“It’s good to see that you two are alright.” Captain Saune said relieved to see them in one piece. “The lower level is clear of resistance and so is the tunnel. The Marine Cobra took out almost all of Osama’s men and is hovering outside to provide support.”
“The upper level is clear, except for Osama. He's still somewhere in the facility. He must have hidden passageways in the building.” Turner said as the group made their way to the door of the control room. “We need to get to La Palma now, Captain. Maria and my father are in trouble. Can you take us there in the helicopter?” he asked as Samuel pounded on the door for Yashiro to let them in.
“No way, Josh. Osama’s henchmen made short work of the old Huey with a few rockets from their hand-held launchers. It’s completely scrapped,” he said as the Japanese scientist opened the door to the control room.
“Damn!” Turner yelled in frustration as they walked over to where Yashiro had been working to disable the Scalar weapon. “There’s got to be a way to get to them.”
“I’ve done all I can at this point,” said Yashiro, who had fashioned a bandage for his wounded arm out of his lab coat.
“I’ve succeeded in converting the weapon’s EM waves to an endothermic cold mode and have taken it as high as I dare go. Any higher and the field drains below won’t be able to handle the immense EM feedback. I’ve programmed the system to start a gradual reduction of the output levels until it shuts down. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, it should be completed in an hour or so,” he reported, pleased with the fact that he was finally able to contribute somehow.
“Nice work, Yashiro. It was a good thing we ran into you in the lava tube,” Turner said, his attention still focused on the plight of his father and Maria.
“Don’t worry about Osama, Josh,” Saune said, seeing the anguish in Turner’s eyes. “He’s not going anywhere and before long this place will be swarming with your Marines. We’ll flush him out soon enough.”
The VHF radio then crackled in their ears. “Captain, this is Sears. What is your situation? Over….”
“Colonel Sears, the facility is clear of active resistance and is secure. There is one combatant still hidden somewhere in the facility, but poses no threat at the moment. Over….” Saune reported.
Samuel whispered, “Don’t forget the three scientists I locked up in there,” he said, pointing to the chair still propped up against the supply room door.
“That’s good to hear, Captain.” Sears responded. “Major Zibrinski will be landing a squad of Marines within a few minutes. They are at your disposal.”
Pressing the transmit button, Turner cut in. “Colonel, this is Josh Turner. Could you have them land at the facility’s main gate area out front? We’ll meet them there. Over….”
“Affirmative, I will advise the Major to expect you. By the way, Mr. Turner, you and your associates did a nice job today. You have saved the lives of a lot of people with your efforts,” the Colonel said respectfully. “Sears, out….”
“I have an idea,” Turner said, his eyes brightening. “Let’s go, Samuel.”
“Uh-oh,” Samuel replied in usual fashion as they filed out of the control room’s doors and back down the corridor to the atrium. The team then exited the Bishamon facility, grateful to be leaving the place where so much death and destruction took place. Most importantly, they were grateful to still be alive.
The sun was descending over the Atlantic Ocean to the west as the CH-46 Sea Knight helicopter that was launched from the Hazleton loomed into view. Coming overhead, the big transport chopper descended gracefully. As it touched down on the rocky grounds of the main gate, it threw debris everywhere.
Turner and the other men waved in acknowledgment as the rear door to the aircraft opened. Fifteen fully-armed Marines hit the ground, quickly securing the perimeter and the now vacant guard shack.
A tough looking lieutenant made his way over to them, and Saune greeted the lieutenant with a handshake. The Marine lieutenant could see the weariness in Turner’s eyes along with the cuts and bruises adorning his face and head.
“Lieutenant, Captain Saune here can give you and your men a heads-up on what’s inside,” Turner yelled over the din of the Sea Knight’s twin rotor blades and roaring GE T58 turbo-shaft engines. “I need to speak to the pilot.”
“That will be Major Zibrinski, sir,” he yelled back.
Turner slapped him on the back, and then ran for the open rear door of the Sea Knight. He was still guarded by a Marine, who allowed him and Samuel access.
“We have visitors, Major,” the Marine medic standing at the rear of the CH-46 Sea Knight’s flight deck announced. He motioned to the two ragged looking men approaching from the rear of the craft.
“I’m expecting them, Lieutenant,” she replied, releasing her seat restraints and rising up from the pilot’s seat. She squeezed past the medic and entered the transport bay of the big chopper, greeting Turner with an extended hand. “Mr. Turner, I presume?” she asked as Turner shook her hand. “I’m Major Sidney Zibrinski. Colonel Sears told me to expect you.”
“Pleased to meet you, Major. This is Samuel Caberra,” he said, motioning to his Peruvian comrade who waved from the seat he had plopped into.
“If you don’t mind me saying, Mr. Turner, you look like hell. Would you like our medic to give you a go-over?” She asked, seeing the battle scars on Turner’s face from the last twenty-four hours of constant abuse.
“There’s no time for that, Major. I need a huge favor from you. Two of our people are trapped on the volcanic ridge on La Palma. One of them is my father and he's been shot. Can you help me?” he asked. He knew it was a long shot, but he had to try.
“Sorry, but no can do, Mr. Turner. I’ve got a group of Marines here that I’m responsible for,” she replied as the second CH-46 came into view from the cockpit window. It touched down ninety feet away from them.
The anxiety and turmoil that had accrued over the last day finally reached its zenith. Turner was weary, aching, and now distraught over his father and Maria. They held on precariously to life with only one chance for survival. Turner erupted in uncontrolled anger.
“Damn it, Major! We’ve been through hell the last twenty-four hours, putting our lives at risk in an effort to stop these madmen from washing out the entire east coast of the United States. Hell, we’re not even sure if we’ve stopped it in time. A lot of people are dead and more may die before this thing is over. My father is at risk of dying from a gunshot wound on that God-forsaken island just twenty minutes away, and you tell me, ‘no can do’?” He turned away and sat down next to Samuel, totally frustrated and feeling utterly helpless.
As tough as Sid Zibrinski was, she couldn’t help but feel empathy for this man and what he had been through. She liked his attitude and figured she would have probably reacted the same way, so she decided he was gutsy enough to go out on a limb for.
“Let me run it past Colonel Sears, Mr. Turner,” she conceded, climbing back into the pilot’s seat. She put on the ANR flight intercom set and contacted her superior on the Cobra. She related Turner’s request to the colonel, who still hovered over the west flank of the Bishamon facility. Turner looked on in hopeful anticipation. He saw Zibrinski nodding in affirmation a few times, followed by her saying, “Yes, sir, will do, stand-by.” She motioned for Turner to put on her flight intercom set and said, “The colonel wants to speak with you.”
Putting on the headset and adjusting the boom mic, the Major gave him the thumbs-up.
“Go ahead, Colonel Sears; this is Turner,” he said, preparing for the disappointing response and the argument that would ensue.