“Dispatch, Baker 14. Be advised I’ve found a U-Haul parked here at the airport parking lot at Winchester Regional. Probably nothing to it, but I’m going to check it out. What was that license tag again?”
“Baker 14, that’s Florida tag MQR 1428.”
“Dispatch. Baker 14. Roger that. Request backup if you haven’t heard from me in five minutes.”
“Baker 14, I’m going to alert a backup now just in case.”
The deputy wrote down the tag number, then got his pump shotgun out of the backseat.
He stepped out into the dark, shotgun pointed out, and walked toward the U-Haul, which was about twenty feet away.
No signs of life or activity so far.
Approaching the back of the truck, he crouched down and hit the tag with the beam from his flashlight.
Florida tag. MQR 1428. A surge of energy took control of his body. “Dispatch. Baker 14. I have a match on the U-Haul. Repeat. I have a match. Request backup immediately.”
“Copy that. Backup on the way.”
The distant sound of an airplane cranking off in the distance. Then the roar of an engine. He looked over and saw the running lights of an aircraft lifting into the sky.
He shot his flashlight into the U-Haul. Nothing. No one.
He kicked in the back door. Still nothing. No one was in the other truck.
“Dispatch. Dispatch. We’ve got a propeller aircraft, unknown make and model, taking off right now from Winchester Regional. Subject U-Haul is abandoned in the parking lot!”
“Baker 14. Roger that. Wait for backup and secure the U-Haul. We are notifying the military now.”
Beechcraft Bonanza Aircraft
Above Virginia
5:23 p.m.
As his newfound friend, Anwar, sat in the passenger’s seat, praying to Allah, Salaam held onto the plane’s yoke. He set their course at one-hundred-one degrees, just south of a due easterly direction, and quickly glanced at navigational charts. He started plotting a low-flying course directly to Washington that would keep them from flying over densely populated areas until the last minute.
Following the general trajectory of the Middleburg Pike, also known as US Highway 50, they would pass over the rural horse country of Loudoun County, flying near the small towns of Paris, Upperville, Middleburg, and Aldie, before heading into the densely populated fringes of Fairfax County near Chantilly.
He looked up. A red blinking radio tower was quickly approaching! He jerked the yoke to the left. The Bonanza responded, barely missing the tower by no more than fifty feet. He looked over. Anwar was still praying, unfazed by the near-miss.
Salaam looked back down. He had to plot this course quickly. Once they hit Fairfax County, he would turn the plane due east, passing near the suburban bedroom communities of Vienna, Falls Church, and finally Arlington. There he would fly low across the Potomac River near the Pentagon, and then turn and fly up the National Mall, where he would steer around the Washington Monument, and detonate the nuclear bomb just over the dome of the US Capitol.
He double-checked the flight plan. That should do it. The flight should last a little over fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes to eternal glory!
Now if he could just stay below ground radar and steer around radio towers and water towers, the mission was in Allah’s hands.
US Navy F/A-18 (“Hornet 1”)
Over St. Charles, Maryland
5:25 p.m.
Hornet 1, Andrews Control.” The call was from air traffic control at Andrews Air Force Base, just outside of Washington.
“Andrews. Hornet,” LCDR Billy Belk responded.
“Hornet, be advised we have a report of a small craft taking off out of Winchester, Virginia, suspected to be target. Go to two-five-hundred feet and divert toward Arlington. Execute loop pattern over Fairfax County until further orders. Your orders are to shoot down anything flying in the area that is not US military.”
“Andrews. Roger that. Go to two-five-hundred, divert to Arlington. Shoot down anything flying.” Belk pushed down on the stick; the Hornet dove at an angle. The altimeter responded.
Five thousand, forty-five hundred, four thousand, thirty-five hundred, three thousand…
The jet leveled at twenty-five hundred feet as it roared over the Potomac River, near Mount Vernon, the home of George Washington.
Belk looked down. The winding Potomac was glistening under the stars, as if peacefully oblivious to the war that was about to take place in the night sky above it.
Beechcraft Bonanza Aircraft
Above the Loudoun/Fairfax county line, Virginia
5:33 p.m.
Salaam looked down and saw the suburban streetlight sprawl that was Fairfax County. So far he had spent ten minutes in the air in an FAA-imposed no-fly zone. Still undetected.
They were now passing over the small town of Centerville, just inside the Fairfax County line. Salaam pulled back on the power and slowed the airspeed slightly, to one-nine-zero knots. Then he steered the yoke slightly to the left, bringing them on a due easterly course of zero-nine-zero degrees.
Just five more minutes to glory! Soon the lights of Washington would be in his view. Praise be to Allah!
US Navy F/A-18 (“Hornet 1”)
Over Fairfax County, Virginia
5:34 p.m.
The look-down, shoot-down radar was sweeping the airspace below the jet. Still nothing.
Commander Belk put the Super Hornet in a large, circular loop over central Fairfax County. He surveyed the horizon, searching desperately, as if he could visually pick out a dark plane somewhere, down there, against the sea of a million lights on the ground.
Still he had to try something. The sweat from his forehead had spread now to his whole body, drenching the inside of his dull green jumpsuit.
He had to find his prey fast and make the kill, or Washington was gone.
Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep!
Contact! The look-down, shoot-down radar had spotted an aircraft below!
“Andrews! Hornet! I’ve got contact! Preparing to fire!” Belk reached down to fire one of his Sidewinder missiles.
The screen went blank.
“Where’d he go?” Belk looked down. “Come on, baby!” Nothing.
“Andrews. Hornet. I’ve lost contact! Bogie last spotted headed zero-nine-zero degrees, due east toward Washington.”
“Hornet, keep looking!”
He had to think fast. He turned the jet directly toward the Potomac River and pushed on the thrusters. If he could circle over Washington, head back over Virginia, and somehow find him and cut him off before he reached the river, then maybe…just maybe…he could get off a shot before it was too late.
Beechcraft Bonanza Aircraft
Above Virginia
5:35 p.m.
Anwar had moved to the back of the plane, his hand already on the nuclear trigger, and ready to press it at Salaam’s command once they crossed the Potomac.
Down below, Salaam saw the cloverleaf intersection of Interstate 66 and Interstate 485 coming into view.
And then, in the distance, he saw it!
The Washington Monument, basked in spotlights, rising in the night above the American capital! This could not be happening. To have been so favored by Allah and to have been chosen for such a great mission.
Salaam’s heart was jack-hammering so fast that he could not control it. He turned the plane’s nose directly at the monument and increased his airspeed to two hundred knots.
US Navy F/A-18 (“Hornet 1”)
Over Washington, DC
5:36 p.m.
Commander Belk swung the jet in a loop over the National Mall and looked down at the Washington Monument, the US Capitol, and the White House. He pointed the plane to the Virginia side of the river, and within a matter of minutes had crossed the river again and was flying over Arlington Cemetery, still searching.
From there, he turned the plane to the northwest, flew toward Marymount University, where he looped over the Potomac again, and turned south headed back toward Arlington Cemetery.