“Yeah, we did make it. Thanks. Whoo! Yeah, I’m concerned about Wu, but, yeah, we made it. Ahh, a visitor? For me? Who is it?” Ford asked, puzzled who would know him way out here in the Pacific Ocean.
The Burns Family lived on Southdown Road off George Washington Parkway, just north of Mount Vernon, in Alexandria, Virginia. Their two story white colonial was on the Potomac River, and had a stunning view of Maryland to the east. The closeness of such a wealthy community to a large city was attractive to the family, as they were able to absorb the culture of the city, while taking in country-like walks along the Mount Vernon Trail along the river.
The secure work phone started ringing next to Calvin’s bedside stand, and he rolled over quickly to answer it. “Hello?”
“Sir, this is the Watch Officer at the Operations Center. Sorry to wake you, sir.”
Calvin Burns rubbed his eyes, and glanced over at his bedside stand and look at his clock. It read 2:23AM. “Good morning. Yes, go ahead.”
“Sir, message from USS Abraham Lincoln states, and I quote ‘OPERATION WHIRLPOOL complete. Safe on deck. Mark sends’.”
“Okay, thank you. Ah, tell Martin, my driver, I’ll be driving myself in today. I’ll just see him at the office. No need to pick me up today. Okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
Calvin swung the blankets off of him with a purpose and a smile, happy to have achieved yet another team success. He was up, showered, kissed his wife good-bye, and out of the house by 3:00 AM and on the George Washington Parkway northbound soon after. From where he lived to the office, at this time of morning, was not more than 12 minutes.
He parked in his marked spot, and walked over to the entry area to badge in, then quickly up to his empty office. Giddy with suspense, he quickly put on a pot of coffee near Jason’s desk, and scurried back into his office to quickly log on to his computer.
Calvin Burns was astounded at the photos he was seeing from Mark. They were clear, up close, and impressive, and demonstrated how advanced the Devil Dragon really was. He could see the cockpit details, four large engines, rooftop air intakes, vertical fin, flaps, wings, and fuselage skin. The weapons storage section was particularly impressive, and Calvin was curious how many nuclear and conventional weapons could be carried there. “Oh my, look at these photos.” The antennas and cameras, located in the nose, were shocking. Not only that the modern technology existed, but that the U.S. military and intelligence community did not detect any of this sooner.
There was no mention of Ford and Wu in the emails, but he assumed they were in getting looked at by the doctor. He decided to place a call out to the ship via the DIA Operations Center downstairs.
“Good morning, Lieutenant McCarthy, Deputy Calvin Burns here. Please connect with me with the USS Theodore Roosevelt Operations Center. Wait, sorry. The USS Abraham Lincoln, I mean. The Lincoln, the Lincoln. I’ll hold.”
Deputy Burns sat on hold for close to eight minutes while the ship’s OOD located Mark Savona to chat. The OOD had to track down the CO first, over the course of a 1,000 foot long ship, with over 5,000 people, in hundreds and hundreds of rooms and compartments on multiple decks. The OOD finally tracked down the CO, and then Mark, in the hangar deck, just as the deck sailors were getting the fuselage pushed inside. The wings, cut off earlier by the welding team, were already wheeled inside and at the far end of the hangar on carts.
“Sir, this is Mark. Hello!” Mark answered the phone.
“Hi Mark, Calvin Burns here. Just wanted to wish you and the rest of the team congratulations. Ah… how are things going?”
“Terrific, sir. They made it on the ship successfully, ahh… I’m in the hangar deck now. Wings are off, and the fuselage just got in here. A bit of concern about the tail hitting the overhead ceiling beams, but we were able to raise the gear and get her down on some smaller wheels to move her in.” Mark paused. “Sir, this is some jet.”
“I’m sure it is. Understand. I appreciate the photos you sent. Looked at them already. High-end technology. Impressive. On another note, and more importantly, how are our two Captains, Stevens and Lee?”
“Well, sir, Wu is a bit worse than expected. Not only is his cancer bad, but he sustained a gunshot graze from Ford’s pistol.”
“Ford shot him?”
“No, not exactly, sir. From what we know so far, the Chinese co-pilot showed back up at the jet earlier than planned, and Ford was involved in some old-school hand to hand. Ford sustained a knife wound to his left shoulder, but should be fine. During the melee, Ford was separated from his weapon and the co-pilot attempted to shoot Ford. He missed Ford, but shot Wu, by accident. It ended when Ford wound up throwing the co-pilot out the cockpit hatch while they were on the takeoff roll. Unknown co-pilot whereabouts and health status.”
“Whoa. That’s pretty heavy.”
“Hmmm. They also had one of the bullets tear through the left wing fuel tank, so they were leaking fuel the whole flight over. Rather than fly at some of the insane Mach speeds it’s capable of, they had to set a much lower power setting just to get here.”
“Ohh, okay, got it. Was wondering what was up on the timing. Ahh, I’m going to back brief the Secretary later today, if you think that is a good idea. If you get updates, please call it in and let me know.”
“Yes, solid idea. Will do, sir. Oh, two more items. The Herc mission should be complete, with the help of the Bureau… via the Embassy. Special thanks to them for the mission air drop. Should be a great smoke and mirrors ploy. Lastly, thanks for arranging for the special guest. I had no idea. Ford hasn’t seen him yet, so I’m sure he’ll be surprised.”
“Glad I could help. He is a terrific man, and someone I have known nearly my entire career. Thanks, Mark. Please pass my thanks to the ship Captain, as well as the rest of the team. Well done,” the Deputy said, ending the call.
Wu had a morphine intravenous drip in his left arm and was groggy, but conscious enough to talk quietly, even with his oxygen mask on. The bullet that was fired during the scuffle turned out to graze his left leg, which explained why Wu did not have a large hole in his leg, or an exit wound. It bled out pretty good, but the wound was not life threatening. Unfortunately, the cancer was. Wu held Ford’s hand.
The intravenous drip of C17H19NO3 was set up with a machine to deliver 2 milligrams of morphine every 10 minutes. The flight surgeon was full-up on Wu’s cancer situation, and set up a lock out dose that insured only a certain amount of morphine could be delivered over a specific time. It’s different for every patient and their condition, and the doctor knew Wu’s time was short. Morphine is a respiratory depressant, and doctor kept a close watch on Wu’s respiratory condition and his breathing. The oxygen mask forced Wu’s lungs to stay inflated, helped control breathing, and kept the arteries open for increased blood flow. At this point, the flight surgeon was just keeping Wu comfortable, until it was his time.
“Ford,” Wu said slowly and quietly, “No… ventilator. Not even oxygen,” as he struggled to pull the mask off
“Okay, Wu. Yes. No mask.”
“I can’t believe… we… made it. Heck of a flight here.”
“Yeah, Wu. I knew we’d fly together someday. To think we both were able to land that thing on a carrier. You bet we made it.”
The Lincoln infirmary was filling up with a few more folks now, some civilian, but mostly military, and quite a few medical team members wearing green scrubs. Robert, Mark, and Emily stepped closer to Wu’s bed.