding device. Other trainees were gathered around the display area of the lab, anxiously waiting to see the wonder of Magnanotron for the first time.
Androvski turned to Patel; “Okay, let’s bring it up slow and easy, my friend.”
The Magnanotron unit energized, the familiar, light-blue arcs of light starting to pulse around the scientist.
“We have reached sequential core-flux magnification and flow,” Patel said, as he looked at the display-screen data. “How do you feel?” he asked the subject, who was now in full blue, luminescent shielding.
“Good. Feels like I’m Superman!” The group started laughing
What happened next lasted about ten seconds. The blue outline faded out, then vanished – and so did the subject!
“What the hell was that?!” Androvski screamed out.
Everyone was in shock… as the seconds ticked by.
“Look! Look now! Oh, my god! He… he’s back… with his shield off!” Darious Patel yelled out, over the commotion.
The subject, Andrew Smith, smiled, wondering why everyone looked concerned, and at the panic in their voices. “Why is everyone so upset? Did I do something wrong?”
“No… not you,” Androvski said, as he quickly removed the Magnanotron from Smith’s wrist. “You… you did well, but something extraordinary just happened… I will explain…” Androvski added, looking at Darious Patel, “once we understand what it was ourselves. How do you feel?”
“You disappeared!” one of the scientists yelled out. “All of us just saw it!”
“What?” young Andrew Smith replied. “I was standing right here, looking at everyone jumping around and yelling.”
“Okay, listen up!” Androvski yelled above the chatter. “Everyone needs to calm down; we will get to the bottom of it. Training is done for today.”
“It was overwhelming for us all,” Patel added. “Not a word to anyone else in Devcom about this. We must keep this strictly between us.”
The associates calmed down and eventually left the lab area.
Patel and Androvski were nervously talking to themselves, their excitement building as they gathered up the laptop, cameras and the new Magnanotron unit.
“We need to look at the data; check everything,” Androvski said, trying to stay focused. “The answer to what happened is here, I’m sure of it.”
*
A few days later, at the Pentagon, Joint Chief General Stanis finished his morning call with President Jameson. Another mission against the cartel, and the last of the Tren de Aragua, along the southern border, was set to go. The assault on a major cartel drug-processing facility in Texas was set for sunrise the following morning.
Special Forces Commander Ryan Thomas had picked out Bravo to lead another assault with the Ranger group, Tango. A total of forty-eight heavily armed and shielded troops were already in flight to an Airforce base in the area. If the evil gang of thugs only knew what was coming for them, they would have run for their lives.
At Fort Bragg, Delta had finished their morning workout and were in their quarters, getting cleaned up for their mission briefing with General Jason Patrick.
Jimmy Dudash was last out of the shower. He grabbed his towel, went to his locker and opened it up – to tons of Styrofoam packing flowing all over him.
“Son of a bitch!” he yelled out, as the rest of the team busted out laughing. “Look at this shit!” Dudash was pissed.
“Don’t look at me,” McDonough replied, trying to wipe the smile off his face.
Tex came through the door and caught sight of a half-naked Jimmy Dudash, Styrofoam sticking to his wet body. “What the fuck is going on here?! Look at this mess.” In truth, Tex was trying not to laugh himself. “Let’s go, people. Get your ass moving. The XO is waiting for us.”
And so the friendly banter continued, as Delta cleaned up. As always, it was the little things, a good laugh now and then, that helped ease the tension.
Jason Patrick was in his office, and had dozed off at his desk. He found himself in a dream: a memory of his dad, a fishing pole in hand, with his hip-boots on; his father and him fishing on the creek. Dad was showing young Jason how to hook a worm.
The phone rang and brought Jason back to reality. Before answering, Jason smiled as he thought to himself: I was only a little guy then. Caught my first trout that day.
*
In Washington, President Jameson had reviewed plans with Joint Chief General Stanis, and approved the attacks in northern Yemen and Syria. He was now in a meeting with new CIA Director Rob Tanner.
Tanner pointed to a large display screen. “Sir, we have been watching this area near Natanz, in northern Iran. The Iranians are processing weapon-grade nuclear materials; I’m sure of it. But, sir, we’re trying to get the details on what level they’re at in the long process of creating a nuclear bomb.”
Tanner sipped his coffee and continued. “This, here,” he pointed, “looks like a regular building, but we suspect it is a cover for a large, underground complex. Lots of night-time activity going on.”
“Hmm, I don’t like it,” Jameson replied. “Do we have any people in Iran?”
“We do, but not enough” Tanner replied. “With a few more contacts in place, we could dig deeper, sir.”
President Jameson smiled as the two men shook hands. “I got a few calls to make,” Jameson added. “Get whatever you need. I want their nuclear activity under a microscope.”
The meeting ended and CIA Director Rob Tanner went back to his office, to set up a meeting with his top agents.
*
Back in the Fayetteville area, Jason and Tex were at the local gun club. The two friends had their old-time classic shotguns. After a round of trap shooting, Jason shot well, at forty-two out of fifty hits with his Remington 1100. But Tex edged him out, at forty-four hits with his Browning A-5.
The gun-club manager, an older gentleman named Jim, came over to Jason. “Man, can you guys shoot, or what! I know I asked you before, but we sure could use some help on the trap team.”
“Thanks for the offer, Jim,” Jason said, as he looked at Tex, “but it’s the Army: takes too much of our time.”
It was a nice day at the range, as Jason and Tex packed the car and talked about things they would do, when they retired – like joining the trap team. For now, it was just their escape: a fun round of sporting clay-and-trap shooting.
It was a warm, sunny spring afternoon, the trees transforming the landscape with their bright-green leaves, as Jason and Tex pulled out from the gun club and headed for the highway. With the day off, the two decided to stop in town and have a late lunch at their favorite diner. Traffic was heavy on the interstate.
“Damn, there’s three lanes!” Tex said. “Never seen it this slow.”
“Roger on that, buddy,” Jason replied. “At least it’s moving some.”
Finally, Jason spotted the delay: a police car blocking the right lane, while a driver was putting on his spare tire. Once moving again, Jason brought his SUV back up to seventy miles an hour and hit the cruise control.
The miles went by…
Up ahead, on the road; a weary truck driver was in the middle lane, when he nodded off…
The big tanker-truck swiped into a white sedan in the right lane. Then it crashed into a man on his motorcycle, before heading for the train bridge ahead. The truck driver scrambled to get control, but it was too little too late.
Jason was looking ahead when loud bangs echoed out. Suddenly, Jason looked in shock as a truck swerved, then crashed into the cars in the right lane. Still moving fast, the truck impacted with a loud, crunching bang, as it crashed into the side of the railroad bridge in the distance.
“Oh, my god! Did you see that?!” Tex said. “We got trouble ahead.”
“I see it,” Jason replied, as he hit the brakes and pulled onto the shoulder. About a hundred yards ahead, Jason watched as smoke started coming from the truck.
“I’m going to see if we can get closer,” Jason said. “Maybe we can help.”
Jason drove onto the shoulder and passed the line of cars waiting. He stopped behind a smashed-up, white sedan. Jason and Tex jumped out of the SUV.
They found a lady in the sedan. She was shaken up, but seemed okay, her airbags having deployed. Tex and Jason slowly managed to pull her out. She thanked them for the help, as they walked her over to sit in Jason’s car.
Tex and Jason then started toward the smoky truck.
They realized the danger in seconds…
“Fuck! It’s an oil delivery truck!” Jason yelled out. He grabbed his cell and called 911.
Tex took in the situation: the road was blocked with wreckage, the cars close, and the truck was smoldering. As they drew closer, the truck had black pools of oil spreading around it. “The cars are too close!” Tex yelled out to Jason.
The two men ran to the waiting cars, telling the people to get out and move back up the road; the truck could explode! It was amazing how fast they reacted when they heard the word “explode”.
Jason turned to Tex; “Make sure everyone is out of their cars and away. I’m going to check the other wrecks and the truck driver.”
Tex wanted to tell him that he was crazy, until he realized that he would do exactly the same thing. “Okay, Jason… be careful.”
Jason ran toward the truck, where he found what was left of a motorcycle. The rider, lying on the shoulder of the road, was a bloody mess; no helmet on; there was no helping him. Jason moved closer, and could see that the truck had hit the cement embankment hard. It was tilted to one side, the oil tank leaking. Jason got the heavy smell of diesel fuel, and the truck’s engine was smoldering away.
I’d better do this quick! he said to himself, as he ran over and took hold of the passenger-door handle. He could hear the man yelling inside the smoky cabin, as he tried and tried to pull the door open.
Tex came to help. He could see little licks of flame coming out of the truck’s hood. “She’s gonna blow any minute!” Tex said, as he grabbed the doorframe. In the background, sirens filled the air, as police and firemen arrived on the scene.
The two men pulled hard… and finally got the jammed door half open. Carefully, they pulled the driver out of the smoke; he was choking and coughing as they carried him over and set him down behind the white sedan.
The police and firemen swarmed the scene. One of them, a police sergeant, came to Jason, while a paramedic from the fire department started treating the lady from the car and the truck driver. “You guys okay? What happened?” the sergeant asked.
Jason smiled at Tex. “We’re fine; been through worse. We saw it: the oil truck swerved off the road.”
“It’s gonna blow,” Tex added. “We cleared the area and got this one out of his truck.”
A fire engine came to a screeching stop out on the median, the firemen pulling hose and moving toward the oil truck.
The policeman looked at Jason and Tex. He smiled. “You guys have to be military; you’re way too calm… I’m going to need a statement and some I.D.”
“Right on that, boss,” Tex said, as they showed their credentials.
“We got lucky today,” the sergeant said, smiling as handshakes went around. “Thanks a whole bunch.” He added: “Not many would have gone near that truck.”
News reporters arrived on the scene and started taking pictures, and talking with some of the police officers.
The firemen got to the truck just in the nick of time and flooded it with water. White steam fizzed off the hot steel, rising up and billowing in the breeze. The firemen managed to get the truck’s hood open, and within a minute or two the fire was out for good.
After a while, things settled down a little. The police and firemen eventually cleared two lanes and got the traffic moving. Jason and Tex jumped into the SUV.
“Some ending to our day off,” Jason said. “It was nuts there for a while, but it felt good to help, to get back in the action.”
Tex smiled. “It feels good to do the right thing… considering we coulda got our ass blown up!”
The two had to laugh a little, even though it was a nasty, deadly crash.
Jason drove off the interstate, onto the side roads, and eventually pulled into his driveway.
Tex grabbed his gear, said goodbye and jumped into his car, as Jason grabbed his pack and gun-case. He checked his watch; it would be another concerned Emma and a late dinner for him – but he had some kind of a story to tell her.
Chapter 5
THE GOOD AND THE BAD
In Maryland, at Devcom, it was past midnight. Scientists Androvski and Patel were still in the lab, testing and searching for answers to the phenomenon they had witnessed. If there was one thing the two men possessed, it was dogged determination.
They questioned Andrew Smith, the trainee, about the weird, almost unimaginable incident that happened to him. Smith stated that he felt nothing abnormal at all, except that his shielding had turned off. Smith said that he just stood there wondering, looking at everyone pointing at him. “It was on the faces of everyone: a look of surprise and fear,” he told them.
“Okay, the film is ready,” Androvski said, as he turned on a large display screen and dimmed the lights.
“Good, we need to see this,” Patel replied, as he took a seat next to his friend.
The trainee came into view on the screen, then Patel attaching the Magnanotron and stepping away. The subject was smiling as the blue arcs of light started pulsing around his body. Then, a bit of static in the shield and he disappeared. Androvski stopped the video.
“Did you see that, Darious: the static? What could have caused that to happen?”
“Not sure,” Patel replied.
The video came on again, and… in a few seconds, the subject’s image reappeared out of nothing.
“Absolutely incredible,” Androvski added. “Let’s dig some more into the Magnanotron unit. We need to find out what the hell happened.”
“I don’t know about you, Peter, but it’s late and I’m exhausted,” Patel said.
“You’re right, my friend. I need some sleep, too,” Androvski replied. “We will get to it in the morning”
*
Off the coast of Yemen, a group of Houthi pirates were cruising in two heavily-armed patrol boats, when they spotted their prey: in the distance was a British commercial vessel, loaded with market goods.
The chief mate of the ship was on deck with his deckhands, when he spotted the trouble heading their way. He turned to his men; “Pirates on the stern! I’ll keep an eye on them.” He pointed them out. “Get inside and hit the alarm. Bring out our guns!”
The ship’s captain got word and scanned out to sea. He turned to his crew. “Full speed ahead!” he said, as he watched the pirate boats moving fast and closing in.
The pirate’s quick boats split up, one circling the ship, and the terrorists started firing wildly. The other boat moved up close, next to the hull of the ship.
On deck, the chief mate and crew, with weapons at the ready, moved into defensive positions, and started to return fire at the circling boat. The incoming fire was intense; two crewmen went down in pools of blood trying to defend the ship.
The chief was wondering where the other boat was; he went to the edge of the deck and started looked around. The chief spotted the boat and started shooting, but it was too late for him: he was shot up by the terrorists waiting below, and fell overboard.
The terrorists had rigged a rope ladder and, after much effort, managed to get it hooked up to the deck. The firefight continued, and the terrorists lost a few men in the firefight – one of the pirate boats was severely damaged – but eventually the terrorists fought their way on board. More crewmen and terrorists went down in the gunfire, as the terrorists fought their way up onto the bridge and took control of the ship.
The ship’s crew was rounded up. Eventually, everyone but the ship’s pilot was taken on deck and mercilessly thrown overboard.
Later in the day, as the cargo ship slipped into port, they were greeted with smiles and cheers; the pirates were rewarded for their senseless slaughter and theft of the vessel. More stolen funds for the terrorists and their evil ways; their celebration continued into the night.
*
In America, it was a bright, sunny June morning, as Androvski left the Dip Donut shop with two large coffees and a bag of fresh donuts. He drove into Devcom and made his way through the tight security. Androvski entered the lab and found his friend Darious was already busy at work.
Patel was using a Kolidakon Scientific – a high-power microscope – to analyze the micro-nano-circuitry of the Magnanotron unit. The work was tedious, at best; it would take the two scientists hours to carefully disassemble the mag-nano-electron units which were set in place and integrated into the Magnanotron device.
Darious looked up and smiled. “Ah-ha, my favorite morning food! Thanks,” he said, as he grabbed a coffee from Androvski.
“How we doing?” Androvski asked, as he took a seat.
“I was looking at the first layer of the micro-board,” Patel replied, “and the unit casing, but I don’t see any cracks, arcing or carbon traces.”
Hours later, the scientists had disassembled and gone through one of the two micro-layers, but nothing so far.
“Okay, Darious, take a break,” Androvski said. “Let me do some digging. There must be something that caused the static.”
About an hour later, Androvski was at the scope, scanning, when he caught sight of a slight mark between one of the micro-transistor chips and a switching diode module. “I got something here.” he said: “looks to be a little carbon trace.”
Darious took a look. “Yes, yes, I see it. It looks like we had a short. Some electron flow between the two modules and it burned clear.”
“That must be it,” Androvski added.
“And now the fun begins!” A wild look was in his eyes. “Maybe we can discover a way to control it.”
“Magnanotron and invisibility! I must be dreaming,” Darious added.
The two scientists smiled at each other, their minds running feverishly. Were they on the brink of another astounding discovery?
There was much work to do.
Chapter 6
BACK IN ACTION
Jason Patrick left Capcom for the ride home. Commander Ryan had issued the order, and the final go for the attacks on the terrorist bases in Syria and Yemen was a day or so away.
The rain was falling in torrents. The wind slammed into his SUV as he pulled off the interstate. Some streets were starting to get flooded. He had to slow down, as it was so hard to see ahead. Jason liked his new Ford; its all-wheel drive handled well in bad weather.
Once at home, Jason took off his soaked jacket and shoes. He was happy to spend a little time checking on his kids until dinner time was announced. Then, everyone gathered in the kitchen as Emma served Jason’s favorite: her baked ziti with homemade red sauce, meatballs and sausage.
Emma watched Jason as he dug in. She already knew the answer to her first question, so asked the second: “So, when does the mission start?”
Jason smiled and drained a little red wine. “How do you always know?”
“I can see it on your face: the distracted looks… and you always take special time with these two.” She pointed at Robby, with gravy on his chin, and Lori, who was unusually quiet.
Jason smiled and poured Emma some more wine. “Be staying over at Capcom for a day or so.”
And, so, Jason enjoyed his meal, his time at home, and the peace of being with family.
*
The following morning, at Fort Bragg, Tex was with Delta, finishing their setup for the coming mission. Their Magnanotron units were energized and checked, all weapons and gear at the ready.
“The boss called,” Tex said to his team: “final meeting at nine a.m., in Capcom.”
“Been too quiet,” Tommy Blacknal said. “We need to kick some terrorist ass again.”
“Roger on that,” Blair added with a smile, as he held his new 6.8mm Sig Sauer XM7 assault rifle. “Let’s get it on!” The powerful, hard-hitting XM7 was now the new standard for Special Forces.
*
In Iran, Supreme Leader Al Kalmani was in his office in Tehran, when Defense Minister Moham Easka arrived with an update on the secret Persia project. Kalmani had only a select group of technicians and security personnel in the loop; in fact, just a select few of Iran’s military leaders knew it existed.
To Kalmani, nothing mattered more than to be one who would live eternally in the eyes of his twisted Gods. A hero, he believed he would be, for setting his people free of Israel and the Zionists. He didn’t care about his own life, or the death and destruction that would come to his people from the massive retaliation against Iran if they launched atomic warheads.
Easka had been feeling uneasy as he walked in and nervously took a seat.
“So, how are things going?” Kalmani asked.
“The construction in south Yemen is on track,” Easka replied, looking at his notes. “We do have a bit of a problem, though: a technical delay at Natanz.”
“Oh, no, I don’t like problems,” Kalmani replied, his anger building.
“It’s the last batch of uranium,” Easka replied: “the scientists have rejected it. They say it is not up to standards.”
“What standards?” Kalmani said. “This cannot happen. We can afford no delays!”
Easka could feel his nerves coming on. He tried to calm himself as he replied: “They have it all here.” Easka handed the report over. “Lots of science and chemistry going on, but basically it says the uranium is not ready.”
Kalmani grabbed the papers and stood up. “I will see for myself. We will visit tomorrow and talk to those idiots at Natanz.”
Easka was dismissed, as Kalmani poured himself a drink and tried to calm down.
Later, he got busy, getting things arranged and ready for his trip in the morning.
*
In America, the seas were calm and the skies clear, as the destroyer USS Zumwalt left San Diego Naval Base and slipped out of port. With full shielding now added to its bristling array of weaponry, the captain on board gave the order. The ship headed out to sea and their final destination: the Middle East.
*
At Fort Bragg, Jason finished his call with Commander Ryan.
Ryan told Jason that Intelligence had given him an update: they got another hit, and were confident that there was some good data on lots of activity from a server located at a base in Syria. The two officers discussed details of the mission, and what was going on at the Syrian location.
Before long, the mission meeting was underway at Capcom. Delta was in place, as Jason stood pointing to a large display screen. A detailed map of Syria and the surrounding area was on the screen.
“The Yemen mission has been handed off to air and naval assets,” Jason said, “and, as you can see, our target is now in Syria. The Iranian-backed proxies, Hezbollah, have been carrying out missile and drone attacks. They keep going at our friends in Israel, and they hit our own base at Al-Tanf.”
Jason pointed at the display; “Our target is near Tartus. It’s about ten miles inland from the Red Sea.”
“Why the switch from Yemen?” Tex asked.
“The attacks on Israel continue and we need to put a stop to it. Intel has traced heavy network activity at this location,” Jason replied. “The boss wants us to take it out, and grab all related intel and computer equipment. It could be a way deeper into their networks.”
“Good, I get to blow something up again!” Jorge Morales added, with a smile.
The team started laughing and joking about Jorge and his glee for explosives.
“Time for fooling around is over,” Jason said, and they stopped. “Delta will be on a flight in a matter of hours. Touch down will be at our base at Al-Tanf, and then it’s a night drop to target.”
“Any air assets involved in the assault?” Blair asked.
“Good question,” Jason replied. “Yes, there will be; they’re going to hit their missile launchers, radar stations and ground troops. The air attack will be timed for right before we go in, but no heavy bombs; Capcom wants the servers and intel intact.”
The meeting went on, and all details were discussed. Everyone in Delta was ready for another Magnanotron-shielded assault.
*
In Iran, Supreme Leader Kalmani and his top scientist, Elmani Altoli, arrived at the nuclear complex at Natanz, Isfahan Province, and made their way through security to meet with the lead technicians. Altoli was one of the chosen, a close advisor and the guru on all things technical.
“What happened? What standards?” Kalmani asked with a frown.
One of the scientists handed Altoli the test results. “It’s the uranium: the U-235 level is below the percentage needed.” He paused for a moment. “It will need further enrichment.”
“Enough of these reports about the enrichment; this was supposed to be done already,” Kalmani yelled, clearly upset. “No more delays!”
Elmani Altoli looked over the results and turned to Kalmani; “I understand, Your Excellency, but after all our efforts… when we think all is ready, then nothing much happens when we push the button…”
The words sunk in; Kalmani’s frown turned to a smile. “I see now… I must have results: gigantic explosions! Nothing can ruin my surprise.” Kalmani started laughing, and before long it spread around the room.
Kalmani turned to Altoli; “When are you leaving for Syria?”
“Later today,” Altoli replied. “I have to get the defense systems in Syria, at Tartus, set up and running.”
“Good, then our business is done here,” Kalmani added.
Before long, the meeting ended, with promises given to get things ready as soon as possible.
*
Back at Fort Bragg, Jason drove out to the airfield and watched Delta forming up out on the tarmac. He waved them off, as Delta moved in single file boarding a large transport aircraft. As always, he prayed for his men heading into harm’s way, and for a successful mission.
Later that evening, on board the long-range, turbo-prop C-295 transport, Delta was unusually quiet, everyone grabbing some sleep for the non-stop mission ahead. The drumming of the plane continued as the transport flew on, heading northeast toward the Mediterranean Sea.
Time went by… the transport flew on…
…Finally, Tex broke the silence: “Okay guys, get your ass up! It’s about an hour to landing.”
“I’ll take a coffee to go,” Tommy Blacknal replied, with a smile. “Light and sweet, just like me.”
“Hot and black, while you’re at it,” McDonough replied. “None of that sissy stuff for me.”
And so the friendly banter continued, as Delta prepared for departure at the Al-Tanf military base.
Chapter 7
EVOLUTION AND ATTACK
Back at Devcom, Peter Androvski and Darious Patel were in their world of micro-circuitry and algorithms. They had burned out two micro-circuit boards trying to duplicate the mysterious sequence that made the subject, Smith, disappear from view.
Androvski looked up from his Kolidakon microscope. “With the shunt now inline and conducting to what should be the correct switching diode, we should have the anomaly at hand.” He turned to Darious; “Be ready to shut down the main invector drive and power converter, on my call.”
“I got it. Everything looks good… all video and output sensors are in place,” Darious replied. “The subject is ready.”
The new subject was a spider monkey, who was sitting and eating a carrot, up in his cage on the workbench. Androvski energized the Magnanotron, and slowly the monkey’s body was outlined in the familiar blue arcs of light.
“Shielding is at full nano-electro-magnetic flow,” Darious said, full of excitement. “Core-flux density is nominal and holding firm.”
Androvski waited, hoping for success… then energized the shunt.
The blue arcs blinked and the monkey was gone.
“Oh, my god!” Androvski jumped out of his chair, looking at his friend Darious. “We did it again, but this time it was no accident!”
Darious was breathless, looking at the cage. “Let’s try to bring him back.”
“Yes! Yes, of course, of course.”
Androvski took his seat and released the shunt. The Magnanotron shut down.
“There! There he is! It’s incredible!” Patel replied, jumping with joy.
The two scientists stood frozen in the moment, and watched the unshielded monkey, their minds full of questions that needed to be answered.
*
In Washington, President Jameson was at a special meeting with Joint Chief General Stanis and CIA Director Rob Tanner. Jameson looked over the intelligence report Agent Tanner had given him.
“This looks good. Let’s hope the coming mission goes well.”
“Thanks, Mr. President,” Tanner replied. “If we get some hard drives from those servers, my people will hack into their networks.”
“The operations in Syria and Yemen are underway, sir,” General Stanis replied. “We have an airstrike timed alongside the Delta insertion.” He sipped his coffee and continued: “Our naval and air assets, along with another insertion by a Navy Seal team, are set to hit the Houthi in northern Yemen at the same time.”
“Good, let’s pray we have success,” the president smiled. “Let’s smash them in the mouth and steal their secrets.”
“Yes sir, a good smash in the mouth!” Stanis replied. “I love it.” Laughs went around the table.
A large display screen came on, showing the Middle East and the locations of the attacks. Jameson was eager for some news. Before long, dinner arrived in the situation room; it was going to be a long night.
*
At the Army’s Al-Tanf base in Syria, Delta had touched down and were waiting at the airstrip, ready for the final go from Capcom. Out on the tarmac, a V-22 Osprey tiltrotor aircraft was warming up.
“This is the hard part for me,” Blair said: “the waiting and wondering how it will go.”
Just as Blair finished talking, Tex’s uplink came on and Capcom confirmed.
“Okay, team, that’s it, let’s move out,” Tex said, and Delta headed out toward the waiting transport. Quickly, in single file, they boarded the Osprey.
Once on board, Morales turned to Blair. “Waiting? Oh, man… that stuff is easy,” he smiled; “doing a night drop into enemy territory is not.”
“Amen to that, brother,” Blacknal replied, as the rest of Delta started in on Blair about the hard-to-wait thing. A little diversion always helped ease the tension.
*
At the terrorist base, near Tartus, Syria, Kalmani’s lead technician, Elmani Atoli, had just finished the initial setup of their new, Russian-made missile defense and attack system. He brought the system online and made some modifications to the radar display, with his laptop and special software.
“Okay, everything is ready,” he said to the operators. “Don’t touch anything, unless the warning indicators come on and indicate what’s happening. The system is now on full auto.”
Atoli went on, giving the operators the basics of the system controls. He would be at the base for a few days, until the operator training was complete. It was now getting late and Atoli was exhausted, so he headed for his quarters and some much-needed sleep.
Tomorrow’s another day, he thought to himself.
*
It was early morning out on the Red Sea, as the Nimitz-class carrier, the USS Lincoln, turned into position about thirty-five miles off the coast of Syria; Admiral Sinclair was on board and gave the order. Before long, four Lockheed Martin F-35 stealth aircraft lifted off the massive ship, and headed fast and low for the Syrian coastline.
*
On board the Osprey, the pilot came onto the com: “Wake up, everybody. We got about ten minutes to target location.”
Tex stood up. “Who the hell could sleep with those big turbos buzzing away?” He looked at the men. “Check your gear. Let’s line it up.”
“Not my first rodeo,” Blair replied, as he stood up and looked over at Rob Calibari, the new team member. “You look worried.”
“I’m good,” Calibari replied; “a little nervous is all.”
“Remember your training,” Tex added. “Relax. Everyone has a first time.”
Calibari was a combat-experienced former Marine. He came to Delta with recommendations from Centcom and made the cut.
*
Up in the skies, the F35 pilots had studied the location and terrain maps. Each pilot had his targeting system locked in and ready to release a load of Paveway-3 laser-guided smart-bombs. Out of the night sky, the formation streaked toward the Syrian base and their targets.
Inside the terrorist base, the missile defense system went to full alarm. The defense control operators also picked up a radar warning.
“We are under attack!” one of the control operators said, as the system turned on the base alarms.
The terrorists were scrambling around the base as the first of the Paveways slammed into their primary attack system – the mobile missile launchers, which were parked under large camouflage coverings – resulting in ground-shaking explosions. Tremendous shockwaves rocked the base and a giant fireball lit up the night sky.
The F-35s banked into a wide turn, getting back into formation and set for another run.
*
One by one, Delta jumped off the Osprey, gliding down in the night sky, like birds on the wing. Young Calibari let go of his fear and stayed focused, as he glided down next to Tex.
McDonough rolled in first. He hit the sandy terrain hard, but was okay. It wasn’t long before everyone had their chutes off and were gathered up.
Tex checked his uplink. “We got two miles or so to target.” He pointed north; “Blair you take point.”
It was a clear, moonlit night, as Delta made their run through the rock-strewn, sandy terrain. If the terrorists only knew what was coming for them, they would have run for their lives.
Delta was soon about a quarter-mile from target, moving low and fast.
“Feel that?” Tex said, pointing to the bright flashes of the smart-bombs as they exploded. “Here we go.”
On Delta pushed, feeling the ground shaking under their feet, and the shockwaves of the blasts.
The Russian-made air-defense system was part of the main compound and was still intact. The missile system had a lock and unleashed on the attack jets. Delta watched as bright streaks of light lanced out into the night skies.
“We got bogeys coming,” the lead F-35 airman said, as he picked it up on his scan array. “Engage evasive maneuvers.”
The pilots hit their afterburners and went into hard turns; some gained altitude. Two missiles missed the mark, but the other two closed in on the F35s, as they released countermeasures.
“I got one closing on me,” one of the pilots said, as he went into a steep dive. Thanks to the quick maneuver, the missile exploded just behind the F35, but it rocked the jet hard. The pilot, tag-name “Tango”, slowed down, his warning lights flashing as he struggled to get control. “I… I got some damage… I think I can manage it.”
“Roger on that, Tango. Keep me updated. Let’s bring it home,” the squad leader replied, as the jets moved back into formation and headed back for the carrier.
*
Back at Bragg, Jason and some select officers were in the command center when the uplink came on the com.
“The attack is underway,” an operator from the Al-Tanf base reported. “Will advise when Delta gives us another update. Copy.”
“Copy that: attack underway,” Capcom replied.
*
In Syria, Delta moved in close and watched from the cover of night. They were dug in and shielded, as several cruise missiles that launched from the Lincoln hit home. Tex could feel the ground shake beneath him, as the shockwaves ripped through the landscape. After a few minutes, the smoke and dust cleared.
Tex scanned the base with his night-vision scope. “The place is hit good. Get weapons ready.” He pointed; “I take point. We move out. The compound is straight ahead.”
*
Down inside the base there were survivors. A dozen armed guards huddled deep inside the underground complex.
With the attack over, they ran, grabbed their heavy weapons and started to head up to the main corridor.
Kalmani’s man, Elmani Atoli, and his group of technicians, were in the control room when the bombs hit. They could feel the rumbling vibrations, the power went out and the base alarm came on. Elmani locked the main door and his group waited, wondering in the darkness.
Inside a deep, reinforced bunker on the base perimeter, one of the head terrorists was thinking the attack was over. He gathered his men, and they grabbed their weapons and headed out.
They ran toward the main compound, then watched, with fear in their eyes, as blue arcs of light came moving out of the darkness.
“Look! We are under attack!” the leader said, and his group opened fire.
But Delta kept coming at them, running fast through the fiery wreckage.
“Incoming!” Dudash yelled out.
The enemy bullet-tracers and rounds were hitting and lancing off of their Magnanotron shields, as Delta stormed into the base and opened fire. Delta moved, took cover and fired in short, accurate bursts. The new guy Robert Calibari was caught up in it; feeling no fear, he was part of the team.
Before long, the firing slowed and Tex called a ceasefire. The firefight was over.
Tex looked over his team and pointed to the compound. “Headsets on. We go in nice and slow, check everything.”
“Roger on that, boss,” Blacknal replied, as he popped a clip and racked his XM7 assault rifle.
“Nothin’ like a firefight to get the blood up,” Blair added, with a smile.
The smell of burnt gunpowder and smoke hung heavy, as Delta formed up at the compound entrance. The heavy steel door was locked tight.
Tex looked at Morales. “Okay, Jorge, do your thing!”
“Got it,” Morales said. He placed a charge of C-4 into the doorframe and ran back for cover.
The explosion blew a massive hole where the doorway once stood. The unique burning-gunpowder smell of the battlefield filled the air, as Delta rushed inside.
The terrorist guards heard and felt the entrance blow to hell. The group started to move down the main hallway. And then, through the darkness, they took in the sight of the blue arcs of light: the soldiers coming for them. The terrorists opened fire but, with shields up, Delta kept coming at them. Delta cut them down with accurate bursts of fire, and Jorge fired his auto-assault shotgun, full of buckshot, until it was empty. The guards tried, but never stood a chance.
Tex gathered up his team and called in to Capcom on the uplink: “Tango, Tango, Delta has the location secured. Will advise for extraction. Copy.”
“We copy that, Delta,” Tango replied: “location is secured.”
Tex looked at his men. “Okay, people, we split into pairs and sweep the place.” He pointed as he spoke; “Blair, you and our new man Calibari check the building: we’re looking for information, computers, phones – any intel we can find.”
He paused for a moment. “Morales, you’re with me. McDonough, you and Blacknal, get outside, search and secure the base perimeter.”
Quickly, the team dispersed, their night-vision headsets on, and slipped into the darkness.
Chapter 8
LOSS AND SACRIFICE
Back in the skies, the F-35 fighter formation was over the Red Sea, when the pilot in the damaged aircraft, Lieutenant Baker, came on the com: “Fox 4, Fox 4… I have to back off approach; my operations display shows multiple malfunctions. I… I’m having control problems… It’s not getting any better. Copy?”
“We copy that, Fox 4,” the squadron leader came back, as he pulled behind Baker. “I can see it: some damage to your tailfins. Abort the aircraft! Eject. Copy? Eject!”
Baker tried to focus as he checked his altitude, slowed his aircraft, released the safety and engaged the ejection handle… but the overhead canopy did not pop away. Desperately, he pulled the lever again and again.
“Fox 4, Fox 4, my canopy is not releasing!” Baker said, trying to calm himself down.
“Roger on that, Fox 4,” the squad leader replied. “Slow down a little; take her in nice and easy. We’re going in first, to get out of the way for you. Copy?”
Baker watched as the F-35 formation accelerated and headed for the carrier. He was on manual controls, but some systems were down and he had trouble constantly correcting his pitch and elevation. To make matters worse, the winds were strong and gusting.
On board the USS Lincoln, Admiral Sinclair and his crew were up on the bridge, listening in on the com. They stood and watched as the sleek jets landed on the deck below. Everyone on board was concerned as they received word of Lieutenant Baker and his wounded aircraft. The deck was clear, emergency crews on standby, as the wounded F-35 came into view.
Baker struggled to stay focused, his nerves shot, as he tried to line up and approach the carrier deck. As good as it’s going to get, he thought to himself, as he drew closer.
Up on the bridge, all eyes were on the approaching jet. The admiral prayed for Lieutenant Baker, and that he would find a way to bring it home.
“He’s going too fast! The pitch – it’s not right,” the squad leader said, as his crew took in the sight, hoping for Baker.
Baker had the massive carrier before him, and he went in for the landing. But he just missed the arresting cable; the front landing gear hit the deck at the wrong angle, and the nose of the aircraft scraped along the runway.
In a matter of seconds, Flight Lieutenant Baker’s world went black; as the F-35 rolled toward mid-ship, it impacted and scraped along the reinforced steel plates of the bridge walls and exploded into pieces.
Admiral Sinclair’s heart sank. He watched in horror as the rescue crews ran to help. Their fire hoses in hand, they sprayed down the fiery wreckage.
*
Back at the terrorist base in Syria, specialists Blacknal and McDonough had the base perimeter checked and secured. They stripped the dead terrorists, gathered their weapons and checked through everything. They discovered that a large ammo dump and weapons storage area was next to a bunker, out at the edge of the perimeter; it was still intact.
Inside the compound, Blair and Calibari found an office area, with a laptop and cell phone sitting on top of a small desk. They grabbed the intel and continued onward.
Tex and Morales had descended a long stairway and found a set of locked steel doors.
“This room has to be where the servers are,” Tex said, and turned to Morales. “Blast them open, Jorge.”
Jorge leveled his shotgun and blew a hole where the doorknob once was. Tex kicked the door open.
Inside the control room, Elmani Atoli and his assistants heard the blast. Full of panic, they huddled below a large, wooden table.
Tex and Morales rushed inside, their weapons at the ready.
Jason turned his rifle-mounted flashlight and scanned the room. “Look there: that’s the servers and com systems.”
“We got company!” Jorge said, as he spotted Altoli and his friends under the table. “Stand up! Get your hands up!” Jorge yelled out, as he moved in close.
“No shoot, no shoot!” Atoli and his friends yelled out.
Tex checked them for weapons and Jorge secured them with wrist-straps. The technicians were carrying on, until Morales pointed his rifle and told them: “Calm down and shut the hell up, or I will shoot you all!” The room went quiet.
Blair Crouse and Rob Calibari arrived, and the team got busy searching and stripping the servers. Morales found a gas-line valve, and before leaving he opened it, placing a C-4 pack with remote detonator on the gas pipes. Once everyone was outside, Tex had Jorge place the last of the C-4 in the ammo dump.
With the technicians in tow, Delta headed out toward the landing zone for extraction.
*
Back at Fort Bragg, Jason was in Capcom when the call came in that Delta had secured the intel and captured three terrorists. The team was ready for extraction.
Thank God! Delta did it again! Jason said to himself, with a sigh of relief. He turned to his com specialist; “Let’s get them the hell out of there.”
Jason went into his office to make his call to Commander Ryan with the good news.
*
Off the southeast coast of Yemen, the aircraft carrier USS Gerald Ford went to full alert. The mighty ship’s commander gave the go for the attack to commence on the Houthi terrorist base, located about fifteen miles north.
One after another, a squadron of supersonic F-35C jets launched off the carrier deck, followed by the blast-off of several cruise missiles. Officers on the bridge watched the awesome display of power, as the attack aircraft and missiles streaked out for the horizon.
*
At the LZ in Syria, Jorge Morales checked his uplink and turned to Tex. “The fireworks are coming, boss,” he said, as he pointed toward the compound.
“Nothing like a big bang to cap it off,” Blair said, with a smile.
Just as Blair finished talking, a series of bright flashes and thundering explosions lit up the night. The ammo dump starting banging away, as the heat of the blast and fire set off the munitions.
McDonough looked at Jorge with a big smile on his face. “Wow, my man! This one might be your best yet!”
Everyone got a laugh in. Again, it helped ease the tension.
*
A few hours later, Delta was back at the US Army base in Al-Tanf, Syria. They were welcomed by the base commander, and handed over the three prisoners to security. Then Delta got busy checking through the captured intel.
“What’s this?” Tex said, as he looked at Elmani Atoli’s laptop.
“I found it in an office room,” Calibari replied, with a smile. “There’s a cell phone, too.”
“Good work,” Tex added; “the geeks back at Capcom love this kinda stuff.”
Before long, a tired and weary Delta straggled into their temporary quarters, and a few hours of much-needed sleep before the long ride home.
*
In Iran, Supreme Leader Al Kalmani left a meeting with his military advisors. He went to his office, and was furious at the news that two of his prime attack bases had been destroyed, and his top tech man Elmani Atoli was gone, missing or dead. Al Kalmani paced about, talking to himself: “These fucking Americans! Without them… I would have my way.”
He reminded himself to keep up the pressure over Persia, for his ultimate attack on Israel and the infidels.
*
Back at The White House, President Jameson was with Joint Chief General Stanis, CIA Director Rob Tanner and other key cabinet members.
“Mr. President, Commander Ryan has reported the bases in Syria and Yemen are no more,” General Stanis said, as he looked over his report. “In Syria, Delta forces seized the intel intact, and have prisoners in custody.”
Stanis hesitated, thinking how to say what was next. “We do have some bad news, sir: we lost a good airman; his F-35 was damaged by a defense missile during the attack… most likely Russian-made. Naval Aviator Lieutenant Baker crashed as he was attempting a landing on our carrier.”
Jameson’s face tightened, his smile gone. “Sorry to hear that. I need to give his family a call. It’s time to have a hard talk with President Grekov and the Russian military; their support for Iran has got to end.”
Jameson looked around the table. “Good news or bad, we need to keep these terrorist bastards on the run, until they understand we want peace and stability in the region.”
“My people would love to dig into the intel,” CIA Director Rob Tanner added; “it may be our chance to find out what they’re up to with their nukes.”
Tanner smiled. “And, the prisoners, Mr. President… I have someone: a close associate we have used in the past. He will find out what they know. He’s the best.”
Jameson smiled and sipped his coffee. He looked to General Stanis, who gave him a nod of approval then continued: “I have a bad feeling about these nuts in Iran. I leave the digging to you guys; do whatever it takes.”
The meeting went on, calls were made and plans discussed, for dealing with Iran and the ever-volatile Middle East.
*
Up in the skies, Delta was finally on the transport and heading home. They shared some rations and water with the prisoners.
Kalmani’s man, Elmani Atoli, was unusually quiet, but his friends, both nervous, kept yelling about how they were “…just workers, not terrorists!” Morales warned them to stop, but they kept at it. Jorge ended up gagging them, by wrapping ace bandages over their mouths.
“Ah… peace and quiet,” Tex said, as he looked over his ragged crew. “It was a good mission. And now, with our shielding, it makes it a whole lot better.”
“Amen to that, brother,” Blacknal replied. “Thank God we’ve got it.”
Everyone had something to say about how it felt to be Superman. It was some funny stuff.
To keep busy, Delta checked over their gear, then stripped their assault rifles and started cleaning them. After a while, things on board settled down, as the transport made a turn and headed northwest over African skies...
The following day, at Fort Bragg, Jason watched the big transport plane taxi to a stop. He took in the view of Delta as they departed the transport. He missed the front lines, the feeling of relief and satisfaction at being back safe from a successful mission.
Tex handed over the prisoners, and two MPs placed them in the back of a jeep and drove off. He spotted Jason waving at him.
“Let’s go, guys. Make sure we have everything; gather your gear. The commander is waiting.”
Blair lifted one of the large duffel bags, which was filled with the captured intel. “Man, this thing’s heavy! What the hell’s in here?”
“That bag goes straight to Capcom,” Tex replied, as Delta headed for their mission briefing.
Chapter 9
THE HOMEFRONT
At the Devcom science lab, Peter Androvski and Darious Patel had been working day after day, spending long hours trying to get a full understanding of the evolution: the science behind how Magnanotron could transform itself into a cloaking device. It was early morning, and finally the two scientists had the knowledge they so desperately wanted.
“Before Commander Ryan arrives, let’s sum things up,” Androvski said, as he looked at his friend, Darious; “let’s go over our discoveries.”
“Agreed, we do need to finish up the report,” Darious replied. “First off, we learned that, luckily, the meta-materials used in Magnanotron allow the shield to interact with light. We also learned that, when the shunt is energized, phase manipulation takes place.”
“Yes, my friend, I agree,” Androvski added. “And, as the transformation takes place, the flux density changes across multiple wavelengths. This sequence effectively bends and redirects the light waves, making it appear as if nothing is there. It sounds simple enough, but we know there are variables going on, hidden properties that we have yet to discover.”
“That about sums it up for now,” Darious replied. “Oh, and remember, we also found out that once switched over to cloaking, the Magnanotron shielding stops until switched back.”
“Agreed,” Androvski added; “it’s one or the other.”
*
It was a cool, gray day at the naval air station in San Diego, California. A transport aircraft taxied to a stop in front of a long line of soldiers, standing at attention in full-dress uniforms. The mood was somber, as US Navy Admiral Sinclair, Special Forces Commander Ryan Thompson and other military officers stood watching.
The station commander pointed as the bay door opened on the aircraft. “Okay… let’s bring Lieutenant Baker back home.”
Six fellow airmen broke formation and headed inside the aircraft. Before long, the soldiers reappeared and, slowly, in half-step, carried Baker’s flag-draped coffin down past the line; each man saluted as they passed by.
Onward the procession continued, past Baker’s wife and family, in grief, their tears flowing. Everyone watched in sorrow, as the coffin with the man – the soldier – who gave his all was placed into a waiting vehicle.
*
Back at Fort Bragg, Tex watched as a group of CIA agents took possession of the intel and the three prisoners. He talked briefly with Rob Tanner, and found out that he was an old friend of Jason. Before long, the group of suits was packed up and left for the airfield and their ride back to the Pentagon.
Delta was in good spirits. During the debriefing they found out that everyone was getting a week off, starting tomorrow, for a job well done. “I get to be with my Jessica,” Morales said, with a smile.
“I say we all head to the bar,” McDonough added; “drink it up tonight, before we leave.”
“Good idea: cold beer and hot pizza sounds good,” Tex said.
He turned to the new guy; “You been quiet, Calibari. How was your first night fight?”
“I… I was nervous at first – afraid, actually,” Calibari replied, “but watching you guys in action got me going good.”
Tex put his hand on Calibari’s shoulder. “That’s good, soldier, ‘cos anybody that tells you they weren’t afraid in a full assault is full of shit.”
Calibari smiled, and the team got back to the usual laughing and joking around.
*
In the countryside of Fayetteville, it was a fine, sunny and cool spring morning, as Jason baited his hook and slipped into his favorite trout-fishing spot along the Cross Creek River. Jason was happy: Delta was home, the kids were in school and the mission was a success.
He thought of his son Robby, as he cast his line out to the deep water. A few more years and, like his father, his son would be fishing with him.
*
In The White House, President Jameson was patiently waiting for his call to President Grekov to connect.
Finally, Grekov came on. “Yes, Mr. President? How are you?”
“I am well, but very concerned,” Jameson replied. “Your friends over in Iran and their proxies… the unprovoked attacks… it has to stop.”
“We want peace in the region,” Grekov lied. “It seems that your own military has been busy over there.”
Jameson had had enough; “American lives are being lost with these terrorist attacks. They’re trying to control the seas! Do you think we’re stupid?”
“I did not say that. I have talked with the Iranians; they don’t listen,” Grekov lied again. In fact, ever since Russia’s oil profits had tanked, Grekov was desperate, and happy to take the millions in profits from his arms sales to Iran.
“The time for talking may be over,” Jameson replied. “We know of the Russian-made weapons used by Iran. We also know Iran is up to something on the nuclear side of things.”
Jameson hesitated. “I don’t trust terrorists. We’re not going to sit on our hands until it’s too late and we have a disaster.”
“I understand your concerns,” Grekov replied; “no need to make threats.”
“It seems you don’t understand, Mr. President,” Jameson added. “That’s not a threat, it is a promise.”
The call ended. President Jameson was satisfied with the outcome.
Jameson checked his schedule: he had more to do; a big day ahead.
*
Back in Maryland, Special Forces Commander Ryan Thompson walked into Devcom, remembering the last time the scientists had called him there. What do they have for me now? he asked himself, as he was let into the sprawling science-lab area.
“Ah, how are you, sir?” Androvski said, as he shook hands with Ryan. “Please, this way, sir. We have something you need to see.”
“Reminds me of last time. You’re getting me excited,” Ryan added as he followed.
Ryan was introduced to Andrew Smith and took a seat. He noticed a Magnanotron unit was mounted to Smith’s right wrist.
“Sir, we have another discovery,” Darious Patel explained. “It seems that Magnanotron has evolved into something more.”
“The amazing thing about discoveries, sir, is that some of them are uncovered by accident,” Androvski added, with a smile, “such as the one you’re about to see.”
Smith stood in the testing area, dressed in Army fatigues, an array of cameras pointing at him, and sensors attached to his body.
“Okay let’s fire it up,” Androvski said.
Andrew Smith energized Magnanotron. His body was soon covered in the blue arcs of light.
Androvski turned to Ryan; “As you can see, the subject is in full shielding. Now I am going to switch over.”
Before Ryan could reply, Smith vanished before his eyes.
“What the hell just happened?! He… he was just standing right there!” Ryan said, in astonishment.
“But I am here, sir,” Smith said. “I’m looking right at you, Commander.”
Ryan was shocked, caught up in wonder, as he looked at the two scientists smiling at him.
“I know it is overwhelming, sir,” Patel said, “but it is real. Magnanotron has evolved.”
He walked toward the testing area. “Okay, Smith, let’s have a look at you again.”
Smith turned off his Magnanotron shield and, gradually, his features came back into view.
“We have a shielded soldier who can disappear from sight…! My god!” Ryan said, as he stood up and shook Smith’s hand. “We need to take this miracle to the joint chief.”
After a moment to gather himself and calm down, Ryan poured himself a cup of coffee and sat with the group.
“I hope this discovery is all kept tight. Security is everything – as we learned with the Russian thing… Who else knows about this?” Ryan asked.
“Just a select few of my group, sir,” Androvski replied. “Everything is safe here; lots of security measures already in place.”
“Good. Call me if you need anything at all,” Ryan replied, with a smile, as he shook hands with the scientists.
“You guys are too much,” Ryan added, as he was leaving. “You might want to get things ready,” he said. “I will make some calls; there will be another big presentation coming.”
*
In Iran, Supreme Leader Al Kalmani was with Defense Minister Moham Easka, at the Natanz Nuclear Facility. They were happy to hear the enrichment was well underway and ahead of schedule.
“Come this way, Your Excellency,” Eska said; “we have a new delivery.” He smiled. “It’s one you have been waiting for.”
“It’s my rockets!” Kalmani smiled. “Oh, yes, let me see them!”
Kalmani and his group made their way through the sprawling complex, into a large garage and storage area.
“Ah, there is my big prize!” Kalmani said, smiling and pointing at his new, Russian-made, long-range, supersonic ballistic missiles.
“It’s remarkable, is it not?” Eska added. “And they will fit our new mobile launchers. We have the control system for them in Yemen.”
“They cost a fortune, but it’s all coming together, my friends,” Kalmani smiled. “We just need the warheads… then we will be ready to fulfill our destiny.”
*
In Washington, Commander Ryan and the two Devcom scientists, Darious Patel and Peter Androvski, entered The White House. They were escorted to the Cabinet Room, and found Joint Chief General Stanis and President Jameson waiting for them.
“Welcome, Commander. I hear you have some great news,” Jameson said, as handshakes went around.
“Yes, sir, we do,” Ryan replied. “I was there… You have to see the video to believe it, sir.”
Darious Patel got busy, hooking his laptop to the large display system. “We have found and researched a new discovery…” Androvski smiled. “Magnanotron shielding can now evolve into something more, sir.”
The lights dimmed and the video came on, showing the image of Andrew Smith. Smith was smiling as the blue arcs of Magnanotron started pulsing around him… then he faded from view.
President Jameson watched, listening to the commotion on screen, and then the image of Smith reappeared.
“What is this…? How did that happen?” Jameson asked.
“Mr. President, we have stumbled upon a hidden property within Magnanotron,” Androvski replied: “it’s a way to bend light; the wavelengths and phase density make it happen.”
General Stanis chuckled. “What we have here, sir, is another Star Trek thing. Incredibly, it seems that Magnanotron is also a cloaking device.”
Jameson was speechless at first, his mind racing as he looked at the scientists. “Oh, my god! This… this is truly amazing! How many of these do we have?”
“Just one, sir,” Darius Patel replied, “but, since Magnanotron is already in place, the conversions should take some time, but not that long.”
Jameson turned to General Stanis; “Whatever you need, just let me know and it’s yours. Remember, security is critical here,” Jameson smiled; “we keep it tight and right.”
“Yes, sir, I am on it,” Stanis replied.
The meeting continued for another half-hour, with more concerns, details and plans shared.
Chapter 10
CONFLICT AND DISCOVERY
At the Pentagon, Rob Tanner and his team of specialists had gone through the intel that was captured in Syria. Tanner believed they now had a way into the terrorist network, but his techs were still working on it. A lot of contact information was found on a laptop and cell phone, with the repeated reference to the name “Persia”. Tanner was in his office, thinking: What the hell is this “Persia” thing? We must find out.
Then, the call came in that he was waiting for: the captured subjects were in the interrogation room, and Max was set to arrive at any moment.
Tanner was full of anticipation, as he made his way to the elevator and down to the secluded bottom floor. He walked down a long corridor, and found a guard waiting at the door to the interrogation room. Tanner entered the sparsely furnished and dimly lit room, with the subjects strapped to wooden chairs in the middle of it.
“Please, I’m a technician. No secrets,” the thin one said.
Tanner looked at the clearly upset man; he noticed the other two were fairly calm. Unknown to him, the heavy-set one was Elmani Atoli, Kalmani’s right-hand man. Tanner noticed that he had a look of anger on his face. This one – he may know, Tanner said to himself.
“Okay, the time to talk is now… before things get hard for you three,” Tanner said, as he paced around them.
“I am a poor worker… fighting for Allah no more,” the thin, nervous one said in broken English.
Tanner looked at Elmani, his eyes glaring. Tanner moved closer and Elmani spat at him.
“Okay… so, that’s how it will go?” Tanner said, just as Max entered the room.
Anyone who didn’t know Max – the imposing, tall, lean African American, with a thick beard – sensed a “stay-clear” warning by his appearance.
Max stood staring at the subjects, then turned to Rob Tanner. “I see we have some company,” he said, as he placed his big, black bag on a small, wooden table. Max looked at the prisoners. I’ll take the angry one first, he said to himself.
The thin one started screaming, as Max walked Tanner to the door. “I will squeeze it out,” Max smiled. “It’ll take some time.”
Tanner shook his friend’s hand with a smile, as he left. “I know they’re in good hands.”
Max locked the door.
The hours went by.
Tanner studied the captured laptop, and kept thinking about the words “Persia” and “a glorious victory for Allah; the end of Zion”.
It was getting late, so he went out and got some takeout from Max’s favorite restaurant.
Tanner brought the food in and found Max sitting in his office.
“The skinny one knows nothing; he’s just a technician and so is his friend,” Max said, “but the other angry one, he was a tough nut to crack.” Max smiled; “You might want to call Medical.”
“You sound like I’d better do that now!” Tanner said, as he got out his cell and called upstairs to Medical.
Max looked at his notes. “He works for the supreme leader of Iran. Plans are underway to launch a nuclear strike on Israel.” Max sipped his coke. “He was supposed to go down to the southern coast of Yemen, and get the launch system up and running.”
Tanner stopped taking notes. “What kind of system?”
Max looked at his notes. “The base systems: defense and attack, along with a new, mobile missile launcher. It seems they have a new, supersonic missile from our friends in Russia.”
“Goddamn it! This is nuts!” Tanner said, with anger.
“And, last, but not least,” Max replied, “they’re waiting on the warhead; it’s coming from Natanz, Iran.”
“This is too much. I’ve got to get the word out.” Tanner shook his friend’s hand. “You are the best, my friend.”
As Tanner finished talking, a group of paramedics rushed in.
“Okay, Rob. Thanks for the food; it looks good. Be right back,” Max said with a smile, as he left and guided the medical team down to his victim.
*
In Fayetteville, Jason was up with the kids, and made it through their usual school-time antics. He then gave Emma a hug and stepped out into the cool morning air.
The sun was just above the thin, gray-blue clouds along the horizon. Spring was in full bloom; his cherry blossom tree, with its bright pink flowers, caught his eye. Jason walked to his car watching a pair of robins hunting worms in the green grass.
On his way to the base, Jason realized his get-into-the-fight-with-Delta yearning was finally fading away; he was grateful for his promotion, and for more time to enjoy the little things in life, like cherry blossoms.
Jason made his last turn and pulled up to Capcom.
He noticed Commander Ryan walking fast, jumping into his ride with briefcase in hand.
Hmm… must be something important going on: I never saw him look so hurried before, Jason said to himself, as he headed for his office.
*
At The Pentagon, Joint Chief General Stanis was in his office when his phone rang. Rob Tanner was on the line.
“I got some big news to share on the intel,” Tanner said.
“Good work,” Stanis replied. “Bring it to our meeting at The White House. It’s set for five p.m.”
“Will do, sir,” Tanner replied. “By the way, do you have an idea of what this meeting is about?”
“In fact, Commander Ryan gave me a few details,” Stanis replied. “Jameson requested it. But I can’t talk about it over the phone. Sounds to me like another big one.”
“I understand, General. I’ll see you later.”
As the call ended, Tanner thought: It may be a long night.
*
In Iran, Al Kalmani was angry about the death of his top guru: his tech, Altoli. He mistakenly assumed Altoli was killed when the missile base was destroyed.
He had already picked a replacement for his tech, and sent him, with a few hand-picked military units, down to south Yemen, to make preparations at the Persia launch site. If all went well, he could have everything in place for an early surprise.
*
Back at Fort Bragg, Delta had just finished a five-mile run with the new recruits. Tex watched the rookies as they stripped off their heavy packs.
“They’re a ragtag group, but I like them,” Tex said, as he turned to Blair.
“They’re coming along: no more complaining; they seem more focused,” Blair replied.
“Let’s see how they do on the range today,” Tex said, as he grabbed his 6.8 mm XM7 assault rifle.
“It’s the fun part of my day,” Blacknal added. “Nothing like the smell of gunpowder!”
One of the rookies approached Tex. “We were wondering, sir… when we get the chance with the shielding, sir.”
Tex smiled at Blair and turned to the young rookie; “Someday, maybe. But you guys… you got a long way to go.”
Chapter 11
THE GAME PLAN
Back in Washington, President Jameson was in The White House, entering the Cabinet Room. I see we got a full house, he said to himself, as he moved to the head of the long, oak table. Joint Chief General Stanis was sitting next to Special Forces Commander Ryan Thompson and CIA Director Rob Tanner. Across the table, Secretary of State Walter Beck was with Secretary of Defense Tony Hogerbee. Jameson took his seat.
“Okay, gentlemen, what is happening?”
“As you know, Mr. President,” General Stanis said, “both attacks on the Iranian proxies and two of their military installations were successful. We have the intel and three subjects are in custody from the Syrian location.”
“Good. I hear things went well. My congrats to all involved,” Jameson replied, as he looked around the table.
“I got important news on the intel,” Rob Tanner said: “the servers had some good network data; my experts are working on that. A laptop and cell phone are also in our possession; they have some very useful contact information, and the word ‘Persia’ was mentioned several times, along with the words ‘supreme leader’ and ‘big surprise’.”
“Damn! I knew it!” Jameson added. “The sneaky fucks are up to something.”
“It was a rough go with one of the prisoners; my man had to squeeze it out of him,” Tanner continued. “But we now know that Persia is Al Kalmani’s surprise… It’s a nuclear attack on Israel.”
“This is outrageous!” Hogerbee said. “We can never trust these people with nukes.”
“Mr. President, I can have a talk with Iran’s representatives,” Walter Beck said, “express our concerns, put more pressure on them about their nuclear program.”
Jameson calmed himself. “I had a gut feeling about this happening! Outrageous, it is! Thank God we got the intel; good work, Tanner.”
Jameson sipped his coffee. “Tell me everything. We need a game plan for our response.” He turned abruptly to Secretary Beck; “No thanks on the contact, by the way: they must not know that we know; not a word to the Iranians at all.”
General Stanis stood up and moved in front of a large map of the Middle East. “We have new satellite imagery, here in this area of southern Yemen,” he pointed. “After endless hours of searching, we have an approximate location of a new launch site under construction; it’s located about ten miles north of the port city of Aden. We gave orders to send out some drones; they should be scanning the area as I speak for the exact location, Mr. President; I expect to have the details in hand shortly.”
“Good. Let’s move our naval forces around this area,” President Jameson replied, “but not too close; I don’t want to give up our hand – not yet.”
“I’ll get on that, sir,” Hogerbee replied.
“It’s a mobile launcher,” Tanner added, “and a new ballistic missile to go with it. Kalmani paid millions for it, to our friends in Russia.”
Jameson was angry. He got out of his seat and paced around, thinking. “I just had a talk with the Russian president – and the greedy bastard had already done it!”
“They are waiting on the warhead,” Tanner added.
“I say we take out their nukes now.” Jameson pointed and looked around the table; “You all don’t know how much I want to walk through that door and erase Iran from the map.” For a moment, the room was silent.
“What evidence do we have on this?” Walter Beck asked. “Do we have video, pictures or what?”
“We have Elmani Atoli, the top Iranian tech, in custody,” Tanner added. “We have his confession on tape.”
“If we could get a picture of the missile or the warhead…” Secretary Hogerbee added. “Maybe a deep operative is needed here.”
“Good idea,” Jameson replied, and turned to CIA Director Tanner; “see what you can do.”
“A lot of innocent lives would be lost if we blast their nukes,” Secretary Beck added. “We must be careful, Mr. President.”
Commander Ryan had an idea. “Why not wait for them to ship the missile and the warhead?” he said. “I can send in Delta, fully shielded, and wait for them at the launch location.”
“I like that, Mr. President,” General Stanis added. “It may be possible to track the shipment and, with Delta on location… we catch them with their hands in the cookie jar.”
President Jameson sipped his coffee. “Then we will have all the proof we need for our attack on Iran’s nuclear facility in Natanz.”
Jameson looked around the table. “The gloves are off, gentlemen. We hit them long and hard this time.”
Discussions went around the table, and Jameson got some good news: the recent economic report showed marked improvement all across the board. America’s oil reserves were full, and profits, gas production and oil production were all at an all-time high.
More coffee and dinner were brought in. It would be a long night.
*
A few days later, Commander Ryan arrived at Fort Bragg, and was waiting in his office when Jason arrived.
“Hello, sir. How was your trip?” he asked.
“Good, but busy,” Ryan replied. “Take a seat. I got some news for you and Delta: we got another one coming. This one will be in the Middle East.”
“Been a while since my last visit there,” Jason replied. “I’ll give the team a heads-up.”
“Good. Get things ready,” Ryan replied. “I will have the details – the when and where – once the plans are set.
“Oh, and let Delta Team know we have a meeting later today, with the Devcom scientists.” Ryan smiled. “You have to see it to believe it.”
“What are the geeks up to now?” Jason asked. “Come on, boss, give me the news.”
Ryan smiled. “You’ll hear it soon enough. See you at fourteen-hundred hours.”
*
In the Arabian Sea, the destroyer USS Zumwalt received new orders. On board, the captain issued a course change. The XO went up on the bridge and had the crew punch in the new destination.
The mighty ship broke into a wide turn and headed toward the Yemen coast and the Gulf of Aden. Once in position, the destroyer was to release its surveillance drones, to scan for Persia along the southwestern coast of Yemen.
Out in space, a series of Landsat satellites had gradually moved into position, and began scanning the southern coast of Yemen. The hunt was on to find more details about Al Kalmani’s Persia launch site.
*
Back at Fort Bragg, the meeting was underway, the room full of chatter, as Delta received the exciting news about the evolution of Magnanotron.
“You guys must know I like Star Trek,” Blacknal said, smiling. “First it shields up Scotty, and now we got the Romulan… cloaking… thing.”
“It’s incredible,” Jason added. “But, after Magnanotron, anything is possible.”
Everyone had a laugh or two and things settled down. Commander Ryan stood before the group.
“Time to get serious, my friends. It looks like Delta has another big one: the Iranians and their proxies in Yemen.” Ryan paused for a moment, as he looked at the familiar faces. “The president is very concerned. We are talking about stopping a possible nuclear missile strike against Israel, and our forces in-country, as well.”
“Do we have a location and timeframe for the mission, sir?” Tex asked.
Ryan smiled. “I will leave Jason to fill you in on the details. It falls on Special Forces again. I am confident that Delta will get it done. Please remember, your country is behind you.”
Ryan walked around shaking hands, then left. For a few minutes the briefing room was quiet, everyone letting Ryan’s words sink in.
Darious Patel broke the silence: “Okay, who wants to be our dummy today?”
Tex stood up. “I got the seniority and rank, but I say Blacknal gets it: he’s a dummy and he’s so jacked up.”
“Good choice,” Blacknal said, with a smile. “Let’s get it on.”
Everyone took a seat as the scientists moved Thomas Blacknal under the cameras. They attached the Magnanotron and gave him some instructions on how to sequence the cloaking. Everyone watched as Blacknal energized, the blue arcs of light rotating around his body.
Then Androvski gave him the go, and Blacknal was gone from sight.
“Thomas, what happened to you?” Patel asked.
“Nothin’ much, boss,” Blacknal replied, “but I can see by your faces that I must be cloaked.”
The room erupted in chatter, as the group heard but could not see their friend, who was standing less than twenty feet away from them.
“Okay, Thomas, let’s push the button again,” Androvski added.
Blacknal reappeared, right where he was standing. “What you all looking at? I’m fine,” he said, smiling.
It took a while for things to quiet down, as excitement and wonder filled the air.
“One key thing to remember,” Androvski added: “when you’re cloaked there is no shielding; it’s one or the other.”
The meeting went on as Delta learned more about the Magnanotron evolution. Jason decided to put off the mission briefing for another few days. He hoped they would have a firm timeframe and more details on the terrorist launch site by then.
*
Out at sea, USS Zumwalt reached its destination. The destroyer was in the middle of the Gulf of Aden, about twenty miles south of the Yemen coast. The sun was up, the sea was calm and the morning fog was lifting.
The captain was on the bridge, and issued the order to release the drones. Six MQ-9 Reaper drones took off and headed for the Yemen coast.
In Yemen, a Hezbollah radar-and-attack base along the coast had tracked the approach of the Zumwalt. The order was given and a salvo of Asaf attack missiles streaked up into the blue skies, heading for the destroyer.
On board the Zumwalt, a system operator picked up the attack. “We got incoming! Incoming from the north!”
“Engage shielding!” the captain ordered.
The alarms started blaring as the ship’s crew and systems went to full alert. The ship’s THAAD defense system locked onto the incoming, and a salvo of defensive missiles blasted off the ship.
“Full shielding up!” the captain said again to his crew.
The technicians checked the Magnanotron sequence, special high-voltage transformers released a burst of power, then the blue arcs of Magnanotron were flashing around the hull of the mighty ship.
All eyes were on the radar screens. Rocket on rocket, the pack of terrorist missiles went down – all but two, which were closing fast.
“Brace for impact!” The XO said, as the ship’s defense systems opened fire. The Asaf missiles kept coming and closed in.
Suddenly, there were bright flashes of light as the incoming Asaf missiles collided with Magnanotron, the explosions vibrating the bridge.
“Sir, we have calculated the launch trajectory,” one of the techs said. “The firing solution is complete for target lock.”
“Launch now, before they send another wave!” the captain replied, and the crew scrambled to action.
On deck, three Tomahawk cruise missiles lifted off and streaked out into the blue skies, each carrying a high-yield explosive warhead.
At the Hezbollah attack base, the terrorists were jumping around, celebrating, as their radar showed direct hits on the Zumwalt.
“Wait, sir, I detect something!” the radar tech said, as he went back to the screen.
But, before anyone could react, the Tomahawks found their mark; the base and all the terrorists within their powerful blast radius were no more.
On board the Zumwalt, the crew was in good spirits. One of the drones reported a huge, fiery smoke column at the impact area. The captain smiled.
The shielding held! I need to report that to the admiral, he thought to himself, as he went below deck.
As a precaution, the shielding would stay on. The XO ordered the ship to relocate five nautical miles further west.
Chapter 12
PLANS AND SCHEMES
In Maryland, Androvski and Patel were in the Devcom lab, feverishly working on getting six new Magnanotron units completed. The order came in from the top: Delta needed them ASAP. So far, they had completed and tested three dual-capability devices. Androvski suspected that a moisture problem had caused the original fault, and a new, improved, watertight casing was designed for all future Magnanotron units.
*
In Fayetteville, Jason arrived home with two large Sorrentino pizzas, and was the hero again. His kids loved it. The brick-oven-baked pizza, with a slightly crunchy crust and tasty sauce, was a favorite.
Emma smiled. “How’s my soldier-boy doing?” she said, as she grabbed the boxes from Jason.
“I’m good, dear,” Jason replied, “but damn hungry; been smelling those pies all the way home.”
Lori came on the scene. She was having a pajama sleepover with her girlfriends. “The pepperoni is for us,” she said, as she gave her dad a hug.
“Hey, I like pepperoni, too,” little Robby added.
“Let’s sit at the table,” Emma said. “There’s plenty of pie,” she said, as she handed Robby a slice of the pepperoni.
Jason watched Lori, in her pink pajamas; she was looking more and more like her mother. He smiled watching his daughter as, full of excitement, pizza box in hand, she headed upstairs. She’s growing up fast, he said to himself, as he took his seat at the kitchen table.
*
In Washington, Joint Chief General Stanis was in his office when his assistant handed him a large envelope. “Just came in, sir,” he said. “Top priority.”
Stanis was hoping it was good news, and he was right, as he opened the large envelope and looked at the satellite images of the suspected launch site. The base was located in the suspected area.
The envelope contained pictures of two large, camouflaged coverings and a radar array. Stanis looked and saw a partially-covered, large, mobile rocket launcher. There was also a large cargo truck and two jeeps parked nearby, as well as a series of tents, a large fuel or water tank, some fencing, and sandbags placed around the perimeter.
Son of a bitch, General Stanis said to himself, we found you.
*
President Jameson got the news and called for a meeting. Joint Chief General Stanis, Commander Ryan and Secretary of Defense Hogerbee were all present in the meeting room.
Stanis handed out some printouts of the Persia discovery. “Mr. President,” General Stanis said, “the Houthi initiated a massive launch on one of our destroyers: the destroyer Zumwalt. A few of their missiles got through, but Magnanotron saved the day. We hit their launch site good and hard – took it out.”
“The nerve of these maniacs,” Jameson said. “This has to stop!”
Stanis pointed at the display: “Sir, we have found what we believe is the Persia launch site.
“Good work,” Jameson said and looked through the photos. “Let’s keep a close eye on it for now. I want all our forces in the area placed on alert until further notice.”
“Intel reports they have picked up increased activity at the Iranian nuclear facility,” Commander Ryan added. “Looks like they’re getting ready, sir.”
“My god, how did it come to this?” Jameson said, as he looked around the table. “The time for action is upon us.”
“Yes, sir, it is getting scary,” Hogerbee added. “I have two questions, Mr. President: one is, how are we going to take out their nukes; the other is, what happens if somehow they launch? Can we stop it?”
President Jameson turned to his general. “That’s a good question. Your thoughts on it, Chief?”
General Stanis hesitated, deep in thought. “I believe a precision strike with our B-2 bombers will take out the nuclear facility in Iran, with minimum loss of life. As for an inbound missile, that would depend on a lot of variables, sir, but we have a new, updated version of the SM-3, that can hit and destroy at supersonic speeds. The aircraft carrier, the Gerald Ford, is in the area; it has the new system in place.”
“Alright, gentlemen,” President Jameson replied, “my gut tells me we need to get it all ready.” He turned to Commander Ryan; “We’re going to need Delta in-country soon, and at the launch location.”
“Agreed, sir. We will be ready for it,” Ryan replied. “I’ll hand it over to my old friend, Fort Bragg commander General Jason Patrick.”
“Good. Do it,” Jameson replied. “Delta is the best of the best. They pulled through on the Russia thing for us.”
“Mr. President,” General Stanis added, “to avoid an Iranian counterattack, I advise we take out their radar and known military installations.”
“Agreed,” Jameson replied; “they attempt to launch a nuke, a crippling blow is at hand.”
The meeting went on as discussion went around the table. Everyone left with calls to make, and plans they needed to get underway.
*
In Tehran, Supreme Leader Al Kalmani got the bad news about the failed rocket attack on the Zumwalt and was furious.
“Again we lose another base! More men and equipment,” he said, as he paced back and forth, knowing his endless supply of oil profits was dwindling.
“I understand, Your Excellency, but I have some promising news for you on Persia,” Defense Minister Moham Easka replied.
“Ah, yes?” Kalmani asked. “Please, tell me.”
“The lead tech at Natanz,” Easka replied, “he reports another week or so, and the warheads will be ready to install in our rockets.”
“At last, Persia will strike the blow in the name of Allah,” Kalmani said, his eyes gleaming with hate. “We will hit them all along our fronts, attack them all at the same time, with everything we’ve got!”
The two leaders discussed their hideous plan and their coming trip to the Natanz Nuclear Facility. Then Kalmani wanted his picture taken with his rocket-bombs: his gift to the world.
*
The next morning, at Fort Bragg, Jason had just finished a long call with Commander Ryan. He grabbed his coffee and a bunch of files, and headed to the meeting room.
Delta was waiting, and stood at attention as Jason entered. “Morning, sir,” Tex said, as Delta saluted their commander.
“At ease, and yes… good morning,” Jason said, as he looked around the table. “Looks like we are go for another insertion,” he said, as he passed around some paperwork.
Peter Androvski and Darious Patel entered the meeting, Androvski wearing a backpack loaded with the new Magnanotron Evolution units.
“Sorry we’re a little late, sir,” Androvski said. “Darious and I… we got the goodies for you.”
“Just in time. Good to see you,” Jason replied.
Darious Patel got busy handing the new Magnanotron Evolution units over to Jason. “We will need the old ones back for conversion,” Patel said.
“No problem; we’ll work with you on that,” Jason replied, as he passed the new gear around.
“Now we can disappear!” Tex said, with a smile. “You guys are too much!”
“Imagine being cloaked,” Blair said, “back home, riding my Harley! The looks on the faces as I ride up Main Street.”
“God help us if these ever fall into the wrong hands,” McDonough added, with a smile; “be some crazy shit going on.”
Laughs and jokes went around the room. It was fun and, as always, helped to ease the tension.
Androvski turned to Jason; “Sir, we need to go through the operation of the Evolution units with Delta.”
“One key difference you need to remember,” Patel added: “when cloaked, the shielding is off; it’s one or the other.”
“We got it,” Tex replied: “it’s one or the other.”
“This comes from the top, gentlemen,” Jason said, as he pointed to a detailed map of Yemen. “Our objective is a Houthi launch site in southern Yemen. Iran is obsessed by the devil. The sneaky fucks are transporting a ballistic missile armed with a nuclear warhead, and we are going to take it from them, at all costs.”
“What the hell? A nuke!” Tex replied. “Who are they targeting with this?” he asked, with a frown.
Chatter filled the room as Jason replied: “As you can see in your paperwork, it’s Israel.”
He continued: “The intel and the subjects we captured in our attack were the key; that was our source. We believe the Iranians don’t know, and have no idea that we have this critical information.”
“We got a timeframe for this one, sir?” McDonough asked, with concern.
“That’s what Intel is working on right now,” Jason replied. “It could be anytime. Commander Ryan wants us to get in-country, set up in place and wait for the special delivery.”
“We sit and watch,” Tex said. “Kill the bastards, get the goods and blow the place to hell.”
“We have done that many times,” Blair added, “but not with nukes involved.”
Jason smiled. “That’s about it, gentlemen. But remember to be careful: we need the missile and warhead intact; the president requests it before he erases Iran’s nuclear plant from the Earth.”
“It’s about time,” Jorge Morales added. “The evil jihadi are possessed by the devil. They can never be trusted to live in peace.”
The chatter and cursing about Iran went around the table.
“Oh, man, I almost forgot,” Jason said, “if something bad happens and God forbid, they do launch, there’s a direct connection on your uplinks to notify command on the aircraft carrier, the Gerald Ford. The Ford is located north, protecting the waters of the Red Sea. They have a new, high-tech missile system capable of taking down the threat.”
The meeting went on, as Delta was filled in on all the details, concerns and precautions, since they were dealing with a possibly armed and ready nuclear ballistic missile. It would be a high-altitude night insertion – nothing new for Delta. There was much discussion about the mapping and terrain in the area.
The new guy, former-marine Robert Calibari, had that anxious feeling again. He was a boots-on-the-ground man, and didn’t like the thought of night jumps.
The meeting ended and Delta headed to their quarters, to begin getting their gear ready. Lights-out would be early; tomorrow would be a long day.
Chapter 13
THE CALL TO ACTION
In Iran, a top US deep-operative was in place, watching the activity at the Natanz Nuclear Facility. The operative was at his vantage point.
He was sitting in his car watching when Kalmani’s entourage arrived, a group of large SUVs were let inside the gate. That has to be the big guy. I need to report this activity right now, he said to himself as he grabbed his uplink.
A few hours later, the same operative watched as Kalmani and his group departed, their cars driving by. The operative followed them from a distance. His orders were to track the location of the terrorist leader at all times.
*
After an hour or so, word got back to Capcom of the activity at Natanz. Jason was in his quarters at the base sleeping, when his phone rang with Commander Ryan on the line.
“Sorry to wake you up Jason, but it’s go-time for Delta. Tell them my prayers are with them.”
“Yes, sir, we got it,” a sleepy Jason replied. “I’ll get the team ready for immediate departure, sir.”
The word came to Delta at four a.m., or 0400 hours. Everyone got up, scrambling around, getting geared up.
“This is it, people,” Tex said. “Get your jump gear ready. We need to get over to the airfield.”
Jason grabbed his keys. Time to get the boots on the ground again, he said to himself, as he headed for his car and made his way across the sprawling base to the airfield.
When he arrived, he could see the transport, a C-17 Globe master aircraft was warming up on the tarmac, the humming of the engines breaking the early-morning quiet.
*
At the Natanz facility, Kalmani was excited, his eyes bulging as he ran his hands along his new rockets. “At last, my Persia is at hand! My surprise is ready.”
He turned to his techs; “We must get things ready for launch. No delays.”
Kalmani watched on, his sick mind full of joy, as the techs slowly and carefully started to load the deadly cargo into two large container trucks.
*
Back at Fort Bragg, the team was about ready to head to the airfield.
Tex looked at the new man, Robert Calibari. “You look worried. Try to relax.”
“I’m trying, boss,” Calibari replied. “Just can’t seem to help it.”
Tex took him aside. “It’s okay to have fear – hell, we all have it. You’ll learn to use it, to make you stronger.”
Calibari managed a smile. “Thanks, sir. I will get there.”
Before long, the team gathered up and jumped in the back of a transport truck for the quick ride to the airfield.
Out on the tarmac, Jason stood watching. He waved off his men as Delta dispersed from formation and went single-file into the waiting transport aircraft. Jason watched the C-17 as it started toward the runway. God bless them, keep them safe, he said to himself, wishing he was with them.
*
On the waters surrounding the Middle East, US naval forces were put on high alert. The captains of the aircraft carriers, the Gerald Ford and the Lincoln, along with the destroyer, Zumwalt, were briefed about the possibility of a nuclear strike being initiated by Iran. An array of strategic targets in Iran, Yemen and Syria would be attacked should the Iranians launch. US military bases and radar installations in the area were also put on high alert.
In Israel, the prime minister received the update from President Jameson, and was very upset that it had come to this. He firmly stated that their military would be on full alert, watching carefully. And, should they detect a ballistic missile heading for their airspace, the Iranians would get a nuke of their own in return. Jameson tried to reason with the prime minister, told him a plan was in place to stop the threat and punish Iran’s military. Finally, the prime minister started to calm down and listen as Jameson reasoned with him.
Before the call ended, the prime minister made a promise: “Mr. President, God forbid, if their nuke gets within two hundred miles of Israel’s borders, I will launch on Tehran without hesitation.”
The call ended with Jameson thinking: I would do the same thing.
The finger was on the trigger for Iran. Everyone was waiting and watching.
*
On board the C-17 transport, Tex pointed to a detailed map of the touchdown area. “We’re going in right about here,” he said. “Once we’re down, it’s the same routine: gather up and move out. It will be night, so we will need our headsets on.”
“How far is it to the launch area?” Morales asked.
“I figure a few miles, at most,” Tex replied. “Once we get there, we find good cover, watch and wait for the shipment to arrive.”
“Yeah, and when that happens we shield up and take them down,” Blacknal added, with a grin.
Tex smiled. “We must eliminate the terrorists and capture the shipment. Remember to check your fire; we’re talking about rocket fuel and a nuclear bomb! Mistakes are not an option on this one.”
“Roger on that, sir,” Calibari replied. “I can’t wait to get this night jump behind me… get my feet on the ground.”
Blair and McDonough started teasing Calibari about his night-drop phobia, until Tex reminded them that he was also a little spooked when he started high jumps at night.
The laughing and joking over, everyone headed to get some rest. Before long, the only sounds were the endless drumming of the jet engines.
*
In Fayetteville, Jason Patrick arrived home late again and found Emma in the kitchen smiling at him. “Your supper is in the microwave.”
“Good. I’m hungry,” Jason replied, as he gave Emma a hug and went to the table.
Emma brought Jason his plate. “So, big boy, are you going to tell me about the mission? I can always tell.”
Jason smiled. “Yes, you can. In fact, it’s underway – and a whole lot is riding on this one. I have to get back to the base in…” he looked at his watch, “six hours.”
Jason looked around. “Where’s the gang? Too quiet around here.”
Emma smiled and looked at her watch. “You know that after seven p.m. it’s good TV time.”
Jason smiled. “Ssh, be quiet; I think I’ll sneak up on them after my dinner.”
Emma smiled and rubbed Jason’s shoulders. “You are so bad! I have something in mind for you later,” she grinned. “It’ll take your mind off Delta for a while.”
Later that night, Jason lay in bed. Emma was out, snoring a little. His uplink was on the night table. He prayed for Delta, thought about his kids and slowly drifted off.
*
The orders came from Centcom, and the US Navy’s 5th Fleet moved into attack positions in the Red Sea, the Persian Gulf and the Arabian Sea. An array of ships, cruisers, destroyers and the aircraft carriers Lincoln and Gerald Ford were at hand.
On board the Gerald Ford, the ship’s captain was with a group of naval aviators. He looked around at the squadron, at their young, determined faces.
“The call has come: time for us to get into the fight.” He pointed; “There’s a threat out there. American lives could be lost, along with a whole lot of good people. We hit them with everything we got!”
“Yes, sir!” the squadron leader said, as he stood at attention. “We are ready for it.”
The captain smiled as he left for the bridge, as excitement and chatter filled the room.
*
Finally, Delta’s long flight was drawing to a close. Tex was dozing when the call came on the com: “Get ready, Delta; we’re closing in on the target area: about fifteen minutes. Prepare for departure,” the pilot said.
Tex looked around. It seemed everyone had nodded off from the long flight. “Okay, people, get your ass up, check your masks and oxygen, get ready for it.”
“Hell, boss… I feel like I just fell asleep,” Blacknal said. He pointed; “McDonough here, he snores like a grizzly bear.” That started the laughing and joking.
Before long, everyone was geared up, quiet and focused on their jump into the night skies. The pilot checked his display: “We’re at twenty-one thousand feet and climbing.”
“Roger on that,” the co-pilot replied, as he started to level off the aircraft.
The “ready” light came on. Delta was up and masked up as they moved into their jump line.
Tex was at the back of the line. He noticed the blank look on Calibari’s face. “It’s a piece of cake. I’ll be right behind you.”
The C-17’s bay doors opened, a rush of frigid-cold air rushing inside.
The green “go” light and buzzer came on, and Blacknal was first off. One by one, Delta was airborne, gliding down through the night skies.
Tex felt the excitement, the exhilaration of free fall, while Calibari was amazed: he was starting to enjoy gliding in like a bird – until he had to engage his chute, and felt the sudden hard pull as it took hold.
One by one, in the cover of night, Delta touched down in the sandy, rock-strewn terrain. Tex slammed and rolled unusually hard, but was relieved to see he was scraped up a little but okay. He gathered himself, unleashed his chute, grabbed his jump-bag and went hunting for his teammates.
He found Calibari up and going through his jump-bag. “Open that later,” Tex said; “we got to gather up.”
Before long, Tex and Calibari found everyone. Tex was relieved to find that they were all good to go.
Delta broke out their weapons and Morales checked their bearings on the uplink. “Looks like the target is to the southwest,” he pointed, “not too far: about two clicks.”
“Okay, we go in single file,” Tex said, as he put on his headset and racked a round into his MK-7. “I’ll take the lead.”
Delta moved out, their weapons at the ready, night-vision headsets on. They started their run, moving fast and low over the sparsely covered, sandy terrain.
*
Back at Fort Bragg, Jason and Commander Ryan were in Capcom, watching the display on the progress of the Delta mission. Jason had just got an update and checked his watch. “We know the jump off into Yemen is done. They should be getting close to the launch area by now.”
“All we can do now is wait,” Ryan replied. “With the shielding and now cloaking in place, it will be mighty hard to stop them.”
“You’re right, sir, but I can’t seem to help the worry,” Jason replied.
“Hell, with all that’s riding on this one, we’re all worried,” Ryan added, with a smile.
Chapter 14
BOOTS ON THE GROUND
Back in southeast Yemen, Delta pushed on and on, at a pace most could not endure. Finally, Tex ordered to hold, took a moment to catch his breath, and checked his uplink.
“We’re getting close. Time to energize and disappear.”
Out on the main roadway, heading south, the deadly inbound shipment was getting closer.
Unknown to Kalmani, his shipment was a day late. The weary crew had stopped at a roadside cantina, got drunk and whored in for the night.
The transport truck and a car full of heavily-armed terrorists behind it, now finally made their last turn and were heading southwest, toward the coast and the launch area.
Less than ten miles away, one by one, Delta brought up their shielding and each man faded from view.
Slowly, they searched.
Luckily, Tex found some good cover: a large outcropping of rock within a hundred yards of the launch base. Tex shut down first. “You all with me?” he asked.
McDonough appeared right next to Tex. “I just followed your footsteps in the sand. It was weird, though.”
The rest of the team came into view… scattered a little bit, but close enough.
Blair looked at Tex. “Strange, man… I could hear us. Next time we should tie a string to each other.”
“It was weird, I know,” Tex replied, as he looked over his team. “Sunrise is not too far off. Let’s take some water, keep low and wait.”
McDonough went to lean his rifle on a large rock and it fell off, onto a few chunks of smaller rock with a loud, clanking noise.
“That’s not good,” Tex said; “we’d better cloak up.”
Tex was right: the base guard up in the watchtower heard the metallic clank clearly. He turned on a searchlight and started scanning in Delta’s direction. Delta cloaked up and stayed down low, watching as the beam of bright light moved around and over them.
“Oh, shit, it looks like somebody heard that,” Tex said, quietly. “Keep down.”
The base guard came down out of the watchtower, his rifle at the ready. He walked over and opened the gate. Tex heard the squeaking noise as the gate opened; could see the guard’s searchlight as he moved toward them. “We got a man heading this way.”
The guard kept moving and scanning with his flashlight. Before long, he was right on top of Delta.
Tex, his blade in hand, waited as the footsteps drew near.
McDonough, too, sensed movement; the guard was walking right toward him. Quietly, McDonough rolled to his right, just in time, but the guard stepped on the toe of his boot as he passed by. Thinking it was just another rock, and all was clear, the guard started to circle back to the gate.
Tex watched as the guard moved away. “Man… that was a close one,” he said, as he put his blade away.
“Sorry about the drop, boss,” McDonough said. “That sucker stepped on my foot and never knew it.”
“Thank God for cloaking,” Tex said, as he grabbed his uplink. “I got to call in, let the boss know we are in position.”
*
Inside Capcom, the buzzing of the uplink broke the silence.
Jason was relieved to hear the news that Delta was in place in Yemen, and waiting. He shared the news with Commander Ryan, and prayed for his men and their success in the unfolding mission.
*
Back in Yemen, the night was changing into day.
Tex, with his cloaking device energized, slowly made his way closer to the launch area. He scanned ahead, looking over the base. He found it was a gated, razor-wire-enclosed compound. A guard was posted behind the main gate and one was up in a small, wooden watchtower. He figured at least another six men or so were inside the camp.
Tex made his way back in the cover and gathered his team. He pulled out his big blade, and scribbled in the dirt as he spoke. “This is how it will go down,” he said: “once we hear the transport coming, I will cloak and go to the gate. When the gate opens for the truck, I will slip inside, wait to take the guard out, open the gate and then pop the one in the watchtower. I give the call, you guys shield up and the attack starts.”
“We got it, boss,” Blacknal said. “But, one question: what do we do if you don’t call?”
Tex looked at his teammates. “No matter what the hell happens, the shipment must be held at all costs. We call in the cavalry if we have to.”
Back on the road, the missile-transport truck slowed and started to turn onto the gravel-packed road leading to the base. With a long hill ahead of them, the driver downshifted and revved the engine to make it up the steep grade.
Jimmy Dudash heard it first. “You hear that? I think something’s coming,” he said.
Tex jumped up; he had heard it, too. “That has to be it. Okay… I’m outta here.” He turned to his team; “Remember, wait for my call.” Tex grabbed his rifle and energized his Magnanotron shield, before he disappeared.
With the sound of the approaching truck getting louder, Tex made his way through the sandy terrain, toward the gate. When he got close to the guard at the gate, he moved slow and easy, thankful his cloaking was good. The big transport came into view and stopped at the base entrance. The gate opened and Tex slipped inside.
Crouching behind the guard, he waited. There was some talking as the heavily-armed terrorists in the car followed the truck around to the rear of the compound.
Tex stood up and pulled out his blade, as the guard was closing the gate. He moved behind the guard, grabbed him in a chokehold and slit his throat in one quick motion. The blood flowing, Tex held the dying man and slowly eased him down to the ground. Tex then pulled off his blood-soaked gloves, brought out his silenced M-18 handgun and calmly walked to the tower.
The terrorist thought he heard something. He looked at Tex as a red dot appeared on his forehead, before his world went black.
Tex grabbed his uplink and Morales answered: “Yes, boss? We good?”
“Roger on that; let’s go,” Tex said as he opened the gate and re-energized to shielding.
“Let’s get the party started,” Blair said, as the team went blue and headed out for the gate.
Rob Calibari felt it again: the unique feeling of fear and excitement that comes with entering battle. Delta swarmed into the compound area and caught the jihadi terrorists by surprise as they were trying to unload the transport.
One of them yelled out: “Look!” He started firing wildly, until McDonough cut him down. The terrorists were yelling, grabbing for and firing their weapons, some of them scrambling for cover as Delta moved in and opened fire.
The blue arcs of Magnanotron light deflected the incoming tracer rounds as Delta moved and fired. On and on they closed in.
Tex caught up to one of the terrorists as he tried to escape, and rammed him into the razor-wire with the force of his Magnanotron shielding. The jihadi was screaming until Tex popped him with his handgun.
Blacknal smiled as he slapped a fresh clip in his rifle. “Ahh, nothin’ like the smell of battle to wake ya up in the morning.”
Before long, the shooting slowed and Tex called for ceasefire; the firefight was over. The team gathered up.
“Morales, you and Blair check and secure the perimeter,” Tex said, as he looked around and grabbed his uplink. “We need to check for weapons and any intel we can find.”
Calibari was walking around the back of the launcher when a lone terrorist came up behind him, his blade drawn, and jumped on his back. Locked in a death struggle, the two went down in the sand. Calibari used his training as he struggled to get control of the knife.
Tex heard the commotion. His handgun out, he moved in but held fire, for fear of hitting his man. Tex moved to assist as Calibari got the blade free and turned it into the jihadi’s gut, pushing hard. Tex was relieved to hear the terrorist’s screams. Calibari rolled away and Tex ended things with his handgun. Calibari sat in the sand, shaken and catching his breath.
“You did good, soldier. You okay?” Tex asked, waiting for a thumbs-up before they headed out.
*
The yellow-orange morning sun was just up over the gray-blue clouds, on the horizon. In the distance, a Houthi terrorist was out on patrol when he heard the multiple shots ring out. He called in and reported that the base was under attack, asking his leader to send reinforcements. He was told to sit tight and wait; help was on the way.
*
Tex and the rest of Delta walked over to the large container truck which was parked off to the side, next to a new mobile launcher. They could see the doors were open as they moved closer. Inside the container was a long, sleek, silver missile, packed on some thick, wooden beams.
“There’s the big baby,” Tex said, as he keyed his uplink. “Capcom, Capcom, Delta here. The package is secure and ready. Copy.”
“We copy that, Delta: package is secure for extraction,” the Capcom operator replied.
“Look at that thing, man!” McDonough said, as he admired the sleek lines of the deadly missile.
“Come look at this, boss; I think we’re going to need it,” Dudash yelled out, as he stood in front of a large fork-lift truck parked under a camo covering. Tex ran over as Dudash jumped into the lift truck.
“I used to drive these things. And the keys are in it,” he said, as he started the engine and slowly backed the lift truck out.
*
Out at sea, on the Gerald Ford, a big H-47 Chinook helicopter, along with a Black Hawk, lifted off the massive carrier deck and headed for Delta and the launch site.
Chapter 15
RETRIBUTION
Back at the launch site, Delta was preparing to lift the missile out of the container. They had the missile strapped up and ready.
McDonough started to ease it out when they heard a loud rumbling noise in the distance. Tex ran from behind the launcher for a look. He scanned in the distance and his heart sank.
“My god! They’re launching another one!”
He watched as the missile gathered speed and streaked out into the skies, leaving a long, white smoke trail behind it.
“They had two of the fuckers!” Blair said. “We’d better send word right now!”
Tex grabbed his uplink and called in to the Gerald Ford: “Delta, Delta here. We have a launch! Repeat: outbound, a missile on the way; a launch heading north!”
“We copy that, Delta: a launch-off,” a radar operator on the bridge replied, “heading north. We just picked it up. Copy.”
The Captain on the Gerald Ford gave the order: his crewmen scrambled to their stations, and three new MX-Arrow 3 missiles launched off the deck and thundered into the horizon.
On the bridge, the technicians picked up their outbound missile, its speed and direction. They tracked the deadly Persia missile, which was moving fast, already over Saudi airspace. At the radar screen, two dots were blinking and drawing closer, as the captain and crew prayed for success.
Tex could sense the disappointment as Delta gathered around, but was determined to get the job done. He looked at his men. “Listen up, all of you. We did our jobs here. I pray they bring it down; that’s all we can do. Capcom didn’t know; who would think there would be two? Besides, we got one of them fuckers sitting here right now, so let’s get our asses back to work.”
“That’s right, boss: we got work to do,” McDonough replied, as he started up the big lift truck.
Unknown at the time, the captured missile was destined to hit the US military’s Al Udeid Air Base, and its attached command and control centers. The airborne missile was heading for one of Israel’s major cities…
*
A whole lot of things happened next, some at the same time…
At The White House, President Jameson got the news, and gave the order for the attack on Iran to commence immediately. He also requested a meeting with his secretaries and military advisors, as soon as possible.
In Israel, the prime minister got the news and was beside himself. Full of anger, he paced around, thinking.
He called his top general, and learned their radar systems were tracking the situation, and would launch on Tehran if the missile made it to an agreed distance.
In the skies of the Middle East, a squadron of B-2 Stealth bombers, escorted by a large group of F-35 and F-22 Raptor fighter jets, were heading to attack their predetermined targets in Iran. Meanwhile, the US destroyer Zumwalt released a barrage of missiles and attack drones. The large-scale American attack was underway.
On the US carriers the Gerald Ford and Lincoln, fighter jets streamed off the massive flight decks.
It was all coming to Kalmani and his terrorist friends in Iran…
On the Gerald Ford, the captain and crew watched the radar screens, emotions running high. It came down to the last few minutes of yes or no, as the supersonic missiles closed the gap.
In Tehran, Al Kalmani was at home in his office, when the call came about the attack on one of his Persia launch sites in Yemen. Full of rage, he picked up his phone and was about to start Iran’s massive counterattack, when a smart-bomb smashed through the roof of his home and exploded… ending his miserable life.
The Persia missile was at the northern tip of Saudi Arabia, and turned slightly west when the first of the Arrow missiles closed in. It missed the mark and exploded behind Persia.
The next two Arrow missiles closed in fast: one exploded in front of Persia and the other on the side of it. The effect of the detonations rammed the Persia hard and sent it off course, wobbling downward.
The damaged Persia missile headed west and eventually impacted on the Red Sea; in an area along the northern coast of Saudi Arabia, about a hundred miles south of Jordan. The 15-kiloton atomic warhead exploded, sending rolling shockwaves miles from the blast zone. Anything within a mile radius was also hit with searing heat and deadly radiation.
People in the surrounding areas were shocked. They looked in horror as the radiation-filled mushroom cloud started reaching up into the sky.
In the skies over Iran, the bombers, cruise missiles and attack aircraft rained destruction all across Iran. The Natanz Nuclear Facility was hit with an array of heavy bombs.
The facility was leveled and covered in deadly radiation, as what was left of the reactors buried in the rubble smoldered away.
Due to the execution of Kalmani and the swift response of US and allied forces, the Iranian counter-offensive never happened. They did release some of their fighter aircraft and defensive missiles, but were no match for the F-35s and F-22 Raptors.
In Israel, the prime minister was flooded with relief. The news of the downed missile came just in the nick of time: he was minutes away from launching on Tehran. He thanked God for his trust in the Americans.
Cheers went around Capcom, as they watched the blips on the display screens disappear. Commander Ryan thanked God his prayers were answered.
Now it’s time to pull Delta out, he said to himself. We got the president the proof he needs.
At The White House, President Jameson had his press secretary issue a live news statement condemning the Iranian nuclear attack. He was busy making calls and talking with other world leaders about the horrible attack…
*
Back at the launch site, Delta had the Persia missile out of the container truck and ready for pickup.
They searched the dead terrorists, and piled up all the weapons and ammo they could find on-site. They put everything in the cargo truck, next to the missile launcher.
Tex came over and looked at Morales. “Okay, Jorge, do your thing.”
Jorge smiled as he went for his C-4 packs. “Time for the fireworks, boss.”
Out by one of the bunkers, the new man, young Rob Calibari, jumped inside one of the terrorists’ small trucks, to drive it over by the launcher. He turned and looked in the back, to the truck bed, at the sight of a dead terrorist, his guts and brains scattered about. Calibari’s stomach turned, as he went to the ground and threw up.
Tex heard it first: a light thumping in the distance. “Our ride is coming. We got incoming for the LZ.”
Before long, the big Chinook and the Black Hawk came swooping down, their rotor wash kicking up waves of blowing sand. Delta stood watching as the naval techs and sailors jumped out.
Tex walked over. “Welcome to the party,” he said, as the rest of Delta came over.
“We wouldn’t have missed it for nothing,” a Navy lieutenant replied, as he shook Tex’s hand. He looked at the missile and the dead terrorists scattered about. The lieutenant smiled. “Musta been some party. Let’s get you guys packed up.”
The navy crew and Delta talked about what happened, then got busy strapping up the missile and getting it ready for extraction.
The lieutenant pulled out his camera. “Centcom wants some photos.” He walked around taking pictures of the base, the dead terrorists, the missile and the mobile launcher.
*
About a quarter-mile away, the terrorist that made the call was gathered with several of his jihadi friends. The group was heavily armed and determined, as they ran toward the launch area.
Once they got close, a lone terrorist with an RPG crawled his way forward, as his friends watched. Slowly, he made his way to a firing position.
*
McDonough was out walking the perimeter when suddenly he heard a swishing sound. The rocket grenade flashed over him, heading for the big Chinook. “Incoming!” McDonough yelled out as he ran toward Delta.
The rocket streamed in, just as everyone started to react to McDonough’s warning. It fell just short of the chopper; next to one of the naval techs, and exploded. The shockwave of the blast rammed into Delta and knocked some of them off their feet. Blair was closest to impact, and felt a stinging pain in his leg as he went down.
Tex was shaken up, but quickly recovered. “Shields up! Shields up!” he said, as he started to turn blue. He heard incoming bullets snapping and popping around him.
The Navy crew stayed behind the truck. They hugged the sand and watched in amazement as Delta went Magnanotron, the incoming rounds flashing off their shields.
Then Delta opened fire on the attackers. Like a well-oiled machine, Delta moved and fired short, accurate bursts.
The firefight continued until what was left of the attackers ran for their lives.
Blair dropped his rifle. He limped over, next to Tex. “Son of a bitch! I think I’m hit. My… my lower leg is killing me,” Blair said as he sat in the sand.
“Morales, bring the med kit!” Tex yelled out.
The Navy crew was okay. They were gathering around, looking at the remains of their fellow soldier – the one who took the brunt of the blast.
“Fucking terrorists,” the Navy lieutenant said as he turned away from the gruesome sight.
Morales helped Tex strip off Blair’s left boot and cut open his bloody pants leg. Blair had some frag wounds on his calf muscle and above his ankle. The blood was flowing as they applied pressure bandages and wrapped it up tight.
“You’re gonna be okay, my friend,” Tex said. “Jorge here is going to give you a shot of happy juice.”
“Good, I need it,” Blair said, as Jorge gave him a poke.
“Ah, that’s a little better,” Blair said, as the powerful med started to take effect.
The Navy lieutenant came to Tex, and the two shook hands. “Thanks, soldier,” the lieutenant said. “That was intense. We… we lost a damn good man today.”
“We’re lucky we didn’t lose more,” Tex replied. “Those nasty fucks! We never saw it coming.”
“Shit happens,” the lieutenant replied. “It was amazing how you guys shielded up and took them down.”
“They caught us by surprise, but they paid the price for it.” Tex added: “Sorry for your loss, my friend.”
The officer pointed at Blair; “How’s he doing?”
“My man is gonna be alright. Got some frag wounds in his lower leg.”
“I say we get our butts the hell out of here!” the lieutenant concluded.
Before long, everyone was back to work. Good to go, the choppers lifted off the launch site and headed for the coast.
Young Rob Calibari was feeling calm for a change as he looked at Blair and realized that he was an important part of something much bigger than himself.
Jorge Morales smiled as he hit the switch on his detonator. “Here we go!”
Out in the distance, bright flashes of light spread across the landscape as a giant fireball blasted and burned through the launch site.
“Scratch one terrorist base,” the Black Hawk pilot said over the com, as he turned north and headed for the Gerald Ford.
Blacknal smiled as he looked at Morales. “Jorge the C-4 man did it again!”
Chapter 16
THE AFTERMATH
In Iran, in the city of Tehran, there was chaos and confusion. Many of the citizens did not understand why they were attacked so severely. The people had no idea how close they came to a nuclear disaster. There was no power, no internet and the cell phone network was out. Towers of black smoke lined the horizon, from burning targets hit by the bombs and rocket attacks. Iran’s power grid, military installations, oil production and storage facilities were blasted and burning away.
Word was spreading of the death of Supreme Leader Al Kalmani, and political leaders were scrambling to see who would gain power.
*
At The White House, a full cabinet meeting was about to begin. President Jameson stood up.
“As you all know, Iran launched a nuclear missile at Israel and, if not for our contingency plan and our high-tech defensive capabilities, untold death and suffering would have fallen on the Israeli people.
“Unfortunately, there were two missiles. The one which we were unaware of launched on us; we have the other missile and its atomic warhead in our possession.” Jameson paused for a moment and looked at the familiar faces, then smiled. “Thanks to everyone involved, it was a great team effort.”
He turned to General Stanis; “I will let the joint chief explain more.”
“Yes, thank you, Mr. President,” General Stanis said. “The unknown missile launched on us and thank God it was intercepted and brought down in the northern Red Sea; the atomic warhead exploded on impact. We calculate the warhead had at least a ten- to fifteen-kiloton yield. Fortunately, the area within the blast radius was at sea, so we expect a minimum loss of life, but we are not certain on that.”
“Good for now, but we need to stay on top of it,” Jameson added. Then he asked: “How are things going in Iran?”
“In Iran, our attack was most successful. The Natanz facility is now a pile of radiated rubble,” Defense Secretary Hogerbee replied. “Iran’s infrastructure, refineries, and most major ground-troop bases and military installations are in ruins.”
“Mr. President, if I might add that the world community is in shock from the recent events,” State Secretary Walter Beck said. “My sources in-country report that, with the death of their fanatic leader Al Kalmani, the leadership is in disarray, with lots of infighting and finger-pointing going on.” Beck looked at his notes and continued: “Iran’s major power grid is down and protestors are running the streets.”
Jameson smiled. “Good news, gentlemen. Iran had it coming to them, for what they tried to do. Do we have an idea about casualties in the blast zone?”
“It seems that the death toll is growing, sir. We will know more in a few days,” Secretary Hogerbee replied.
“Okay, let me know,” President Jameson said. “Right now, our main concern is containing the radiation, the fallout and the long-term effects of it.”
Jameson looked at Stanis. “Let’s send elements of the 5th Fleet to cordon off the impact area, until further notice.”
General Stanis smiled. “I was just going to bring that up, sir. I’ll get on it.”
“Good, let’s do that,” President Jameson replied. “We need to offer aid to those affected by this tragedy. I also want a team of nuclear experts sent out there to get a handle on the radiation thing.”
“I will get the ball rolling, sir,” Secretary of State Walter Beck replied.
“What about the mission in Yemen?” Secretary of Defense Tony Hogerbee asked. “How did that go for us?”
“The mission was a success,” Stanis replied. “Special Forces went in and got the job done. One man on Delta was wounded – not too serious, I’m told – and a Navy tech was killed as the terrorists attempted a counterattack.”
“Sorry to hear we lost a seaman,” President Jameson replied. “I will have to contact his family.”
“With support from the Navy and the brave men of Delta,” Stanis continued, “we have all the evidence we need to support our massive attack on the Iranians.”
“I thank God it turned out as it did,” President Jameson replied, feeling a ton of relief. “Most of you don’t know how close we came. If our intercept failed, there would have been three cities nuked and burning…” he hesitated at the confused faces: “one in Israel, the one captured by Delta and… another one in Iran.” Jameson sipped his water. “I thank God. If we missed that intercept, it was a launch on Tehran; Israel had their finger on the nuclear button, watching and waiting.”
“My god, it could have gotten out of hand in a hurry,” Secretary of State Beck said, then looked at his notes. “As we know, there’s political unrest. A new leader will emerge. I hope it’s someone with common sense.”
Beck looked at Jameson, with a smile. “When you said hit them good and hard, you meant it, sir! Their nuclear facilities are burning, their leader is dead, and a whole bunch of infrastructure and assets have been destroyed. It will take Iran years to recover.”
Hogerbee let out a chuckle. “I like it, and the finger points back to Iran; the pricks did it to themselves.”
Jameson smiled. “That was the intention, gentlemen; we didn’t start this shit, but we sure as hell ended it, did we not?”
The room broke out in laughter and cheer, but before long it was back to business. Refreshments were brought in and the discussion of plans to handle the Iran situation went on.
Later that evening, President Jameson held a live TV presentation at The White House. He stood in front of the podium, large display screens to his left and right, as the cameras started rolling.
“Good evening,” Jameson said, smiling. “I have important news to share. The Iranian regime, led by the fanatic Al Kalmani and his band of thugs, did the unthinkable and launched an atomic missile at Israel… Can you believe they did it?!” Jameson took a sip of water. “In response, one of our carriers launched our defensive missiles and the Iranian threat was brought down and exploded in the northern part of the Red Sea.” Jameson pointed out the area on the display.
“Through our intelligence network, we learned of their plans in southern Yemen, sent in a Special Forces team and were able to stop the launch of another, second missile. With the help of naval assets, we have that missile and the nuclear warhead in our possession.”
The display screen came on, showing the captured ballistic missile, the mobile launcher and the launch site. Another screen came up with satellite imagery, with pictures of the impact zone on the Red Sea, the launch site, and a detailed picture of the missile and atomic warhead on the deck of the carrier Gerald Ford.
President Jameson continued: “We can now confirm that this missile is of Russian design, made in Russia, and I just got word our naval techs have determined it was bound for the American Al Udeid Airbase, in Syria.” Jameson’s voice grew louder; “American lives were at stake in this cowardly attack! I promise there will be consequences for the Russians and their involvement in this unprovoked aggression.” Jameson paused momentarily.
“Plans were in place to cripple Iran if they managed to launch. On my orders, a counterattack hit Iran hard and long. Their nuclear facilities are no more, and nor is the maniac Al Kalmani.”
The presentation ended, and the news networks had more of what they already knew from reports coming in.
The media went wild at the President’s stunning announcement. The New York Times led with the headline: “AMERICAN FORCES STOP IRAN’S NUCLEAR ATTACK.” The Washington Post’s headline read: “ATOMIC WARHEAD LAUNCHED ON RUSSIAN-MADE MISSILE; IRAN TARGETED ISRAEL AND A MAJOR US MILITARY BASE IN SYRIA.” It was not long before the whole world knew what had happened.
*
In Russia, news of the American threat had government officials upset and concerned. A top-level security meeting was about to get underway at the Kremlin, and President Grekov was a bundle of nerves as he made his way to the meeting room.
The missiles were supposed to blow up! Now the Americans have one! he said to himself.
The prime minister, military, state and defense officials were in attendance as Grekov took his seat, thinking: I need to cover my ass.
“Welcome, Mr. President,” the prime minister said. “Everyone is very concerned; the Iran situation has gotten way out of hand. Why is it that the Americans now have one of our ballistic missiles?”
“That, my comrade, is a very good question,” Grekov squirmed. “We need to find out what the hell is going on.”
“The Americans will dissect our ballistic missile technology,” a defense official added, “and use it to their advantage.”
“Our economic deal,” a state official added, “the one we have been working hard on with the Americans, is now off the table. With oil revenues down and the cost of war, our treasury is at an all-time low.”
President Grekov struggled to stay calm and raised his voice; “I understand the consequences! Someone has… stolen these missiles, and we are going to find out who the traitor is!”
The meeting went on; lively discussion went around the table. Grekov knew his officials were determined and would do some digging. As a diversion, Grekov reminded them of his discussion with President Jameson about Ukraine.
“We need to negotiate our way out of Ukraine,” Grekov said. “It will cut expenses and go a long way in helping us get the American deal we so badly need.”
Lively discussion continued, with most agreeing to Grekov’s plan.
Before leaving, Grekov thought to himself: My friend, the defense contractor, is my way out of the missile mess. I see a serious accident in his future…
*
Back on the Gerald Ford, the logistics of getting Delta and the evidence back home were being worked out. The captain of the ship had watched the weary group as they came aboard, and gave them a warm welcome. Blair was in sickbay, after Medical took care of his wounds. After talking with the crew, Delta went to their quarters.
Later in the day, cleaned up and rested, Delta met with the captain again, and he handed them a pack of his private brew and broke out some of his fine, rum-flavored cigars. The only thing he wanted in exchange was a chance for his crew to see Delta shielded up. That would be good for morale, he said to himself.
Since the sailors were mourning the loss of their seaman, out of respect Delta found a quiet place up on deck to gather, with a cold pack of beer.
McDonough took a pull on his cigar and looked out to sea. “Cold beer and a good smoke… I need it after that rocket grenade went over my head.”
“Roger on that,” Dudash replied.
Tex smiled. “Hell, we all deserve it after that go-round. My ears are still ringing from that friggin’ RPG.”
He looked at Calibari. “You did okay. How was it for you?”
“I think I’m over the jump thing…” Calibari replied, “and when the shooting started, it was just me and my rifle. I focused on my training and an urge to stay alive.”
“Good to hear you’re learning,” Tex said. “And now, with the new Magnanotron, it keeps getting better.”
“That Navy tech never had a chance,” Jorge Morales added. “I almost threw up.”
“It could have been one of us,” Tex replied. “Think about it. That nuke was going to kill a lot of people; we should be proud to have taken it from the evil ones.”
Blacknal raised his beer and the team made a toast to Magnanotron: “One of the best tools in the box.”
“I can’t wait to see the captain’s face when we shield up and disappear on him,” Jorge Morales said, with a smile.
“I hear you on that, Jorge,” Kevin McDonough replied; “the captain and crew will get a kick out of it, for sure.”
The laughing and joking about who looked better in blue continued. Delta enjoyed the peace, the beer and the sea air. It was decided that later on they would visit Blair, and bring him the last of the tasty brew.
Chapter 17
COMES AROUND
Back in Fayetteville, the day was changing over to night as Jason Patrick pulled up his driveway, for the first time since Delta called for extraction. He opened the front door to the smell of some good cooking.
“Dad’s home!” little Robby yelled out, as he ran from the TV and hugged his father.
Jason picked up his son. “How’s my little knucklehead doing?” he said, laughing as they headed for the kitchen.
“Ah-ha, Army man is home!” Emma said, smiling. “Just in time for supper.”
Jason put Robby in his chair and sat next to a smiling Lori.
“Hi, Daddy. I’m busy.”
“What’s that you’re doing?” Jason asked.
“It’s the new math. I hate it,” Lori replied, with a frown. “But Mom has been a big help; I think I got it now.”
Jason smiled. “I’ll tell you a little secret, honey: the more you do your math, the easier it gets.”
“So… I heard the news on TV,” Emma said, as she put her hands on Jason’s shoulders. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good… It was a nail-biter for sure, but it turned out as good as it was going to get, considering what happened,” Jason replied.
“We’ll talk about it later,” Emma added as she brought dinner to the table.
“As always, it’s good to be back with you guys again,” Jason added with a smile, feeling the warmth and comfort of being at home.
*
The following day, it was late afternoon as the C-17 long-range transport with Delta aboard touched down at Fort Bragg.
Jason got word of Delta’s arrival and was waiting at Capcom for them to come for their debriefing. He was proud of the team and had some good news to share with them.
Delta slowly departed the transport. Blair had his leg bandaged up and was using a crutch. Delta packed their gear and helped Blair get aboard a large Humvee, for their ride out of the sprawling airfield area. “Commander wants you guys at Capcom. Hear he’s in a good mood lately,” the driver said, smiling.
“Good man, ‘cos I’m goin’ to ask him for a big raise,” Blacknal replied, with a smile.
“No way buddy – I’m wounded; I get it all,” Blair added.
“It’s a debriefing,” Tex added. “Besides, my friends; the lead man gets the big raise.”
The joking and bragging about the big raise continued until the driver stopped in front of the Special Forces Command and Communication Headquarters: Capcom.
Jason smiled as Delta Team walked in. “Welcome back, soldiers.” He looked at Blair; “I see you’re feeling a little better.”
“Yes sir. They stitched it and packed it up tight,” Blair replied. “Just gotta finish up with the meds. Our shields were off. Lucky, I guess. If that RPG fell a few feet closer… it coulda took me out.”
“Thank God it worked out,” Jason replied. “Everyone is damn proud of Delta.” he continued, as he looked at the familiar faces; “we did it again. Congrats to all! I just found out that, had they launched the captured missile, it would have killed a whole lot of Americans.”
“I thought Israel was the target,” Tex replied.
“So did we all,” Jason added, “but that one was set to hit our big base, the Al Udeid, in Syria.”
“Some of my friends are stationed there,” McDonough added.
“Got a call from Commander Ryan,” Jason smiled: “President Jameson wants to thank you all in person.”
“That’s great, sir, but another flight?” Tex replied.
“No flights; he’s coming here to Fort Bragg,” Jason replied.
“Well, well! I guess we might get that big raise, after all,” Thomas Blacknal added, with a smile.
Jason gave Blacknal a hard look, then busted out laughing. Before long, it went around the room.
With jokes aside, Delta gave their commander a full account of every detail of the Persia mission.
*
In Iran, the chaos and destruction of the American attack had officials scrambling to get repairs underway. There were groups of demonstrators running around, screaming for change. Violent clashes and gunfire were ongoing, as loyal jihadist terrorists struggled to put a stop to the protests.
A meeting was held with Iran’s 88 elected members; the Assembly of Experts were all present. The religious scholars had elected a new, less radical supreme leader and now there was much work to do, with their economy struggling and the disaster at hand. With Iran’s oil facilities in ruin and the massive funds needed to get things back to normal; the funding for all proxies and their activities was brought to an end. The new supreme leader was thinking of future negotiations and a deal with America would be helpful in their recovery.
It wasn’t long before Iran’s Assembly of Experts traced the money trail. They found the stolen money that paid Russia for the missiles; it led to Kalmani and his Defense Minister Moham Easka. The new Supreme Leader gave the order to seize the millions they desperately needed in the offshore accounts. Defense Minister Easka was arrested, locked up and interrogated. Eventually, he would be stripped of all assets, taken out into the remote desert and burned at the stake for his treason.
*
Back at Fort Bragg, Delta was in quarters, getting ready for the president’s arrival.
Tex had his hair and beard trimmed short and neat, as he stood in his full-dress uniform and looked over his team. “You guys look a little better when you’re cleaned up,” he smiled and looked at Blacknal; “even you, Tommy.”
“I have to say boss,” Blacknal replied, “with that face cleaned up, you aren’t that bad, either.”
The friendly banter started, as Delta left quarters and made their way over to Capcom.
Tex noticed a line of dressed-out troops stood in line at the entrance, and the press was set up outside, all no doubt waiting for the president’s arrival.
Delta entered the large meeting area and were greeted by Jason and Commander Ryan as they made their way to their front seats. In attendance were high-ranking officers from the Navy, Airforce and Army, along with a large number of Special Forces troops. CIA Director Rob Tanner was also among them.
Emma was present; she had left the kids with Mom and was sitting in the crowd. When she saw Jason and Delta, she felt proud of them and how grand they looked in their full-dress uniforms.
“Welcome. It’s good to see you all,” Commander Ryan said, with a smile, as he looked at Jason. “Please, come have a seat.”
Handshakes went around as everyone took their seats. In front, there was a large, wooden podium on a stage, with American flags in the background.
Jason smiled at Tex. “You guys look good. We don’t get to see Delta in full dress too often.”
“Thank you, sir,” Tex replied.
Before he could continue talking, Secret Service agents came pouring in. One of them went to the podium and announced the president’s arrival, as his fellow agents spread about the meeting room. President Jameson entered, followed by Secretary of Defense Tony Hogerbee and Joint Chief General Stanis. More Secret Service and a camera crew followed behind. Then the music came on: “Hail to the Chief”. Everyone stood up and applauded the arrival of their president, the commander-in-chief. President Jameson smiled and waved, as he walked up the center aisle and made his way to the podium. There, he stood in the spotlight, smiling and looked around the room.
“I made the trip here for a good reason: to give my heartfelt thanks to the men and women in this room. With your help, American lives were saved and the enemy has been soundly defeated!”
Applause went around as the president continued, in fine form: “Never before have we faced an actual nuclear attack. If not for our intelligence on Iran, and our effective military response, untold death and destruction would have occurred in Syria and Israel. A large part of the world would have been in total chaos.”
The room grew quiet, as Jameson paused for a moment and looked at his notes. “Thanks to Iran, and with the help of Russia, a part of the Red Sea is now polluted with radiation and uninhabitable; the number of deaths keeps getting higher. We are doing what we can to help out the people of the stricken area.” Secretary of Defense Hogerbee and General Stanis moved next to Jameson.
“On a brighter note,” Jameson said, smiling at Jason, “let’s have our Special Forces Delta Team come on up.”
Applause broke out, as Jason and his team moved up on stage.
“How about these guys?!” Jameson yelled out. He pointed at them; “I tell you what: I wouldn’t want to mess with them!”
Jason relaxed a little as the crowd laughed. Emma just sat there taking it all in, feeling very proud of her man and Delta Team.
“For your bravery and valor,” Jameson said, “for stopping a nuclear launch and preventing the loss of American lives, while risking your own, I award Delta the Presidential Unit Citation and each man the Distinguished Service Cross.”
Jason was flooded with pride and the feeling of accomplishment, as he watched Delta, smiles on their faces, standing tall. More applause filled the room. Tex smiled at Jason. He could feel the excitement in the air as he tried to stay calm.
Hogerbee and General Stanis addressed each man, as they placed the awards. Young Rob Calibari was full of excitement when he looked down and touched the coveted service cross now hanging on his uniform. He felt humbled by the grandness of it all and honored to be part of Delta.
Jameson continued: “There are others in this room, too,” he pointed at the group of top brass: “our intelligence community, our Navy and our Airforce… Without them and their efforts, I would not be standing here right now.” Again, more applause. Jameson smiled. “More awards are coming to you.”
Jameson moved to Delta and grabbed Jason’s hand. “Good work Jason. Ryan and I are proud of your hard work. Very promising it is for you and Special Forces.”
“Thank you, sir.” Jason saluted, trying to stay focused.
Handshakes from the president, General Stanis and Hogerbee went around to each man in Delta.
Then the music started again, and the president and his entourage made their grand exit.
Tomorrow’s news headline would read: “PRESIDENT JAMESON AWARDS HIS TROOPS.”
Emma gave Jason a hug as he was on his way out. It was an exciting moment for the both of them.
An hour or so later things had settled down, as the crowd dwindled.
Jason went out into the fresh air and walked over to visit Delta with some good news. He found Tex sitting outside quarters, having a smoke.
“Hey, boss. Don’t tell me you got another one for us?” Tex said, with a grin.
“I got something, but it’s not another one,” Jason replied with a smile, as the two stepped inside.
“I got some news from Commander Ryan,” Jason said, as Delta gathered around: “seems we all got two weeks’ leave.” Jason smiled. “And… another step up in pay grade to go with it.”
Chatter and cheer filled the room.
“Two weeks! No kiddin’?” Tex added. “I’ll be heading on down to the ranch.”
“Ah, time to be home with my Jessica and the baby,” Morales added.
Everyone was smiling, talking about their plans for vacation and the pay increase. Jason watched, but he was thinking about the president’s words; there was something about the way he had said: “Very promising… for you and Special Forces.”
Jason walked outside after the meeting with his coffee in hand. The base was quiet, as evening was setting in; just some birdsong coming from a clump of oak trees.
And he thought: The call of duty will come again. It always does; just a matter of time.
*
It was a warm, sunny day as Tex Larson left the ever-busy Dallas Fort Worth Airport in his rental. The feeling of being home came over him, as he took in the fresh air and looked out of his open window at the sprawling countryside.
He drove along the open plain, passing fields of corn and farms. Tex made his last turn, heading toward the Larson family ranch, just north of the Denton, Texas area.
Tex had been thinking about two things. One was that, in four years, he would have over twenty-five years of service in the Army. With a nice pension and benefits, he could spend some good years with his horses and his dad on the ranch. The other thought was a tall, attractive brunette named Suzan, a pretty girl he met at the sales stables around a month ago when he was on leave. He remembered the way she moved around the horses, her words, the look in her eyes and her warm smile, when she said: “Call me, soldier. I’d like to see you when you’re in town.”
Over the rolling hills, lined with oaks and cedar elm trees, Tex drove on until he found the familiar wood posts at the entrance, leading to the eight hundred acres of God’s green earth that was the Larson family ranch. The mountain ridge, in all its splendor, was up to the north, as he drove up the hard-packed gravel driveway.
Tex stopped his car by the fence line and took in the view. He noticed some of his horses – a big, black-and-brown bay and two brownish-red sorrels – grazing in the tall grass; their long manes glowing in the sunlight. The big ranch house and barn were setting out in the distance, as he got out of his car and he realized just how much he loved it all.
*
In the weeks after the Iran attack, the United Nations and the world community condemned Iran’s unprovoked, deadly attack. There was a whole lot of finger-pointing and harsh comments made, concerning Russia and their ballistic missiles.
It all came right back to Iran, now isolated and struggling to recover from America’s massive counterattack.
Israeli officials were relieved, for terrorist activity and rocket attacks had ceased.
In America, President Jameson was pleased with the outcome of the Iran ordeal. America was in good standing with the world. A new bill was passed to further strengthen the military, the economy was doing very well and his policies were working for the people.
With Iran out of the oil business for a while, Jameson wisely decided to increase oil production and distribution. The end result would place a hard squeeze on Russia and Iran for their evil intent and greedy lies.
Jameson was good to his word and, with the help of several countries, much-needed aid was brought to the victims of the atomic blast. Scientists and technicians were on-site testing radiation levels. Access to the atomic blast area was restricted; the surrounding area was being closed off, with long rows of fencing being installed. The long-term effects of high levels of radiation in the sea and along the northern coast were yet to be determined.
*
At the Devcom research facility, Scientists Peter Androvski and Darious Patel found out they were to be awarded the Nobel Prize, for their extraordinary accomplishments in the field of nano-technology. A trusted friend of Androvski and fellow scientist was given a look at the coveted papers on the Magnanotron theory, which he declared “A work of remarkable and undeniable brilliance.”
The Magnanotron evolution continued at Devcom, as Androvski and Patel entered once again the ever-expanding realm of nano-technology, and their world of discovery and research. Magnanotron, with its unique dual abilities, was kept as the prized and highly-guarded secret it was. It would continue to be a force to protect. A force for good in, at times, a crazy and violent world.
*
In Russia, the defense contractor involved in the Persia transaction – a retired military officer named Ivan Yelkin – was on the road, on his way to work, when he noticed a vehicle closing in behind him.
Another large SUV came to the side of his car and gradually forced him off the road. KGB agents, their guns drawn, swarmed over Yelkin’s car.
“What is wrong, comrades? Do you know who I am?! President Grekov is a close friend!” Yelkin said, his hands shaking as he showed his credentials.
“Yes, we know who you are. You’re under arrest for treason and crimes against the Motherland,” the lead agent said, with a smirk on his face.
Ivan Yelkin was dragged out of his car, screaming and yelling. He was handcuffed and taken to a remote region in Russia.
Mr. Yelkin was never seen or heard from again.
*
At the Kremlin, President Grekov started covering his ass. He had needed to get the pressure off, so he turned to his scapegoat. Full of lies again, he made a live statement, claiming: “Russian authorities have no involvement in this unspeakable act.” Grekov went on to say: “The missiles were somehow stolen by a corrupt defense contractor and sold to Iran.”
A display screen came on and showed pictures of Ivan Yelkin, his hands bound, his face swollen and bruised.
“This man, Ivan Yelkin, will answer for his treason.” Grekov pointed at the display and continued: “We are investigating his actions, and if there are any other traitors involved in this very serious matter.”
Grekov saved his best diversion for last: “After talking with America’s President Jameson, and discussion and negotiation with Ukraine authorities, it seems we have a solution within our grasp: the end of our war with Ukraine is in sight.”
After the statement, Grekov answered a few questions that he had prearranged with his staff. Then, satisfied and relieved that his back was covered, he went to his office.
Grekov logged onto his computer, and smiled as he checked his offshore account: the money was all there.
*
Back in Fayetteville, Jason and Emma had a long talk. It was decided that Jason’s mom was moving in for good. Jason and his son Robby were at her townhouse, helping to get things packed up for the move.
Mom smiled. “I’m so happy to have my favorite grandson helping. He’s so cute!” She ran her fingers through his long, brown hair.
“Oh, and Jason,” she smiled, “I left most of the stuff in your father’s room to you. There are a lot of good things in there.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Jason replied, feeling happy and relieved that she wouldn’t have to be alone anymore.
Jason was flooded with memories as he went into his father’s room. He looked at the pictures of Dad and his family hanging on the walls. His handmade desk and his old Parker shotgun were sitting in the corner.
Jason picked up the double-barrel, twelve-gauge shotgun, feeling the wood and steel in his hands. He had checked, and was surprised to find that the old Parker was worth a small fortune. His mind flashed back to memories of his father, standing tall with his gun in hand; the hunting trips with his dad, in the fields of corn and hedgerows full of thicket.
Robby’s voice snapped him out of his daydream: “Dad, I need more tape.”
Jason looked at his son, thinking: Someday the Parker will be his.
Then Jason and Robby got busy, sorting and packing the room full of good memories.
Chapter 18
IN CLOSING
In the months that followed, the final peace accords were ready to be signed off, and the long, ugly face of war was coming to an end between Russia and Ukraine. Russian and Ukrainian troops were relieved; the suffering and death were over, as Russian troops started to pull out and head east.
After intense negotiation, Russia gained a few miles of territory on its western border with Ukraine, half of which was claimed a demilitarized zone. It was a sticking point that Russia insisted on, but a small price to pay to put an end to the bloody conflict.
In Iran, things were beginning to settle down. The new supreme leader had the common sense to get out and talk with the people, to realize they needed peace. His struggling country needed time to heal and rebuild. He had a long call with President Jameson, and told him that he was ready to sign the peace accord the Americans and Israelis wanted. Perhaps now the Middle East would at last have the lasting peace and healing it so badly needed. There was hope that the terrorists would let go of their hate, lay down their arms and, at last, live in peace.
In America, news media announced the good news to the people: the final details were in place between Russia and Ukraine, and a date was set to officially end the war. There would be a meeting between top Russian and Ukrainian officials in Ukraine’s capital city, Kyiv, to sign off on the peace accord.
In the end, with the wars over, President Jameson turned his attention to America and the needs of his own people. Perhaps it was the beginning of a new era: one to let the hate and anger go away; one of peace and prosperity for all people, everywhere. The world would be a much better place for it.
Glossary of Terms
CAPCOM: Command and Control Center.
UPLINK: Satellite communication network.
DEVCOM: Army Futures Command.
LZ: Landing zone.
RPG: Rocket-propelled grenade.
NANO: Manipulation of matter at atom level.
ROUNDS: Bullets being fired.
HEADSET: High-tech wearable device with built-in communications and night-vision eyewear.
PERIMETER: Surrounding area.
KILOTON: A term for 1,000 tons or 20,000 lbs.
CLOAKING: Making invisible.
C-4: High explosive.
TRACER ROUNDS: Bullets designed to illuminate and let the shooter trace its trajectory.
RACK: Holding, pulling and chambering a bullet into the barrel of a weapon.
About the Author
From award-winning author Robert J. Saniscalchi, Magnanotron: The Evolution is the latest work, and book four in the Bond of Brothers series of stories. Robert has nine published novels to date, and is proud of the fine, honest reviews and feedback received for his writing. It keeps him writing for more.
Also by Author Robert J. Saniscalchi
1) Magnanotron: A Bond of Brothers Thriller: Book three in the Bond of Brothers tales.
2) Black Water: The China Connection: Book two in the Bond of Brothers tales.
3) Bond of Brothers: Danger Close: Book one in the Bond of Brothers tales.
4) Full Circle: Lucia’s Story: A family drama story of overcoming.
5) Butterfly Lake: An action-packed and drama-filled thriller.
6) Freedom’s Light: This action and adventure story was inspired by the events of September 11, 2001.
7) My Life for Her: An action-packed thriller.
8) Bullets and Bandages: Historical fiction; a war story inspired by true events.
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