“I’ve heard you guys are having more action down here than I’m seeing at the White House, so I hope you don’t mind my visit,” the president said with his world-famous smile.
“If I’d known you were coming, sir, I would have built a Presidential Suite for you,” replied Preston, grinning.
“It would have only taken us a week, Mr. President. General Allen could have given us a little more notice,” added Martie, also smiling at the president and winking at the general. “General, I need to speak to you about our now confirmed incoming visitors as soon as possible.”
“Okay, let’s get the introductions done,” the general replied. “Preston, you know everybody here, could you please introduce the president and his friends to all these fine folk while I have a conversation with your lady here? Preston, Martie, this is Carlos’ uncle, Uncle Philippe, the Colombian Ambassador to the United States, and Carlos’ father, Manuel.” They all shook hands.
“I’ve heard many good things about you, Preston and Martie,” the ambassador said as he greeted them. “Carlos really appreciates your friendship. These are my bodyguards—actually, family— Manuela, Mannie, and Dani.” The bodyguards quickly moved and stood with Carlos.
It was now up to Preston to introduce the president and ambassador to the rest of those in attendance. General Allen, anxious about the president’s safety, took Martie by the arm and led her away to talk.
The introductions were first made to all the civilians, and the president was extremely interested in his introduction to Lee Wang and family. Once the president had met everyone, Preston took him over to meet the troops while Carlos explained to his uncle and father who Lee and his family were. Preston introduced the president to Captains Powers and Watkins, who introduced him to the other pilots. The pilots spoke with their Commander-in-Chief for a few minutes and then Captain Powers introduced him to First Sergeant Perry, who in turn introduced him to each of the troops at attention.
By this time, the general was back and asked all personnel to move into the hangar where it was warm. It was time for a meeting. He asked First Sergeant Perry to attend and for volunteers to find snacks and drinks—it was going to be a long meeting. Joe enlisted some soldiers to follow him and his boys to the trailer and get several tables and chairs out of the back.
“Quite a set-up you have here, Preston,” the president stated, walking down the runway with its owner, a totally free man for the first time since he had become president four years earlier. He was without his bodyguards hounding him every step of the way. The perimeter was now secure, the defenses on the road nearly complete, and he wanted some fresh air while everybody was getting ready for the meeting. Both men spent a few minutes inspecting the old aircraft. Preston walked with the president, as did Oliver and the puppy. “It took a bit of money to get all this together.”
“It did, Mr. President,” he replied. “My father was the co-pilot on the flight that went down over Lockerbie, Scotland, and the settlement money helped fund my airport.”
They quickly went over each aircraft. The two remaining Mustangs were parked next to the hospital tents on the south side of the old barn facing the runway, and the P-38 was next to them. The president was impressed. The FedEx Cargomaster was the last one on that side.
“You are doing FedEx deliveries these days?” the president queried.
“I’m thinking a little forward with this one and those Cessnas we commandeered from the Raleigh/Durham International airport, Mr. President,” Preston explained his idea. “I’m thinking about food distribution to the hungry in the area, and I know that the bases around here have well over five million meal rations in storage that were destined for our troops overseas. Since there is no way we can get them over there, I was hoping to use them to feed as many people on this side as we could.” The president was quiet when the mention of the overseas troops came up. He shook his head and looked down at the ground.
They completed the tour, and the last aircraft was the gunship, in which he had arrived in and was being refueled to take off and fly high for protection while the president was on the ground. The president was unfamiliar with the AC-130, and Preston asked the aircraft’s armaments officer to explain the weaponry pointing out of its left side.
“This is a 20mm Vulcan Cannon, sir—the same fitted to most Air Force aircraft since Vietnam, such as F-15s, F-4s, etc. It’s a Gatling gun that can fire up to 100 rounds a second and normally is used for the destruction of ground troops and small vehicles. We hold 3,000 rounds in Ghost Rider and normally use the cannon for short bursts of 300 to 400 rounds. The Bofors 40mm light anti-aircraft gun is for protection from the air. We carry 240 rounds and this baby saved Ghost Rider a couple times in Vietnam. The last gun, the big one, is the 105mm Howitzer. We carry 100 rounds for her, sir, and she is mainly used for larger ground vehicles like tanks or any buildings we need to flatten. We are currently carrying 60 rounds that can penetrate most armor on tanks and or many naval ships, as well as 40 rounds that are HE, or ‘high explosive.’ If anybody comes sniffing around tonight, we will see them miles away with our original and working infrared and heat scopes. We can see the movement of a mouse at 5,000 feet and she is one of two Air Force C-130s that were heavily modified during Vietnam. She, as well as all of these older C-130s we have flying, can be refueled in the air.”
Preston and the president thanked the man and walked back to the hangar. They entered the side door as the gunship began her whine, and Preston noticed the two armored cars disappearing down the driveway towards the gate. They entered the hangar and found that chairs of all sorts had been placed in rows for the meeting, the most comfortable ones in the front. Preston also noticed that three new rooms had appeared on the southern wall of the hangar with movable partitions, and he could see wooden army beds inside them. He figured there were about a dozen beds per room.
The general was waiting, and Preston was surprised to see Joe and David still in the room. They must have allowed the Air Force personnel to drive their valuable toys out to the ambush zone.
“Mr. President, you are seated next to the ambassador and Mr. Rodriquez. We need to get started,” instructed General Allen. “Preston, your seat is next to Martie, naturally.” Preston noticed that he was also sitting next to the president.
Everybody was in attendance. Next to Martie was Pam Wallace, the extremely pretty flight attendant, and next to her was Grandpa Roebels with Michael next to him. The second row was the ‘complete’ Smart family, Carlos, the three Colombian bodyguards, Sally, Buck, and Barbara. In the third row were Jennifer, David, Joe, and all his sons. The fourth row was the Air Force doctor, his chief nurse, First Sergeant Perry, and the technical sergeants, and the fifth and sixth rows were assorted Air Force personnel who were not currently on duty at the entrance or in the fire tower.
“Good evening, y’all,” the general smiled, using his best southern drawl. “We have two hours before Ghost Rider—the AC-130 gunship—is landing and the president leaves. Hopefully, we will not be attacked during our meeting, but I want Martie and her new friend to come up and tell us what they saw today and what we can expect. Martie, Pam, you have five minutes.” The two women got up and walked to the front of the room.
“This is Pam Wallace,” started Martie. “Pam is a senior flight attendant with Southwest Airlines, and was on a flight that took off from La Guardia four minutes before midnight on New Year’s Eve. Her pilot, Captain Mike Mallory, managed to put his dysfunctional aircraft down in the water around New York with no loss of life. The captain, his crew, and many of his passengers drove south with a very interesting group of vehicles that I got a chance to see today, just north of the North Carolina state line.” Martie continued and gave her report on the Southwest crew and passengers she had met, as well as the convoy of ten vehicles she had seen from the air—mostly old Chevy Suburbans and Ford trucks a couple of miles behind the Southwest convoy on the southbound side of the highway.