Then it was time to leave. It was bitterly cold on the plow, and Carlos was half frozen by the time they reached the truck—its lights still on, the engine running, their three large packs were quickly moved to the truck. They got into the warm cab and the driver pressed his foot on the clutch, slipping it into gear and jerking forward, leaving the others to take the snow plow back to the observatory.
It was pretty slow and slippery going back down the hill, but the driver was good and they made it back to base at exactly 3:00 am. Carlos was surprised to see four C-130s parked on the apron, their engines starting up as he arrived. “Lee, you are coming with me? How long will it take to get your wife and daughter packed up?” Carlos asked.
“It won’t take them long to get ready,” Lee replied and ran off to tell them they were leaving.
“Good morning, Carlos,” greeted Pete Allen, walking up to the tired astronomer. “We can sleep enroute. The men found and packed what you asked for. It’s packed in Tom. Sally is back at Andrews resting. We can fly together in Jerry, talk, and catch up on the way.”
“We need to wait for Lee Wang,” Carlos stalled. “It is imperative Lee comes with us, Pete. He and I think that we can find out who is behind this, and he might even be able to deactivate their satellites.”
“That’s worth waiting for,” Pete responded, and it was only five minutes later when Lee and his family returned from a room behind the Officers’ Mess and followed Pete’s instructions to follow him and get aboard Jerry. Carlos and Pete were far too exhausted to even think of flying themselves.
Carlos walked up the ramp into Jerry and got a tired hello from Jennifer who was resting on a foam mattress in the rear. A few familiar faces also looked at the new visitors. Maggie and the kids were there and she seemed to be half asleep next to a man that he assumed was her husband, and who was totally out cold. Carlos had never met him before, but he knew about Will’s phobia of flying and winked at Maggie.
“Hi, Carlos,” she smiled sweetly, sitting on the floor of the aircraft holding her husband’s head in her lap. “Will is under heavy sedation. I told the doctor at Edwards that if he was conscious he would not get on the plane, so the Doc gave him a double dose of whatever it was—a damn hurricane wouldn’t wake him up. I hear you have been busy!”
“Yep,” he replied. “I need some of that sleep medication Will was given, though. I’m very tired. Oh, this is my buddy, Lee Wang, his wife Lin, and their daughter Ling.” The newcomers were quickly acquainted and they all opened side seats next to Jennifer to sit down for take-off.
“You also look done in, Jennifer,” Carlos remarked as he seat belted himself in next to her.
“Lots of hours, Carlos,” she replied.
The pilots weren’t messing around. They taxied to the end of the runway at an alarming speed, completed their final checks on the way, and went straight into their take-off runs as each one reached the end of the runway. These guys were certainly in a hurry.
All four C-130s climbed into the dark, cold sky—dawn still many hours away—and General Allen came back to see everybody.
“Do we have satellite connection, Carlos?” he asked.
“Yes, we have a simple connection. Navistar P will soon be stationery over Utah. For how long, I don’t know. It depends on how good you guys made her, but she’s flying well up there. The re-positioning will still take a couple of days. It’s still dark, but with dawn an hour out over the eastern seaboard, I believe that our U.S. visual on screen is both coastlines plus 300 miles of ocean either side in a day or two. I could have made her go further out, but it would have taken weeks to align her even further, and I didn’t think it was necessary. With any shipping, 300 miles is at least a full 24-hour warning.” Pete looked at Carlos.
“We have a television truck on board Tom, and several of the computers you wanted and a couple of old television sets in storage. Are we going to see the satellite broadcast on them?”
“I believe so,” Carlos replied tiredly. “I also think we can set up a communication feed to the other bases. Lee and I are working on trying to mate the radio feed into the television trucks. Or, I was actually thinking we could use the old simple commercial Hughes Satellite Internet systems around the country to communicate to every base and the White House. It will take a few weeks to get that far, but I need your guys all over the country to go out and find the Hughes two-way satellite systems and we can go from there.”
Carlos then changed the subject, hardly taking a breath. “Two of those other C-130s flying with us look very different than the others.”
“Good eyes, as usual,” replied the general. “This is my secret project for my favorite air base museum at Hill AFB. The first one is one of the original Vietnam-era AC-130 Gunships. I have had people working on her for over a year now at Edwards. She is the same model as Tom and Jerry, but over the years has been made as original as she was back in ‘Nam. I reckon she has cost as much as an F-22, but she still has her added 105mm howitzer, fuel drop tanks and air-refueling intact. We were going to take them off next year. Most importantly, however, she has been refitted with all her original electrical gauges and flight systems. That’s why she can still fly but also still has the latest fire power— the same as the more modern 130 Gunships that are now all grounded permanently.
“Ghost Rider and one other, Easy Girl, have the only 105mm howitzers still flying, as well as the full load of 20mm and 40mm cannons. Ghost Rider actually went down twice in ‘Nam, but was repaired and survived. Her older sister had the call sign ‘First Lady,’ and was put out to pasture years ago in one of our museums. This gal has upgraded engines, and no modern electronics, or she wouldn’t be flying. Her underbelly is thin armor and that 105 mm howitzer makes your teeth rattle when it goes off. Ghost Rider is my real baby, and she is the only one of three old, secret Gunships still flying. I lovingly put her back together and later today she will serve as ‘Air Force One’—a real promotion for this old girl!”
“The president is moving?” Carlos asked.
“He wants to come and visit you guys,” the general continued. “The guy just wants to get out of Dodge and see the world, and I don’t blame him. Now let’s get some sleep. It looks like we all need it. Will Smart will be wide awake later when he realizes that he has flown across country and missed it all. I’m dying to see his face!” He smiled, grabbing a foam mattress from a pile and a few blankets and lay down. He was asleep in seconds, and the rest weren’t far behind him.
*****
Preston was up early, about an hour after everyone got to sleep in Jerry almost 1,300 miles to his west. Oliver and his new pal, Spot the puppy, were by his side. Preston couldn’t sleep and was beginning to worry about the possible incoming attack. They had such sketchy news about everything. It was a clear, but still dark morning. The temperature was 32 degrees and he wanted to walk. The Air Force guys had worked all night on the perimeter fence and it wouldn’t be long before the runway would be receiving visitors.
He had heard over the radio, from Edwards and now Hill, that aircraft were coming his way. He knew that Lady Dandy was airborne out of Salt Lake City, and that C-130s were headed into Salt Lake to refuel. They were all expected around lunch time. A radio operator had answered when Preston called and spoke for the first time to Hill Air Force Base relaying the weird instructions from the general. Pretty interesting instructions, but he felt something exciting was about to happen.