Manny’s voice came from two rows down. “Over here — I’ve found a good one!”
McGriffin reached the craft. He stepped lightly on the supports and climbed aboard. Sitting in the right-hand seat, he reached for the straps as Manny quickly ran over a checklist.
“Fuel, oil pressure — jeez, I hope this thing holds together.” A moment passed. “Keep your fingers crossed. I’ve never flown one of these alone.”
“What?!”
Manny punched at buttons. “Relax. Every rotorhead has this fantasy.”
“Just a minute.” McGriffin squinted at the helicopter in front of them. A lump sat underneath the fuselage. He unbuckled and scrambled down the side of their craft. He disappeared for a moment, then his head popped back into view. He held up a satchel and peered cautiously inside. “What the — it looks like plastique.”
Manny jumped back in his seat and shivered. “Holy crap! Get rid of it! That’s the last thing we need.”
“Roger that.” McGriffin ran over to the side and gently placed the satchel down.
As McGriffin climbed on board, he said, “It looks like the explosive slipped off the bottom of the helicopter. I bet they planted them and meant to destroy every chopper they didn’t take.”
Manny reached for the radio and clicked the mike. “Tower, this is unscheduled HH-53 requesting permission for VFR takeoff.” Waiting a scant second, he switched through the channels. “No traffic at all.” He flipped a series of switches to the left of the radio and tried the microphone again. “Nope. Even the secure channels are down. At least I tried.
“Ready?” Manny glanced over at McGriffin. Without waiting for McGriffin to answer, he punched at the APU. A shrieking whine built up, winding from low bass to a high shrill. Manny intently watched the dials, counting to himself.
Just as McGriffin thought his head was going to explode from the noise, Manny pushed a succession of buttons and reached down to his right. He muttered to himself: “Number one.” The left engine coughed, then started screaming. “Two.” McGriffin watched Manny count to thirty. The helicopter pilot then said, “Two,” and the other engine came to life. He reached to the top of the cockpit. “Release rotor blades … and advance engine — pull pitch: hold on!”
The HH-53 seemed to leap up into the air, leaving the concrete in a dizzy elevator ride. The ground drew away from them. Dozens of fire fighters turned their heads skyward, their faces reflecting the glow of the smoldering fires.
Manny tilted the craft toward Alpha Base.
As they approached, McGriffin strained to see what was going on. The flashes grew brighter. Smoke and fire covered the ground. “They’re under attack!” He motioned for Manny to see. “That’s the barracks and command post. It looks like a bomb hit them.”
Debris covered Alpha Base. Most of the searchlights were out. Burning buildings belched smoke, adding to the gloom. Overturned jeeps and trucks lay scattered throughout the complex, victims of mortars and bazooka rockets. McGriffin squinted at the bunkers burrowed in the vast crater. Every so often a dark object would sprint in between the storage units.
McGriffin pointed to a bunker near the fence. A long dark vehicle squatted just inside the crater. A gaping hole bore straight through the fence to where the vehicle sat. “Try and get a closer look. Swing around the side of that bunker.”
Manny swung the helicopter around, tipping to the side. As they rounded the bunker, McGriffin spotted someone pointing a rifle up to their chopper.
“Pull back — he’s going to shoot!” McGriffin pushed back in his seat. As Manny jerked the craft up, a jeep came from behind a bunker. The person on the ground swung around and shot point-blank at the vehicle. By the time the person turned back around, Manny had already pulled the helicopter up.
McGriffin drew in a breath. “Let’s get some altitude.”
Manny responded by increasing the rate of climb, pulling the Jolly Green well up into the night sky. An explosion on the ground rocked their craft.
“What was that?”
Manny responded by bringing the craft up faster. Alpha Base receded below them, dwindling in size until they were nearly a mile up. Manny took the craft into a slow circle, keeping Alpha Base in the center.
McGriffin took a quick inventory of their weapons: two pistols and a shotgun. “Do you have any guns on board?”
“We’re rescue choppers, remember? Not special ops. The only thing close are two flare guns in back.”
McGriffin leaned forward and grabbed at the microphone.
Manny looked over to him. “What do you think we should do?”
“Notify someone.”
Manny flipped through the frequencies. Nothing. “Who? With my HF out, what do you want me to do — yell? Who can we contact?”
“I don’t know. Anyone. We’ve got to do something.” McGriffin slouched back in his seat.
McGriffin tapped at the microphone. “Did you try Guard?” He referenced the emergency UHF radio channel.
“Yeah. No one there.”
McGriffin tried for himself. After several minutes of picking up static and garbled transmissions, he slammed the mike against the console. “We must be smack in the center of null. Where’s your MILSATCOM?”
Manny reached to the console and flipped a series of switches. “Try it now.”
McGriffin keyed the radio. “Mayday, mayday. This is Wendover reporting a Broken Arrow. I say again, Wendover reporting a Broken Arrow: nuclear emergency. Can you read?”
A voice came over the radio. “Stand by one, Wendover. We copy and are ready to verify. Please transmit your verification code.”
The radio went silent. McGriffin turned white. Manny frowned at him. “Go ahead. Give it to them.”
McGriffin wet his lips. “I don’t have it.”
“What do you mean you don’t have it? Command post has standard verification codes for secure transmissions — I know, I’ve worked there before. They change weekly. Go ahead and tell them.”
“Please verify Broken Arrow, Wendover.”
“I forgot. Chief Zolley took care of all classified traffic …” His voice trailed off as he realized the weakness of his excuse. McGriffin looked hopefully to Manny. “What about your codes? Can’t we use the codes you fly with?”
“We pick up those codes only when we fly. Besides, they change daily.”
“Wendover, we are breaking off your link on my count: three, two—”
“Wait, wait. This is Major William McGriffin, serial number 341-92-9116FR, commander of the Wendover command post. Alpha Base is under attack from unknown forces. They are breaking into our nuclear weapons storage bunkers.”
“Wendover, we have to have verification. Now—”
“You don’t understand! I am not at my command post. I’m in an HH-53 approximately one mile above Alpha Base. The command post was attacked during an assault on Alpha Base. We have to get some help out here.”
A calmer voice came over the radio, replacing the first person they talked to. “Major McGriffin, you have sixty seconds to convince me that you’re who you say you are. You’d better speed out, mister, because I’ll lose my patience if you’re playing games with me.”
Speed out. He hadn’t heard that term since he was a cadet. Great, just what I need. Some bogie who probably thinks he’s still on Wing staff. He leaned into the mike. “Try raising Wendover — every communications channel on the base is down. Go ahead, try it.”
Thirty-five seconds passed before the voice came back. “All right, so we can’t raise Wendover. We’re checking your background and should have a reply within the hour—”