“Yes, very well,” Lee replied.
“Will she be able to show it to me from the air, maybe at night?” The general rephrased his question.
“If the lights of Nanjing are on, then she can point out the building by looking for the bridge across the river.”
“Good. Lee, I‘m sorry to tell you this, but I must take her with me. Carlos needs you here. At least as the military always promises, she will see the world and arrive back safely, I hope, in one week.”
“I will tell her to go and prepare for a long journey,” Lee replied and headed over to the house.
“Mr. President, I think McGuire Air Force Base, or down here at Preston’s airstrip will be your best places to work,” the general advised.
“I would like to stay here,” replied the president, “as long as I’m free to go out on flights and help with logistics. I would like my family brought down as well, if you don’t mind, general.”
“I can get them over to Andrews and then down here on one of the 130s coming south,” replied General Allen. “It might take a day or two.”
“Good luck everybody! Stay in radio contact with no transponder usage unless you want them to see it. I’ll sort out their headquarters and, Preston, I will tell General Billy Johnson that as far as I’m concerned each one of you is a general in the Air Force, same as him, and that he must listen to you and your plans until I get back. Carlos, keep me posted. I’m out of here.” Pete saluted the president, smiled at the team in front of them as they heard incoming aircraft engines, and walked out of the hangar to see where Mrs. Wang was.
Chapter 7
JFK – New York
The snow was done. It finally disappeared off the New England coast and the sun rose at dawn on the sixth day and stayed like that—icy cold but sunny. The sun could not warm the frozen air, which in some very northern places was as low as minus 40, but it did lift the temperature several degrees. Cities were quiet, their streets under several feet of snow. The central United States was the worst hit—some towns nearly buried up to their rain gutters. Most of Canada was a frozen blanket of snow, and the only places where any movement could be seen were along the warmer West Coast. The only movement in the northern United States was ravens, crows and small animals scurrying about without any human interference and digging for any meat that was not yet frozen solid.
New York was a barren land of white, with frozen skyscrapers heavily laden with snow. The streets had banks of snow-blown snow as high as second story windows, in some areas, and there was little or no movement. There was movement at JFK on the morning of the sixth day, however, and there had been for several hours.
Nine hours earlier, and just before midnight on January 5th, four US helicopters had come in low over the icy waters of the Atlantic and in nearly white-out conditions, they carefully touched down on the roof of the nearest terminal building to Runway 31 Left—the longest runway at JFK.
They had unloaded men and gear and taken off immediately, hugging the ground and disappearing out to sea the way they had come in, over Rockaway Community Park, frozen under three feet of snow. They returned three more times, every two hours until a very late dawn slowly breathed light into the dispersing storm clouds, and for the fourth and last time the helicopters dipped down close to the ground and with a strong tail wind dove out to sea to be lost from sight over the dark grey waters of the Atlantic.
By then, the storm was gone and the sun’s rays began to light up the sky. A total of 180 Special Forces soldiers from Andrews, via McGuire had landed on the terminal roof. In total, they had four shoulder-rocket launchers with a dozen rounds for each, four heavy machine guns, cases of grenades, and hundreds of rounds of ammunition, and they now owned the desolate airport terminal. The men had quickly found entry into the terminal via a walkway entrance. The inside of the terminal was as cold as the outside, just without the wind chill, and they took out maps and searched for places to hide.
Their orders were to lay low, expect activity, and monitor it. They had four radios between them, which gave them radio communications into McGuire which now had direct communication by cell phone to General Allen, who was now in Tacoma, Washington.
One group of men planned to have ringside seats for Runway 31 Left, and took up residence in a small stranded commuter jet, parked right next to the runway. They had an excellent view of the surrounding area. With 40 seats, a toilet in the back, the windows drawn, and a couple of small gas heaters warming up the inside, it became a home away from home for 30 of the troops. They locked the aircraft’s doors and made sure that there was no light peeking out from inside, opened the flight attendant areas to access food, checked their own rations, and waited.
A second aircraft, a slightly larger McDonald Douglas M-90 commercial airliner parked at the closest gate overlooking the runway, became home for another 40 troops. With two toilets and a fully readied snack service waiting for passengers who would never arrive, the men closed it down, took watches, heated the interior of the aircraft, locked the doors, and waited.
Another 60 troops got the cold terminal closest to the Van Wyck Expressway—the direction in which the visitors were expected to arrive.
An empty Boeing 777 stood right in the middle of the taxiway. It had been turning out of the terminal to reach the taxiway when its engines and electronics must have shut down. A single ladder was standing by the front door to the aircraft, and when troops walked up it and tried to open the door, the door easily opened. Inside, the aircraft was empty, and looked like the passengers had left in a disciplined exit. All hand luggage was gone and the overhead bins empty and open. The aircraft was in a perfect place to view the surrounding area, especially from the cockpit, had several toilets, lots of snacks and drinks, and the window blinds were already drawn.
The inside warmed up and an interesting “inflight meal” was served.
The last group wasn’t so lucky and took turns nearly freezing to death on the roof of the terminal for an hour at a time, after finding a storage room close to a restaurant and a bar where they could warm up between shifts. They closed down the area so that they wouldn’t be seen if someone walked through the terminal, and radioed in to report that they were in position.
It didn’t take long for the visitors to arrive. The cold in-flight meal was just about over in the Boeing 777 when the lookout in the cockpit stated that he saw several vehicles approaching—a couple of old Suburban’s behind an even older Ford 4x4 truck working hard to get down the Van Wyck Expressway. The truck had to be pushed and manhandled until it finally got down the exit ramp closest to the terminals. The invaders cut a hole in a hedge, then the high security fence, and drove through the holes onto the aircraft area.
“We have visitors,” the radio from the 777 quietly sent the message. “Seven vehicles and about two dozen armed men have gotten out and are waiting for something. They are Chinese or Asian, mean-looking critters, have carbines and a couple of shoulder launchers. I can see three shoulder launchers. Over.”
“Keep them visual,” an order was whispered into the radio from Air Force Major Joe Patterson, the commander of the group in the terminal.
“I see some bulldozers coming into view from the airport warehouse area. There are three I can see at the moment. One is beginning to clear the expressway and the other two are heading out towards the runway clearing the area in front of the men. It looks like they are preparing for aircraft to arrive. It will take the Charlies most of the day and tonight to clear that runway out there,” reported a Lieutenant in the 777.