Peter laughed, “Yes, and to make matters worse they don’t wear armor, and are used to it. I don’t care how good of shape you are in, they can outrun you every time due to our equipment loads. Personally I would rather have the gear. Luckily, we have a pickup truck that was procured from a local farmer for a few thousand bucks, and can have you in the air in a matter of ten minutes.”
“Thanks. Hopefully this flight won’t come out from under me. Do you know if the bomber I was escorting made it through?” the pilot panted.
“Yes it did. All of its assigned targets were hit, and it is currently on its way back to, if not already on the ground, in Turkey along with your wingman,” said Peter.
The two officers along with the rest of the team jumped in either the seats or back of the truck. The ride to the helicopter took the predicted ten minutes. The Major did love these guys for their professionalism. They were free of enemy fire, but these men continue to watch diligently for tails or enemy of any kind. They were consummate professionals, one and all.
They boarded the helicopter, a massive Chinook. The twin rotors above the helicopter gave it an enormous amount of lift. The pilot wondered how this big thing made it in country without being attacked, or even detected. It didn’t matter, he was just glad to see it, and being a pilot he knew it was one of the fastest helicopter in the fleet. The faster he was out of this country the better, in his mind. Now, hopefully they would give him another fighter. He wanted back into the fight.
The team settled into the back and the aircraft lifted off.
The Warrant Officer reappeared once they were in the air, “Major, don’t be concerned about the flight, we currently control this airspace. They have almost no anti-air capability left, none of which is anywhere close to us. If you will put on these headphones there is someone who would like to talk to you.”
He put on the headphones, “This is Major John Murphy,” he spoke into the microphone.
“Major, welcome back. This is Major Frank Banner, I hope my former team is treating you well. I am going to drop off here, but I have your wife on the line who is going to be very happy to hear from you,” said Frank.
Major Murphy thought modern technology was fantastic.
Going through satellites, from a rescue helicopter, while over enemy territory, to his wife’s cellular phone, who was over 4000 miles away, he wasn’t sure how it worked, but he liked it all the same. This call was as much for his mental state as it was hers, He was happy and very grateful they had rigged it up. He would have to take back some of the things he had said about the Army over the years.
They got it right today.
AP NEWS FLASH: The identity of one of the downed pilots has been released, it is Major John Murphy, whose call sign is Tequila. A special operations team rescued him after his F-22 was downed. His first statements on the matter say that he went down after getting in close air to air combat with several enemy MIGs, and was unable to lose one of them off his tail. The pilot is in perfect health, and will return to duty immediately. He requested a new airplane, and the ability to get back in the fight. His wife has not returned attempts to contact her made by the AP Newswire.
AP ECONOMIC NEWS FLASH: Investors, seeking safe havens, have run from every sector of the economy except defense, medical, and railway. There is continued pressure from economists, and Wall Street investors to bring the war to a speedy close so that the rebuilding effort can become the primary focus of all Americans. Unfortunately this does not seem to be possible. The President’s spokesperson Scott Waits has said he hopes that the Iranians, and their allies, will be reasonable and discuss terms without further bloodshed. As the lack of various consumer goods becomes more prevalent, support for the United States to use nuclear weapons continues to grow with the reasoning for most Americans being they used them first, so there is justification. The President does not support their use at this time and believes that a conventional war is the only way in which this conflict should be fought unless another WMD based attack is imminent upon our population. He contends that no military can sustain losses at the rate Iran is experiencing them. He says that surrender will occur. The markets do not appear to share his opinion. The link between non-economic policies and the economy has never been more apparent.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Dr. Joba awoke to a knock on his cell door. That was different. No one had ever knocked before entering. Something on the outside must have changed. Perhaps America was learning it could not win this war.
As far as cells, or even prisons went, this one was not that bad. He was allowed time for prayer, they had shown him which direction was geographically east. He even went outside every day for relaxation and exercise.
When the door opened, in came his breakfast, and along with it, the man claiming to be named Phillip once again. So far Phillip had been the only man, besides guards, he had seen. Phillip was the only one who had attempted to speak with him. The guards merely used hand motions to communicate where he should go. Other than movement from place to place, they had no interest in him.
Given his understanding of how interrogations and imprisonments went this was not surprising. They would want to have a single person responsible for everything. It was meant to be a battle of wills, and it was one Dr. Joba felt confident he was winning.
Phillip set the breakfast down between them, and like most mornings, had brought his own along as well. Perhaps he felt the “sharing” of a meal would make him seem more like a friend than an enemy. Phillip was the enemy, the enemy of Allah. Shared meals would not change this fact.
Being the disciplined man that he was he had even managed to ignore the fact that Phillip ate sausage or bacon in front of him every single morning. The inquisitor obviously got some inward satisfaction from this, but what the man didn’t realize was that it made no difference what that man did. It was only Dr. Joba’s own behavior that mattered.
Phillip opened the morning’s conversation with his typical comments, which were obviously lies, about how badly the war was going for Iran, “Doctor I appreciate you spending more time with me this morning. I just want to inform you that we are managing to destroy the tanks your country, and several of your allied countries, have accumulated over the years rather rapidly. Your Air Force is virtually gone, and it is only a matter of time before we achieve total victory.”
He had grown used to this and even somewhat began enjoying their little jabs at each other in conversation, it was the only intellectual exercise he was getting. He liked using his mind, “Oh Phillip, I know you have the best war machines money can buy, however the spirit of our soldiers goes beyond your mechanical or industrial capabilities. I am sure you believe you are making headway. However your country, with all of the economic problems it had before I was placed here, which I am sure have been compounded, will not permit you to keep your fight going forever.”
“Well, maybe. But perhaps you should understand that we are close to winning, once your are down to just foot soldiers, should your countrymen continue to fight, it will be a one sided slaughter. Sending the world into chaos was your plan, and that plan is failing. So I ask again, why don’t you save us all a lot of hassle, and just tell me where your processing facility is?” he asked again.
“As I have told you before, even if I tell you, there is no chance you can get to it. None,” he responded.
“Ok. You are probably right. I didn’t think you would tell me, but I had to ask. It makes no difference. We will soon control the region. Once we defeat your military, our Intelligence organizations, and those of the world community, all of whom are rather annoyed at you right now, will find them, and we will destroy them.