He was 30 minutes out of Beijing when he called Colonel Patterson who was on his way to Elmendorf in Alaska. The large group of 747s were currently cruising at 38,000 feet, 1,500 miles west of Shanghai, and would be leaving Chinese air space in just over an hour, heading north of Pakistan and into Turkey. They were on a fast cruise and were five hours away from the Incirlik Air Force Base in Turkey.
General Allen spent the next 20 minutes talking to Patterson and outlining the plan of defense he wanted set up as soon as Colonel Patterson arrived back in New York. The colonel was ordered to take the first C-130 out of McGuire and set up the defense plan in New York Harbor so that men and arms were moving before General Allen got back in an estimated two days. The general wanted to head into Baghdad and Kabul and organize the troop extractions himself. He wanted to find all the Special Forces—Seal Team Six was out there somewhere—and he wanted them in New York ASAP. He wanted every aircraft full to the brim with troops out of Turkey, clearing the base and country of all active American personnel and, in one sweep, fly them into the three New York airports.
They would deposit their cargos and then return straight back to Baghdad on alternate days to do the same until Iraq was totally clear of troops. On the other days, the fleet would fly into Kabul and transfer all U.S. military and civilian personnel out of Afghanistan.
Then General Allen spent ten minutes describing the best way to defend New York Harbor against an air or naval attack. He had detailed such a plan decades earlier when he was a major in the Air Force. The then Major Allen had been given the task of defending New York as a scenario against a possible attack from Cuba around The Bay of Pigs timeframe.
He had just finished explaining his plan to Patterson when the pilot told the general they were five minutes out and the weather was clear and the sun bright but cold.
The landing was normal. The same runway had been cleared and the pilot had actually communicated on the radio with the airport tower ten minutes before they arrived over the vast city.
Chapter 16
The Lull before the Storm
The Chinese radio controller in Beijing stated in bad English that government officials were being driven to the airport and that they would be another half an hour. Before the lonely Ghost Rider landed, General Allen called the other aircraft to check on their progress while his crew got ready. The temperature outside was well below freezing, but the sunlight was nice to see as he looked through the cockpit windows.
Blue Moon, Lazy Girl, and the tanker were three hours out of Omsk and about to enter Mongolia. All the Russian and restored U.S. radio beacons were working well and they were on track. The transporter was well on her way and about to enter Alaskan air space.
Now he had to have this meeting and then get back to what he wanted to do—move the troops back home.
It was nearly 30 minutes before the same three limousines arrived, flags flying. They were escorted by military jeeps in front and behind the cavalcade. The same three men got out, each with an interpreter, and they gathered in a group around the middle vehicle. Pete Allen walked up to them and gave each man a satellite phone. He also gave them the numbers of the phone, explained that the red number on each phone would dial the enemy, and gave them a short list of only five other phone numbers—the U.S. President’s, his, and the three numbers on their way to the Russian government.
The Chinese delegation thanked the general, got into their cars, and much to his relief, drove off in the same way they had come in. Once again, he was left alone at the international airport, which was desolate and empty except for a few newspapers and candy wrappers rolling by in the wind.
Refueling took another ten minutes, and the crew made sure that the tanks were as full as possible, since the next stretch to Omsk was only 50 miles shorter than Ghost Rider’s longest fuel range before she had to switch to reserve tanks, and those only gave her another 45 minutes of flight. It was going to be tight.
He looked around and went for a short walk while the crew got everything stashed away. He realized for the first time that all of the airport terminal slots were actually full of aircraft, whereas at the U.S. airports they had been mostly empty. He looked around a little closer and realized that there were hundreds of aircraft—mostly Chinese airlines at the terminals. From where he stood, he could see well over 70 aircraft and he realized why the 747s in Shanghai had been parked in a line and easily stolen. There were hundreds of aircraft everywhere.
They hadn’t lost hundreds of aircraft in the air. The Chinese aircraft were all on the ground when the lights went out. They must have been warned by Zedong Electronics. Pete suddenly felt like he was in a trap. He immediately walked over to the nearest aircraft—the older 747 with China Airlines on its tail he had entered on his last visit. It was as dead and empty as the last time he’d been in it. He just wanted to make sure, and this time he checked all the electronic switches he could in the cockpit. It would never fly again.
He checked the galleys where the cabin attendants made drinks and food and discovered that the smell wasn’t good. There were meals rotting in the galleys—meals that had been ready for passengers when they boarded. That foxed him. It looked like the aircraft had been grounded just in case there were bad parts on them, which there were, but the aircraft had been made ready for flight once it had been grounded, which meant that somebody was expecting to fly it again once the emergency was over.
That somebody had not told these airlines the complete story, or the Chinese government had been lied to, expecting their aircraft to return to the skies once the emergency was over. The galley was full of miniatures of whiskey—good whiskey—and he opened one, reckoning that he deserved a drink, knocked one down, and helped himself to several more before he went to check the next aircraft.
The second plane, also an older 747, was in the same condition, and he realized that the Chinese government was totally in the dark about what was happening, just like America, and he hadn’t meant it to be a pun. He suddenly felt cold shivers down his spine, knocked back a second whiskey, got out of the aircraft fast, and ran over to Ghost Rider which was ready with her first engine already winding up.
General Allen immediately got on the phone to Carlos, who he woke up, and told him that China had nothing to do with the shutdown of the world, that they were in the same position, and that his second trip here had been to deliver the phones and make sure that it was Zedong Electronics and Zedong Electronics alone that was trying to take over the world.
He continued talking to Carlos throughout take-off, and they climbed into the beautiful dawn sky. He opened his third whiskey, trying to sort out the heaviness in his stomach, gulped it down, and felt its warmth travel through him. He said goodbye to his friend, who was only half awake at McGuire and sat back—the alcohol was starting to take effect.