"Come on, you goddamn sonsabitches," he said out loud. "Step up to the plate. Come and get it." He again activated his radio. "Stand by."
The low-flying bomber was rapidly approaching the heavily protected dam. The sergeant major knew they were up against terrorist saboteurs when he saw the open bomb bay doors. The grizzled army veteran did not hesitate to give the command to open fire.
Following the machine-gunners, the snipers opened up and the two soldiers with portable surface-to-air missiles aimed and fired at the aircraft. The water in the channel was being pelted as the rounds bracketed the B-25. The sergeant major swore when the missiles, one going low under the right wing, the other corkscrewing high over the left wing, hit the water and disintegrated.
The other shooters were getting hits, but not enough to bring down the airplane. Everyone but the fleeing civilians saw the round object drop from the bomber. It skipped across the smooth water as the B-25 eased UP just enough to clear the dam. Rounds were still hitting the aircraft, but it continued to thunder down the Colorado River.
The stunned sergeant major had his men immediately reload in the event of another sneak attack. He watched as panicked drivers and pedestrians jockeyed to get off the dam.
"What the hell," he said to himself and lit a cigarette. It's way too late to run now.
Scott saw the smoking B-25 distance. It was low, heading south, and then it began a shallow turn to the southeast followed by a heading change to the east.
Jackie and Scott were unprepared for what was about to happen. When the nuclear bomb detonated, it sent a shock wave radiating from the plume of water and mist.
Jackie gripped Scott's lower arm and stared in disbelief. "That was a nuke, no mistaking that."
"Yeah, up close and in your face."
"Oh, my God," Jackie said, as the plane was buffeted by the shock wave. "Those people on the dam…" She trailed off.
"They're not with us anymore."
Appalled, she watched the rising mushroom cloud. "All those innocent people gone — vaporized."
For a moment, Scott was speechless. "Incredibly twisted people-sick."
Jackie was too shocked to respond.
Scott searched for the B-25. "Farkas has four more nukes. We have to nail him and find them."
It was a replay of the Glen Canyon disaster, but the damage to the Hoover Dam wasn't as severe. The center and a portion of the east side of the structure had been shattered, but the dam was still standing. However, hundreds of thousands of gallons were pouring through unchecked. The question was on everyone's mind: How would the dam react when the water from Lake Powell was added to Lake Mead?
Scott strained to see the departing B-25 an<^ caught sight of it low to the ground. "We have to go after Farkas."
"We cant catch him in this plane, dont even see him."
"He's at our eleven-thirty, extremely low and trailing smoke." Scott banked to the left to intercept the bomber at an angle. "See it?"
"Not yet… okay, got him."
Scott glanced at the instruments to make sure the Pratt & Whitney turboprop was producing maximum power. "His right engine is trailing smoke. If it fails we'll have a good chance of catching him, or at least keeping him in sight."
"Let's call center and get some fighters on him," she suggested.
"Go ahead."
Jackie called the controller and tried to coordinate an intercept. With both dams being overrun by airplanes and news helicopters, the controller was busy sorting out traffic. A constant stream of radio calls blocked other transmissions while everyone tried to talk at the same time.
She shook her head. "Looks like we'll have to take a number."
"We'll stay on him," Scott said, as they slowly gained on the B-25.
They remained silent while the distance between the two planes continued to decrease.
"There it goes," she said as they watched clouds of black smoke pour out of the right nacelle. "The engine just cratered."
"Did it ever."
In less than twenty-five seconds, the propeller was feathered and the engine was shut down.
"No more smoke," Scott said as they slowly closed in on the limping bomber. "I want to fall in trail about a thousand yards behind him and come up his six."
"You might want to stay slightly below him. Better chance that no one sees us coming."
"Well give it a try."
They watched for other traffic while the Caravan gained on the bomber. Scott eased the power back as they grew closer.
"They're on to us," Jackie said quietly, watching through the binoculars.
"What?"
She handed him the binoculars. "Someone is eyeballing us from the tail gunners position. You look; I have the airplane."
"You have it." Scott relinquished the flight controls and surveyed the tail of the crippled bomber. "Damn."
"New plan?" she calmly asked.
"Yeah, new plan." He took the controls again, maneuvered the Caravan to the left side of the B-25, anc^ slowly added power. "It looks like someone has put a number of rounds through the wings and fuselage."
"Maybe that's what happened to the engine."
"Who knows? Just glad it slowed him down."
"We have to have some fighters," Jackie said, and again keyed the radio. "Los Angeles Center, Caravan November Three-Two-Three Fox Lima."
The wooden-voiced controller was going nonstop. When he paused for a fraction of a second, she tried again. No reply. He kept stepping on her radio transmissions. "Well, I'll try someone who isn't so busy, see if we can relay our message and position."
"Have at it."
She called Las Vegas Approach Control and explained their situation. Shaken by what had happened at Hoover Dam, the controller promised to send the message immediately.
Jackie placed the binoculars on the floor. "The guy just left the tail gunner's hangout."
A few seconds later, the man reappeared at the waist gunner's opening in the left side of the fuselage.
"Well," Jackie said hesitantly, "let's see if Farkas is at the wheel, what do you think?"
"Why not?" Scott said, as he carefully eased the big Cessna even with the cockpit of the B-25.
Khaliq Farkas turned and looked at the Caravan for a long moment, staring at the cockpit.
"Thats him," Scott announced. "No doubt about it!"
"Let s ease back," Jackie suggested. "We need some maneuvering room in case he tries to ram us."
Scott inched the throttles aft at the same moment the crewman in the bomber opened fire with his AK-47. The high-powered rounds ripped through the Caravans right float and passenger windows, shattering the interior of the cabin.
Chapter 23
Hugging the terrain, Tohir Makkawi carefully advanced the throttles as the silver B-25 southwest of the Muddy Mountains. His potential targets were easy to distinguish with the morning sun at his back. During their briefing before takeoff, Khaliq Farkas had left the final decision to Makkawi. He could choose any of the hotel casinos to crash his bomber into, but Farkas suggested one of the larger complexes in the heart of the famous gambling strip.
From a distance, Makkawi studied the Aladdin, Bellagio, Mandalay Bay, and a few other well-known landmarks. He particularly liked the tempting hotel casino known as Caesar s Palace. Makkawi had heard fascinating stories about Caesar s Palace from Saudi princes who vacationed at the hotel during their frequent visits to the United States. As he gazed at his choice of targets, a smile creased Makkawi s face. The rich and arrogant scions of wealth would have to evaluate new lodging accommodations.
Spying two F-16s flying 1,000 feet above the Las Vegas strip, Makkawi decided to make a wide circle to avoid the fighters.